Ryan
A college student. She’d been a fucking college student five years ago, and now she was a college grad. She was class, too, I could see that now. She was smart and responsible, like Amanda said. And she could afford to work for me for next to nothing, which meant she probably came from money.
In short, she was way, way above my league.
I hadn’t known that on that first night. That first night, she’d worn a sexy black dress on her curves, and she’d seemed sweet and maybe a little bit nervous. She was hot and she smelled good. I wanted to make her laugh, to make her feel less nervous, and then I wanted to get her naked and make her come. And I always got what I wanted.
She was that same woman now, but not exactly. She had grown her hair longer and put it in a soft ponytail with stray pieces curling against the side of her neck. She was more poised—the nervousness was completely gone—and she was harder to impress. She made working as a pet sitter look classy, like something everyone should aspire to. Like it was a perfectly natural career. I couldn’t pull off being a fucking baseball player, but she could pull off being a pet sitter like she was in a magazine.
But as far as hotness went, she was the same woman. Better. Because now I wanted to crack her dignified shell, strip her naked, make her beg, and then make her come. In that order.
There was a reason they called me the Bad Boy of Baseball.
As soon as the door closed behind her, I sent Dylan to do homework in his room where he couldn’t hear. Then I called Wes. My friend Wes, husband of Amanda, who had sent the Ghost of One-Night Stands to my doorstep to work as my nanny.
“Tell me you liked her,” Wes said when he answered. He was outdoors somewhere, with wind blowing into the speaker. “If you didn’t, you’re an idiot.”
“I want her to work for me, but she hasn’t decided,” I said. “What do I do?”
He whistled. “That’s a tough one. Kate is smart and independent. She makes her own decisions.”
I looked in the fridge, trying to think of something to have for dinner. As with every other day, I had no fucking idea. “She’s willing to work for peanuts, so it isn’t money she’s after.” Not that I had any. “How do I sweeten the deal?”
“You think I know the answer to that?”
“I need intel. Whatever you have.”
“Hmm.” He took his sweet time, which made me want to smack his teeth in. “Kate is brainy. Really brainy. But she’s been sort of directionless since college. Her parents are Amanda’s aunt and uncle. They have tons of money, and Kate is their only child. They’re disappointed in her.”
“Why? Because she didn’t make some big career yet?”
“It’s important to them. Amanda adores Kate, but to be honest she’s sort of the black sheep of the family right now.”
I smiled to myself. This, I could work with. “What else? Does she have a boyfriend?”
“There was a serious guy that her parents wanted her to marry, but she didn’t. Part of the reason why her parents are mad.”
Bingo. “And no boyfriends since?”
Wes paused. “Wait a second, Riggs. Why are you asking?”
I reached into the fridge and picked up a tomato. Could we have tomato sandwiches for dinner? Was that starving my kid or something? “Intel, I told you.”
“No way. I know you, Riggs. You’re a player.”
“Correction. I was a player. Now I’m a single dad, and I’m completely fucking celibate.” It wasn’t even a lie, which was something that made me want to jump off a cliff on a regular basis. “I’m just trying to figure out where Kate’s head is at. If there’s some guy who’s going to be pissed if she works for me.”
“If you’re celibate and your intentions are pure, then why would some guy be pissed that she’s working for you?”
I tossed the tomato in the air and caught it. Maybe I should try pitching a tomato and see if my arm improved. “Because I’m very, very fucking good-looking,” I told Wes. “I know you’re straight and all, but are you blind?”
Wes sighed. “I don’t even know why I’m friends with you.”
“I know,” I said. “I have everything I need, thanks.”
I hung up on him and dug some non-moldy bread out of the bread bin. Tomato sandwiches it was. I found some cheese in the fridge, and then, worried about nutrition, I grabbed the box of bran cereal. Tomato sandwiches and cereal. Ryan Riggs, world’s number one father.
Kate Washington was a straight arrow. A brainy college girl. Except I knew something no one else knew: she’d spent a night with me, the Bad Boy of Baseball, a man she’d just met. It had been very, very fucking hot. Like steam-the-windows hot. And she didn’t tell me about college or anything else, because that night she was rebelling.
She might be doing it in a quieter way five years later, but she was still rebelling. Making her parents mad.
I already had two things going for me: sex and rebellion. I was excellent at both.
I had my answer. Kate was going to be my nanny.
And I wasn’t going to have to do a damn thing.