“Well sister, you are also in luck. Go get washed up and lunch will be ready in a bit.”
“Okay.” She looked like she was going to head upstairs, but she looked dead at Rafe again. This kid was really letting him know who ran things around here. “Are you going to be our nanny this time? Our nanny quit and it was rude.”
“I think your mom and I are going to talk about it. Can we let you know when we know?”
“Okay. If you’re not going to stay, say goodbye first,” Avery said as she grabbed the edge of the counter and started jumping up and down. “Leaving without saying goodbye is rude.”
“You’re right. I will not leave without saying goodbye.”
“Okay.” Avery hopped up and down a few more times before taking off to join her sister.
Sloan rolled her eyes. “See, she came around.”
“She’s tough, but fair.”
“True,” Sloan said with that smile that Rafe was starting to love before a sober look came over her face. She leaned against the counter, arms across her ample chest. She was ready to talk business. “So, I don’t want to sound desperate, but please say yes. The girls love you and my Spidey senses are telling me that you’re obviously a good guy.”
“I wouldn’t say all that,” Rafe let slip.
“God, just tell me now if you’re secretly a huge asshole.”
“I—I think we have problem.”
Sloan’s expression dropped. “What is it?”
Rafe sucked in a deep breath and decided it was best to tell Sloan the truth. She was only growing on him and seeing her every day, even if only for a few hours, wasn’t going to make things any easier. “I’ve never worked for a single mother I was this attracted to before. I am very attracted to you.”
“Oh?” Sloan seemed genuinely confused, like he’d be a fool to think she could be anything close to sexy.
“Is that crazy?”
“Yes? I—no? I just—I didn’t expect you to say that. I—nevermind. Okay.” Sloan let out a long sigh, then put her hands on her hips as she examined those scratch-resistant faux wood tiles. He could see where Avery got the gesture from. “I guess it’s not impossible.”
“Are people not usually attracted to you?” Rafe asked. It was his turn to be confused. How was every man who encountered this woman not lining up just for a chance? What the fuck was her ex-husband’s problem?
“Not the people I want, but that’s not the issue. How big of a problem are we talking?”
“It’s not going to impair my judgement, but I’ve been trying not to look at you all day.”
“Oh.” Rafe watched her beautiful face as her full lips twisted up at the corner. “Okay. Well. Unless you think it’ll impact your ability to look after the girls… do you?”
“No,” Rafe said honestly. Yeah, he wanted Sloan. Bad. But that wasn’t enough to change who he was at his core. While he might be blunt and honest, he wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t a dick. This casual Saturday afternoon was a breeze, but Sloan needed someone she could trust to hold things down twenty-four seven.
From what she told him, she operated for hours upon hours, a few days a week. And even when patients’ lives weren’t in her literal hands, her job came with a lot of demands. She couldn’t settle for a nanny who would do anything less than help her children thrive. He knew he was the right person for the job. “It won’t be a problem.”
“Okay, good. Let’s see how the rest of the day goes, but I’d really like it if you could start tomorrow. I can handle your attraction to me, if you can.”
“Yeah, I guess. Sounds good.”
“Good.” Then Sloan changed the subject like he hadn’t just told her wanted to deep dick her into next week. “Can I put you on apple slices?”
“Absolutely. I’m good with a knife.”
“Knife block is right there and you can grab three apples out of the crisper. Or seven. I don’t know how much fiber it takes to keep this system running,” she said with a little laugh as she gestured up and down his tall frame. Rafe narrowed his eyes at her and walked past her to the fridge. He grabbed three apples, rinsed them, and then settled in next to Sloan at the island and started chopping.
3
Sloan deserved an award for her performance in “I Spent the Last Eight Hours Pretending Everything is Totally Cool.” Years of telling patients that they were in the safe, capable hands of a doctor who was barely old enough to drink had kicked her people-reading skills to an eleven. She knew when people were comfortable with her. She knew when people wanted to patronize the shit out of her, but had the decency to hold their rude comments back. She also recognized a good vibe when she saw one. She could tell that she would click with someone on more than one level.
