I come downstairs, pulling on a t-shirt, and blink the sleep from my eyes. Charlotte usually wakes me in the morning, but it’s after nine, and she never came in. It felt good to sleep late, but I wonder how long she’s been up. Soft voices carry from the kitchen. I walk around the corner and stop in my tracks.

Linnea is standing at the stove, her back to me. She’s wearing a tank top with thin straps and a pair of loose gray sweats. Nothing special, but for fuck’s sake, a paper bag would look hot on that body. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen such a perfect ass in my life.

Her hair is up and there is just so much skin showing right now. Her shoulders, arms, upper back. I’m still trying to wake up, but my dick is already way ahead of me.

“Hi, Daddy!” Charlotte says.

Oh my god, I didn’t even notice my daughter was in the kitchen. This is so bad.

“Morning, Bug.” I scoop her up and she gives me a big squeeze around my neck. I hold her for another moment and breathe in the strawberry scent of her hair. I love this little girl so much. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” she says. “Linnea is making pancakes.”

I set her back down. “Yum.”

Linnea looks at me over her shoulder. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah, definitely,” I say. “This is your home too, now. Help yourself to anything.”

She smiles. “Thanks. Do you want some?”

God, that smile. “Sure, sounds great.”

Charlotte and I carry plates and silverware to the table while Linnea finishes cooking. She brings over a plate with a tall stack of pancakes and we all sit down. I get up again to grab the butter and when I get back, Linnea is already helping Charlotte cut a pancake into bite sized pieces.

“Thanks,” I say.

“Sure,” she says with a smile.

She’s leaning forward to help Charlotte and my eyes are drawn to those amazing boobs. I used to think a word like luscious when applied to tits was stupid, but that was before I was faced with the amazingness that is Linnea. She sits up straighter and grabs the syrup. I tear my eyes away, hoping she didn’t catch me staring at her chest. Great, she hasn’t even been here twenty-four hours, and I’m almost sexually harassing her.

I distract myself with breakfast. Pancakes aren’t my first choice for a breakfast food—I’m more of an eggs and hash browns kind of guy—but these are really good. I can’t remember the last time someone else cooked me breakfast. There’s something comforting about sitting at the table, quietly eating pancakes that I didn’t have to make myself.

“I know I just got here, so there’s no hurry, but I wanted to talk to you about your work schedule,” Linnea says. “I’d like to teach piano lessons a couple times a week. But I’m here for Charlotte first, so if that doesn’t work, it’s okay.”

“I’m sure we can figure it out,” I say. “Worst case scenario, my sister Kendra can watch Charlotte if I absolutely have to go in and you aren’t here. Where will you teach? Here?”

“No, at a music store,” she says. “That’s what I was doing back home. Henley’s Music isn’t far from here, and they offer lessons. I’ll go talk to the manager this week and see if I can get one of the lesson rooms. Just let me know what days are best for you, and I can work around that.”

“Sure,” I say. “How will you get around? Do you drive?”

“I have a license, but I’ll use the bus,” she says. “I’m used to it and I already looked up the routes. There’s a stop just two blocks away, so I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” I guess she’s got things pretty well figured out already. “You know, I obviously don’t have a piano. Are you going to need somewhere to practice?”

“Oh, no, I have an electric piano that’s being delivered in a few days,” she says.

“Does that work as well as a regular piano for you?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she says. “I have a very nice one. The keys are weighted, so it feels right. It just takes up less space.”

“Can I play your piano?” Charlotte asks.

“Of course,” Linnea says. “I’ll teach you to play all kinds of fun things.”

“Are your parents shipping the piano?” I ask.

“Yeah.” She puts her fork down. “Speaking of my parents, I’m… well, I’m sorry if this was kind of sprung on you.”

I feel a little pang of guilt for how much I was complaining to Alex about her. “It’s fine. Honestly, I’ve had such a hard time finding someone to watch Charlotte. My schedule can be erratic, so they have to be willing to be here late into the night sometimes, and a lot of nannies only want to work days. We had one girl who we both liked, but she got engaged and moved out of state. The rest have been… well, let’s just say they didn’t work out.”

“You said Brittany was a twit,” Charlotte says.

I wince. “I was upset when I said that, Bug. That wasn’t a nice thing for me to say.”

Linnea stifles a soft laugh.

“My point is, you living here makes it a lot easier,” I say. “And you already knowing Charlotte is a big deal too.”

“I like Linnea,” Charlotte says.

“I like you too, Bug,” Linnea says.

Charlotte beams at her and my heart swells with affection for both of them.

“So, you teach piano,” I say. “Are you looking to do anything else in terms of a career in music?”

“Well, the plan is to land a spot with a symphony,” she says.

“Wow, that sounds like it would be amazing,” I say. “Would you be looking to do that here?”

“If it worked out,” she says. “But I don’t think there’s much chance of getting on with the Seattle Symphony. Their pianists are amazing, and I don’t think they’ll have any openings for a while.”

“Oh, so where would you go?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Depends. Most major cities have a symphony, but I’m more likely to get on with a smaller one until I have more experience. When an opening comes up, I’ll have to go audition.”

I’m hit with a surge of disappointment at the thought of her leaving. Which is crazy. She doesn’t want to be a nanny for the rest of her life. She’s a musician. Of course she’s going to pursue her career.

We finish up breakfast and I turn on the TV for Charlotte. Linnea and I both head upstairs to shower and get dressed. There’s an awkward moment when I come out of my bedroom to find her wrapped in nothing but a towel, going between the bathroom and her bedroom. Her long, wet hair hangs down her back and her skin has a hint of pink from the hot water. She gives me a shy smile and slips into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Downstairs, I play a few games of go-fish with Charlotte—she wins two to my one—until Linnea comes downstairs.

“Can Linnea take me to the park?” Charlotte asks.

“Well, honey, Linnea isn’t really watching you today, because I’m off work.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Linnea says. “Is the park close?”

“Yeah, it’s up the street,” I say. “But really, you don’t have to.”

“I can take her for a little while,” she says. “I bet you don’t get breaks very often on your days off.”

She’s right, I don’t. I never ask anyone to watch Charlotte on my days off. Mostly, I want to spend time with her. But I’ve also had to call in too many favors to make sure I have someone to take care of her while I’m working. It’s been months since I had even a few hours to myself when she wasn’t asleep.

“Actually, that’s true,” I say. “If you’re sure.”

“I’d be happy to,” she says. “You ready, Bug?”

“I need shoes, but I can tie them myself,” she says.

“Wow, you are a big girl,” Linnea says with a smile. She meets my eyes and winks.

For fuck’s sake, she’s killing me.

After I give Linnea directions, she and Charlotte head to the park. I watch them for a moment as they walk up the sidewalk, hand-in-hand. It’s amazing how animated Charlotte has been since Linnea arrived. It usually takes her a long time to warm up to people.

It’s such a relief. I’ve been getting increasingly worried about Charlotte’s shyness. Not because there’s anything inherently wrong with being shy or quiet, but she’s having such a tough time at school. She started first grade a few weeks ago, and it hasn’t gone smoothly. I want my little girl to be happy and thriving, and it’s hard to see her struggle.

I wander into the kitchen—Linnea already cleaned up breakfast—and glance around. I should probably unpack some more boxes, but instead, I sit down on the couch. I’m running on empty a lot, and having even an hour where no one needs me to do anything is nice.

A little while later, there’s a knock at the door. I wonder if I accidentally locked them out—I need to get an extra key for Linnea. I answer, but it’s my brother-in-law, Weston. He glances behind him, almost like he’s worried someone is watching, and comes inside.

“Hey, man.”

He nods to me and checks his phone, pocketing it again with a look that I can only describe as relief. We go into the living room and he takes a seat on the couch.

“You seem really tense,” I say. “Is everything okay?”

He blows out a breath and leans back. “Yeah. I just need to hide out from Kendra for a little bit.”

I laugh. “Why?”

“We’re trying to get pregnant,” he says. “And she’s treating me like her own personal sperm factory.”

I’m so surprised, I cough a few times before I can respond. “She’s… wow. Uh, okay. I didn’t realize you guys wanted kids right away.”

“Yeah,” he says with a shrug. “Kendra was basically made to be a mom; I knew she’d want a family. Plus, you have Charlotte and she’s pretty great.”

That makes me smile. Weston’s never struck me as a kid person, but he and Charlotte took to each other immediately. Now they have a really cute little bond.

“She is. But I don’t get why you’re hiding.”

“I’m fucking exhausted,” he says. “I can’t perform on command just because her temperature is right. It’s like she doesn’t care whether or not I’m in the mood, she just wants me to give it up whenever she snaps her fingers. At first I thought trying to make a baby would be great. Extra sex? Sign me up. But this is getting ridiculous. Does she want me to come home for lunch every day because she misses me? No, she just wants another sperm injection. Same with early mornings, after work, and don’t get me started on weekends. She got in the shower, so I made a break for it.”

I really don’t want to hear about my sister having sex with her husband, but this is kind of hilarious. “So, you’re telling me that you, Weston Reid, found a limit to how much sex you can have?”

“It’s not that.” He shoots me a glare and I think I touched a nerve. “I can as often as she wants. But would it kill her to put in a little effort for me? It’s so clinical. I’m not a piece of meat.”

I can’t help but laugh and he glares at me again. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m being serious,” he says.

“I know, I know.” I stop laughing, but there’s no way this isn’t funny. “Yeah, I bet that’s rough.”

“You have no idea,” he says. “When a woman gets it in her head that she wants to get knocked up, there’s no stopping her. I’m just a dick and a couple of testicles to her lately.”

It’s awful of me, but seeing Weston with bruised feelings is rather amusing. The guy used to be, in Kendra’s words, a total man-whore. I don’t think I want to know how many women he used for sex before he decided to settle down with my sister. It’s funny to see the tables turned on him a little bit.

His phone dings and he groans while he pulls it out. “Oh, great.”

“What?”

“Her cervical fluid is the right consistency,” he says.

I put a hand to my forehead. “I am so sorry I asked.”

He starts typing. “I’m telling her to come here.”

“Uh, you’re not getting your wife pregnant here,” I say.

He glares at me again. “No, I need to distract her for a little while. She hasn’t seen Bug recently anyway.” He looks around as if suddenly noticing the absence of Charlotte. “Where is she?”

“She’s at the park with Linnea, the new nanny. They’ll be home soon.”

Weston nods, then looks at his phone again. “Yeah, she’s coming by. Don’t tell her what I said, though.”

“Don’t worry, that’s not a conversation I want to repeat.”

The front door opens and Linnea and Charlotte come in. Charlotte sees Weston and her eyes light up.

“Uncle Weston!” She rushes over and jumps in his lap.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says.

Linnea comes into the living room. “Oh, hi.”

I introduce Linnea to Weston and she gives him a shy smile.

“I think my sister is coming over too,” I say. “Sorry to inundate you with people so soon.”

“That’s okay,” she says. “But it was hot outside. I’m going to run upstairs and change.”

“Sure, take your time.”

“I’m going to change too,” Charlotte says.

I’m about to tell her she doesn’t need to when I stop myself. There’s no reason to tell her not to change her clothes, and it’s cute to see her copying Linnea.

The girls head upstairs and Weston looks at me with raised eyebrows.

“What?” I ask.

“She’s your new nanny?”

“Yeah,” I say. “She’s Melanie’s sister, actually.”

“Wow,” Weston says. “Well, you’re fucked, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You know what I mean,” he says.

“No, it’s not like that,” I say. “She’s just here to help me with Charlotte.”

“Right,” Weston says. “Where’s she staying?”

I hesitate because I know exactly what he’s going to think. “Here.”

He laughs. “Yeah. Good luck with that.”

“I don’t need luck, because there’s nothing going on,” I say. “I’ve always had nannies for Charlotte. I don’t have issues keeping my dick to myself.”

He stands and pats me on the shoulder. “Of course not. And she’s just another nanny.”