Chapter 4 - Jonathan

Elizabeth stands on the front porch, vivid blue eyes wide. Her blonde hair falls in waves around her face, and I can’t help but notice how beautiful she is. Everything about her is soft and delicate, but there’s a hardness to her I immediately recognize. Blinking, I sweep my hand up and over my hair, pushing it out of my face.

I don’t know what I expected—Mrs. Doubtfire perhaps?—but I certainly didn’t expect a blonde bombshell. Though really, Declan got the final say in who Maggie interviewed after she narrowed it down to her top five choices. Still…this woman before me belongs on the pages of a magazine, not living in someone else’s house looking after strangers’ children.

She freezes, looking around as if she has no idea what the fuck is going on, and then recovers fast. She blinks, puts on a smile, and comes up the porch steps. Elizabeth is the definition of a hot nanny, even in that stupid fuzzy sweater. Perky round tits bounce underneath it as she walks, and it doesn’t look like she’s wearing a bra.

My dick jumps and I turn away. She’s been here all of a minute and I’m already reacting to her. Dammit. I don’t even want her here, let alone want to find her attractive. She’s here for Edward, and he’s all that matters.

He’ll always be all that matters.

I don’t move, and we stand there in a weird stare-off. My face is set, and my mind is made. Letting her into my house means I can’t do it all and that’s not something I’ve admitted to myself. When Rebecca left, I swore I didn’t need her. That I didn’t need anyone. Edward was more than enough, and I have to be enough for him.

Knowing I can’t stand here staring at Elizabeth forever, I take a step forward. She smells amazing, like fresh flowers and clean laundry and sunshine. Impossible, right? I fucking wish it were. She sweeps her eyes over me, inhaling quickly. Her lips part and we both reach for the same suitcase at the same time.

Her nails catch on my skin and she jerks back.

“Sorry.” She makes a move to grab my hand but stops, holding hers awkwardly out in front of her. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” I say gruffly, fully aware of how easily a woman like her could hurt me. She shuffles back, and I grab her two big suitcases with one hand, pinching my fingers between the handles, but wanting to get them inside so we can move off the porch. I’m suddenly sweating, and I’m blaming it on the hot sun.

Hah.

Once inside, she leans over to unzip her boots and I get a clear view of her tits behind that sweater. She’s definitely not wearing a bra. She’s well-endowed and I can’t help but imagine what those gorgeous tits would feel like in my hands.

Obviously, I’m still attracted to women. Very attracted. But being married due to a technicality complicates the shit out of things, and even more, pressing is not wanting to get Edward’s hopes up. He’s still too young to fully grasp what happened, but he knows his mother left him. I’m certain he doesn’t actually remember her, but he understands the idea of a mother and asks every now and then if either his mother is coming back or if I’ll get married again. I can usually sidestep those questions with an ‘I’m not sure’ or ‘Mothermy is busy,’ but what really gets me is when he asks why his mother doesn’t love him.

Because I don’t fucking know why.

That kid is my moon and stars. He’s my reason for getting out of bed every morning. He’s everything to me, and the only reason this Elizabeth woman is even here is to offer him a sense of stability that I can’t on my own.

Everything I do, I do for him.

“So, you talked to my sister yesterday,” I start, stepping into the living room.

Elizabeth’s eyes zero in on me, and she takes a few seconds to study my face. She makes no attempt to hide it either, and her brazen move to check me out throws me.

“Maggie is your sister?” she asks, tipping her head to the side a bit. Why does she sound surprised? “Yeah, she is.”

Elizabeth’s long eyelashes come together as she blinks. “Oh. I thought she was your wife. You, uh, have the same last name.”

I let out a strangled laugh. “No. She’s my baby sister, and she won’t be a Mount for much longer anyway.”

Elizabeth’s lips part but no words leave her mouth. Then she smiles again and looks me over once more. “I can see the similarities.”

I shrug. Morgan and I look alike, Phil and Declan are obviously identical, and Maggie holds a resemblance to us all. Only prettier. “I guess. This whole thing is her idea,” I add. I want to keep pretending I can do it all, play the role of a perfect father and devoted police officer to our town, but dammit, I can’t. Sticking to a schedule will do Edward a world of good, especially now that he’s in school.

“Oh.” Elizabeth brings her arms in, looking a little unsure of herself. The gesture throws me, and it takes me a few seconds to realize why. Her body language says she’s shy and uncomfortable— expected in this situation, of course. But her face is set with determination and she has a distant look in her eyes that reminds me of a huntress on the prowl.

I hate that I find it so fucking attractive.

“Edward is watching cartoons in his room. He’s excited to meet you.” I give her another few seconds to look around. The house is historical and has been fully restored and professionally decorated. Buying and fixing up this place was a dream Rebecca and I shared back when we first started dating, and we saved for years to have enough to do things right.

“Your house is beautiful,” she says, but almost sounds disappointed.

“It’s haunted,” Edward quips, appearing at the top of the stairs. “The Tall Man comes into my room at night.”

“Edward,” I scold, hoping Elizabeth doesn’t go running out the door. Though on second thought… nope. This is for Edward. I can grin and bear anything for that boy. “We talked about this. Ghosts aren’t real.”

Edward comes down the stairs. “Are you my nanny?”

“I am. My name is Elizabeth.”

“I’m Edward. I’m four years old. Did you know that babies grow inside their mother's tummies before they pop out of their belly button?”

Elizabeth smiles. “I didn’t, but I do now.”

And for some reason, having Elizabeth be as pretty as she is makes me even angrier. I don’t want a nanny. And even more so, I don’t want to need a nanny.

I give Elizabeth a hurried tour of the house, ending with the small guest room upstairs. It has a tiny bathroom attached to it, and the entire room is rather plain in comparison to the rest of the house. The door to this room hasn’t been opened in months prior to today.

She’s sitting on the bed when we return and gets up to take the suitcases into her room. Her hand brushes across mine as she grabs the handle from me, and I’m taken aback by how soft her skin is. Has it been that long since I’ve felt the touch of a woman?

“I’ll, uh, give you some time to get settled. Edward,” I call, not wanting to leave him alone with this woman. Not yet. “Help me make dinner.”

“I’ll do it,” Elizabeth offers.

“It’s fine. We got it tonight.”

Hopefully, Elizabeth can cook.

My mind wanders back to her pert breasts under that sweater, and as if she can read my mind, the floor creaks under her feet.

“Hey,” she says almost shyly, and this time her timidness seems genuine. She changed into black leggings and a gray T-shirt, and her long blonde hair is twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck. “Would you like any help?”

“No, thanks.”

Edward’s in the living room too distracted with his toys to notice that she came down into the kitchen. Elizabeth sits at the kitchen table, body angled out toward mine.

“So, Jon,” she begins. “Maggie told me about Edward but didn’t say me about you.”

“I’m not that interesting,” I reply dryly.

“What do you do?”

I add the pasta to the water and turn to steal another glance at her pretty face. “I’m running for sheriff of our county, but who knows how that’ll turn out. For now, at least, I’m a cop.”

I see her face change to a shocking display. But WHY? She isn't a criminal, IS SHE?"