Is there such a thing as an insta-crush? A moment when you see someone for the first time—or maybe the first time in a while—and you’re instantly so attracted to them, your tummy is filled with butterflies and you imagine little hearts and stars sparkling around their head? Because that just happened to me.

Caleb smiles at me when he gets in the driver’s seat of his car and it sets those butterflies to fluttering all over again. How did I not remember how gorgeous he is? Maybe I didn’t notice before. The last time I saw him, we were all still in shock over my sister’s death. And before that, he seemed so much older than me, the way Melanie always did. I hardly paid attention to her husband. Back then, I would have been too scared to talk to him anyway, especially if I thought he was cute.

But now I’m sitting in a car with a man who has deep brown eyes, tousled dark hair, and a stubbly jaw that is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen in person. And I’m moving in with him.

Of course, it’s to be his daughter’s nanny. But still.

I take a deep breath and adjust the handbag I’m carrying in my lap. It was a long flight from Michigan, but my tiredness was driven away by the jolt of adrenaline that hit me when I saw Caleb. I didn’t see him at first. I noticed Charlotte when I got off the escalator, and she came running toward me. It wasn’t until I looked up that I saw him standing there. And I’ve been a jittery bundle of nerves ever since.

I was furious with my mother when she told me she’d talked to Caleb about sending me to Seattle to be Charlotte’s nanny. It’s not that I mind the idea of being a nanny to my niece—I’m thrilled about that part, actually. Charlotte is the sweetest little thing, and it’s been sad to only see her on Skype calls. I love that I’ll be able to spend so much time with her—really get to know her.

But my parents didn’t ask me if I was interested. They didn’t even tell me until after they’d already brought it up with Caleb and bought the plane ticket. My mother walked into my room, told me to pack my things, and said I had a flight to Seattle in two days.

Typical.

I did not want to move back in with my parents after graduation, but I didn’t have much choice. I worked hard for my music degree, but being a classical pianist isn’t exactly the fast track to self-sufficiency. I’ve been teaching piano lessons since high school, and that’s a good supplement. But if I want to make a living playing piano, I’m going to need to land a spot with a large symphony.

Which is the plan. I was living with my parents so I had time to practice for auditions. That shouldn’t be a problem now. Charlotte is in school, so I’ll still have practice time during the day. And I’m going to need it. Pianist positions are few and far between, and there’s always a lot of competition.

The hard part is, as much as I love music—it’s my life—performing is difficult for me. I love music for its own sake, and I love to play. But I get so anxious when the pressure is on. I’m terrified before a performance, and I’m left exhausted when it’s over.

But, as my parents are fond of reminding me, if I’m going to pursue music, I have to give it my all. Go as far as I can. Be the best I can be. They expect me to take advantage of my natural talent with a lot of hard work.

It’s a lesson they emphasized with both their daughters. My parents are doctors—my father is a neurosurgeon and my mother works in cancer research—both at the top of their field. Melanie was on her way to becoming some kind of superstar surgeon. So naturally, they want me to be the best in my chosen profession.

However, they were laying the pressure on thick, and I was getting frustrated. My mother was increasingly impatient with the lack of audition opportunities—as if somehow I could control when a major symphony had an opening.

That was why I agreed to come to Seattle. I was angry that my parents didn’t consult me before making arrangements with Caleb. But once I thought about it, I realized it was perfect. A new city. A job waiting for me. A place to live. A chance to start fresh, without my mother breathing down my neck and pestering me about auditions.

Of course, I hadn’t counted on developing an insta-crush on Caleb.

I take a deep breath. I’m sure this feeling will pass. I’ll get used to looking at him—I peek at him from the corner of my eye and oh my god, he is so dreamy—and I won’t feel so jumpy anymore.

“Linnea, do you want to sleep in my room with me?” Charlotte asks from the backseat.

Caleb laughs and looks at her in the rear-view mirror. “Bug, we talked about that. Linnea needs her own bed.” He coughs. “I mean, her own room.”

“Okay,” Charlotte says, sounding disappointed.

I twist around in my seat. “Hey, maybe we can have a slumber party sometime. Like on a night when your dad is at work late. Would you like that?”

She nods. “Can it be a pajama party?”

“You bet,” I say.

“What kind of pajamas do you have?” she asks. “Most of mine are pink.”

“Hmm, I don’t usually wear pajamas, so I guess I’ll have to get some before our party.”

“Then what do you sleep in?” she asks.

“Just something comfortable. Like a tank top.”

“And panties?” Charlotte asks. “What kind of panties do you have? Mine are My Little Pony and Strawberry Shortcake.”

My face warms and I know I’m blushing. I try not to look at Caleb, but I peek anyway. He’s looking straight ahead, both hands on the steering wheel. “I’m afraid I don’t have any that are as fun as that.”

“Yeah,” she says. “I don’t know if they make them in grown up sizes.”

“Probably not.” I turn back around, hoping she’s done talking about my panties. Maybe I should change the subject. “So, Charlotte, have you ever played piano?”

“No.”

“If you want, I can teach you,” I say.

“I don’t know if I’m big enough,” she says.

“Sure you are,” I say, glancing back at her again. “I started playing when I was younger than you.”

Her forehead tightens, her little eyebrows drawing together. “No. I don’t want to.”

“Oh, okay. That’s fine.”

“Why not, Bug?” Caleb asks, his voice gentle.

“Because of concerts,” she says.

“Concerts?” Caleb asks.

“Sometimes we do music at school, and the teacher showed us a video,” she says. “It was a concert and all the music players had to play music in a big room with a lot of people.”

“Oh.” Caleb turns to me and lowers his voice. “She thinks if she plays piano she’ll have to perform in front of an audience. She’s not acting like it right now, but most of the time, she’s incredibly shy.”

My heart melts in my chest. I was painfully shy as a child; I know exactly how she feels. “Aw, Bug. If you want, you can learn to play piano just for yourself. You don’t ever have to play in front of people. Maybe just me or your daddy. But no concerts, unless you want to.”

“Oh,” she says, her voice brightening. “Okay.”

Caleb smiles at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I smile back, but it feels like my heart just grew wings and it’s trying to fly right out of my chest.

Half an hour later, we pull up to a cute little two-story on a quiet street. Caleb helps me get my bags and the three of us go inside.

“Sorry for the mess,” Caleb says. “We moved in a month ago, but I haven’t really finished unpacking. We were in an apartment before, so I don’t even have furniture for all the rooms.”

The floorplan is open, with a cozy living area, kitchen, and dining room. There’s a formal living room with a fireplace near the front of the house, and stairs leading up. A few boxes are stacked in corners, and some of Charlotte’s toys are strewn about. But it doesn’t seem that messy to me.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “I can help organize if you need me to.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to clean up after me,” he says. “I just work a lot, so it takes me a while to get everything done at home.”

“Well, yeah, you’re doing everything by yourself,” I say.

“Yeah,” he says, and I’m struck by the tiredness in his eyes. “Let’s get your stuff to your room so you can get settled.”

We haul my things upstairs and he shows me around. Charlotte’s room, bathroom, my bedroom. He points to a half-open door and mumbles something about that being his bedroom. I’m dying to peek, but of course I don’t.

“I hope you’ll be comfortable in here,” Caleb says, gesturing to my new bedroom.

It’s plain, but perfectly functional. There’s a queen-sized bed flanked by two small nightstands, a dresser, and a closet.

He rolls my suitcase in and puts it near the closet. “You’ll have to share a bathroom with Charlotte. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course,” I say. “This is great.”

“You sure?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say, looking around the room. “This is perfect.”

Charlotte tugs on my hand. “Can we have our pajama party tonight, Linnea?”

“Not tonight, sweetie,” Caleb says. “It’s past your bedtime.”

“Please, Daddy,” she says. “We won’t stay up very late. Just a tiny bit.”

He picks her up and kisses her cheek. “Sorry, Bug. It’s already late.”

“Okay, Daddy,” she says. “Can Linnea put me to bed, then?”

Caleb laughs. “Not tonight, Bug. Remember, she lives with us now, and she’s going to be taking care of you when I have to work.” He glances at me. “And hopefully she’ll stay for quite a while. She’ll have plenty of chances to put you to bed.”

I smile at them. “Exactly. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

She nods and leans her head against Caleb’s shoulder. He rubs her back and with a little smile at me, he takes her to get ready for bed. I shut the door behind him and lean against it, letting out a long sigh.

Well, that was not what I was expecting when I got on a plane today.

I need to get my little insta-crush under control. Caleb is almost ten years older than me. I’m here to be his daughter’s nanny. And let’s not forget, he was married to my dead sister. The thoughts I’m having about him right now are so inappropriate.

But I’m sure it won’t last. I just need to keep my silly hormones from taking over.