Sloan tried to get comfortable in the McDonald’s booth, but it wasn’t working. The last few days had been stressful as fuck and her nerves were fried. Drew had taken the news about Tess surprisingly well. Sloan was shocked that he didn’t attribute her shady exit to something Sloan had done, but he did manage to slide in a few predictable jabs about how none of this would have happened if she’d stayed in Seattle.

That was her cue to end their call. She told him she’d be in touch when she found someone new, then “accidentally” hung up on him. As she tried to force herself to get some sleep, she reconsidered Xeni’s offer. Maybe she could put a hex on Drew. She woke up the next morning with both girls in her bed. They got clingy when they were stressed out. She wanted to strangle Tess anew, but she had to move on.

She sat close to the entrance with an eye on the twisting tubes and ladders of the Play Place. She glanced at Avery talking with their sitter, Stacia, before looking back at the door. They were early. She still lived by her father’s mantra: five minutes early was late. She didn’t know how true that was until she had kids. She’d given herself plenty of time to get the girls ready and out the door so they would be on time to meet with Rafe Whitcomb.

Sloan had never considered hiring a male nanny, but when her friend and Xeni’s fellow teacher Sarah insisted he was perfect for the job and available, she knew she’d be a fool not to check him out. Especially when all the other avenues she’d tried had come up empty.

Her colleagues at the medical center had a few recommendations for babysitters and she’d signed up for a childcare service, but their extensive vetting process left her in a bind for the coming weeks. She needed someone now. He’d called while she was busy with a consult, but when she found a few minutes to call him back, they’d had a pretty good talk.

He was thirty-four and had just finished working with a family who had decided to move overseas. He’d recently updated his first-aid and CPR certifications. Sloan was impressed by the thorough questions he had for her, beyond the girls’ ages and food allergies. He wanted to know upfront exactly what she expected from him, her parenting style, and her day-to-day vision for how he not only fit into the girls’ lives, but hers as well.

She ignored the weird tingle that line of questioning shot up her spine, just like she ignored the sexiness of his deep voice, with its hint of a Boston accent. The focus was finding a nanny for her kids, not a phone sex buddy for herself.

She also appreciated that he didn’t flinch when she asked about his political leanings. No politics, no religion, no money mentions were a thing of the past. Rafe might be qualified, but she was trying to raise two young, biracial Black girls and she’d be damned if she let someone who was a fan of walls and assault rifles and playing fast and loose with general human rights spend that kind of time around them.

He explained then that at fifteen he’d been picked up on an auto theft charge and spent six months in juvenile detention camp. Prison and police reform were things he held close to his heart. Sloan hadn’t expected him to come with a criminal past, but he was upfront about it, explaining that it didn’t appear on his background check since he’d been a minor. It was his one and only offense, and from the details he gave her, it sounded more like an instance of a young kid trying to fit in in a new city than the backstory of a violent criminal mastermind.

By the end of their conversation, she was satisfied that Rafe seemed competent and capable. And honest. She was further impressed when Haylene Craig called her not an hour later to give Rafe a glowing recommendation. He’d watched her children before he’d been employed by the Bakers, who also emailed that evening to say that having Rafe with their family had been a wonderful experience and that they missed him terribly.

After she put the girls to bed, she called Rafe again and asked if he’d be interested in meeting them on Saturday morning to see if they all meshed well. They agreed on the McDonald’s near her house and that if they could execute phase one of the in-person interview without incident, they’d move on to phase two.

Sloan had tried to stalk him on social media, but she couldn’t find much. Mostly pictures of motorcycles and baked goods that he’d prepared. She was able to find a few candid pictures confirming that he was a white guy with red hair, but he clearly wasn’t the type to upload a bunch of selfies.

Sloan checked her phone one more time, absently registering the sound of a motorcycle that had just pulled in the parking lot. Technically they weren’t supposed to meet for another five minutes, but she was ready to get on with it. Movement at the top of the jungle gym tube caught her eye. Sure enough, Addison had managed to scale the outside. Just as she was about to hop up, Stacia was on it. Addison made a face as she shimmied backwards and back into a large hole in the green plastic.

“Dr. Copeland?”

Sloan almost dislocated her neck as she whipped her head around at the sound of a newly familiar voice. If pictures were worth a thousand words, the few pictures she’d seen of Rafe Whitcomb had left out some pretty important details. They didn’t tell her that he was easily six foot five or that he was covered in tattoos from wrist to neck. They did clue her in to the motorcycle thing. She might have been staring up at his bright blue eyes, but that didn’t stop her from catching a glimpse of the motorcycle helmet hanging from his long, thick fingers. Those lying ass pictures left out the part where he’d grown a perfectly thick, gloriously manicured beard.

“Yes, right. Hi!” Like a dumbass, Sloan stood too fast and realized a bit too late that she was trapped by the low table. Luckily Rafe didn’t laugh at her as she squirmed out of the booth. She swallowed and smoothed down the front of her outfit before holding out her hand. “Rafe. Hi. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” His fingers gripped hers in a firm, but brief handshake.

“The girls are just playing. I thought we could talk for a few minutes and then you can meet them.”

“That sounds good.” God, his voice was sex on a biscuit. “Let’s sit,” he said, motioning back to the booth.

“Where are you from again?”

“Woburn, Mass. Near Boston.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m from Rhode Island. Providence.” Sloan needed to chill. Her voice was doing that high floating thing it did when she was nervous. She hadn’t made those wheezing, squeaky sounds since she met Drew. She was going to ignore that inconvenient fact and get right on with her day. “Your accent is making me homesick.” Sloan watched Rafe as he supressed a smile. Sloan tried not to read too much into that.

“I tried to get rid of it, but I’ve been spending time with my dad. When I’m around him, it comes back.”

And there it was. An awkward silence. Then Sloan knew, there was no mistaking it. He’d realized she was checking him out.

“So,” Rafe said.

“So, right. How are you feeling about this? I know it’s extremely short notice. Ideally—well, not ideally—but, I’d like you to start tomorrow if we feel like things will work out. Sunday would technically be your day off, but you can get moved in and the girls can at least have a sense of you being in the house before you’re on your own on Monday.”

“Why don’t I meet Avery and Addison? Let them be the judge.” His tone was even, but Sloan could hear what he was trying not to say. Slow the fuck down, lady. I haven’t agreed to this yet. Sloan felt herself slipping further into the jackass hole. That was the point of them meeting today—to see if they even fit, not for her to make heart eyes at him in a semi-crowded fast food restaurant. The part of her brain that was actually inhabited by a smart, professional, self-possessed woman got her ass in gear and gestured toward the indoor playground.

“After you,” he said. Sloan nodded with a tight smile, then led the way. She took a deep breath as she went. She used the fact that he wasn’t checking her out to recalibrate her line of thinking. Rafe Whitcomb was drop dead gorgeous and that didn’t matter one bit. She entered the play area and narrowly missed stepping on a feral toddler as it ran by.

“Hey, love bugs. Can you please come here? I have someone for you to meet.”

“Is it Rafe?” Avery yelled as she emerged from the base of the slide. She took one look at him and froze.

“This is our neighbor, Stacia.”

“Hi.” The nineteen-year-old’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as she offered a shy, little wave. Same, kid. Same, Sloan thought. Only Addison seemed to be completely unbothered by Rafe’s hulking presence. She hopped off the jungle gym, walked right up to him and tapped his helmet.

“Do you have a motorcycle?”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Rafe,” he said in response. Meanwhile, Avery was inching closer, her mouth still hanging open.

“I’m Addison and that’s Avery. We don’t model.”

Rafe glanced at Avery, then back at her sister. “Good to know. Nice to meet you, Avery.” He got nothing in response. She was still in shock, and Sloan didn’t push her. The girls sometimes took turns being the bashful one. Avery would come around, especially when she felt that Addison had tested the waters enough for them both.

“Can I hold your helmet? Please?” Addison asked.

“Yes, you may. And I appreciate the please. Thank you,” he said. “Here you go. Use both hands, it’s heavy.” Addison held up her open palms and let Rafe place the black helmet in her grasp. Sloan knew her child so well, she knew exactly what she was going to do as soon as her little nose scrunched up, but by the time she said, “Don’t sniff it!” it was too late. Addison had already pressed the seam where the interior lining met the hard outer shell right into her nose.

“It smells like sunscreen. Can I wear it?”

“Maybe later.”

“Okay,” Addison replied, She handed his helmet back, dreams crushed.

“Thanks.” Rafe looked over at Avery. “Do you want a go?” Avery stepped behind Stacia and shook her head. “Well, you let me know if you change your mind.”

“So I thought Rafe could hang out with us. We’ll go to Jo-Ann like I promised, and then we can go home and you can do some arts and crafts with Rafe while I get lunch ready.”

“Can we go in the pool, too? I’m so hot,” Addison whined.

“I don’t know, baby. I forgot to tell Rafe we have a pool. I don’t think he brought his swim trunks with him today.”

“I did,” Rafe piped in. “Got a whole just-in-case kit in my bag.”

“Alright, then. Yes, we can go in the pool. Let’s go,” Sloan said cheerfully.

“Ladies first.”

“Thank you.” Sloan ushered Addison toward the door, with Avery still clinging to Stacia. As soon as they stepped outside, she spotted a shiny, like-new, black and gold sportbike gleaming in the late morning sun. After they got the girls settled in their car seats in the back of the Mercedes, Sloan turned around and nearly orgasmed at the sight of Rafe astride his Ducati. Lord, his legs were long and his thighs were thick. And he was completely off limits.

“There’s a Jo-Ann’s—”

“On La Cienega and Pico?”

“That’s the one.”

“I’ll see you there. Any tricks with Avery I should know about?”

“Nah, she’s just being bashful. She’s the powder keg. Just give her a few hours. She’ll be asking you to play the most cutthroat game of Marco Polo.”

Rafe nodded, his face otherwise expressionless. He lifted his helmet, a clear cue that this portion of the conversation was over and maybe Sloan should stop staring at him. Right. She climbed in the car and turned to Stacia.

“Do you mind hanging around for a few more hours? I think Avery is scared of him.”

“I’m not scared. I’m practicing stranger awareness,” Avery declared from the backseat.

Stacia smiled. “Yeah, of course.”

“Great. Ready, girls?”

“I am!” Addison yelled, before she started chanting “I love crafts! I love crafts!”

“Rafe is coming with us?” Avery asked.

Sloan looked at her daughter in the rearview mirror. “Yes, he is. Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah, I guess.” After a beat, she went on. “He’s taller than Daddy.”

“You’re right, he is,” Sloan said, choosing to ignore the loud snort Stacia failed to keep to herself.

Rafe was fucked. He knew there was a chance that Sloan Copeland would be even hotter in person. He knew from talking to her on the phone that her sweet voice might be even more intoxicating. He was dead fucking wrong. Dr. Sloan Copeland was a fucking smoke show, a twelve out of ten stunner. He couldn’t imagine what patients thought the first time they saw her approaching their hospital bed. Part of him prayed like hell that he would hate her children. Not the case.

Addison was hilarious and really in your face, but she understood her pleases and thank yous. Avery couldn’t take her eyes off of him, and even as they made their way around the craft store she refused to speak to him, choosing instead to whisper her responses to Stacia. He intimidated other adults, so he wasn’t shocked that a six-year-old was a little wary of this man popping up in her life. No, the kids weren’t a problem at all. And Dr. Sloan Fucking Copeland was a goddamn delight. Sweet, charming, considerate, and patient as hell. Addison lost her cool twice picking out crafts and toys, and Sloan calmly got her back in check with kindness and respect.

As he climbed back on his bike and followed them to the house, he didn’t even think about the way she treated him. The second he set foot in that damn McDonald’s and saw the way Sloan was looking back at him, Rafe knew he needed to shut all emotion down. If he didn’t, he knew he’d be asking her out instead of agreeing to take care of her children. Icy demeanor firmly in place, he turned his full focus to Avery and Addison, avoiding the way Sloan’s ass looked in her floral romper.

Around the seventh time that Addison asked him if she could use his shoulders as a diving board, he knew he was going to say yes to the job. He hadn’t told Sloan that he was only available to the end of the year. He’d wanted to wait and meet her first and feel out the whole situation. He was on board, but now he needed to come up with a way to watch Sloan’s children while avoiding Sloan completely. He scooped Addison up one more time and gently tossed her over his shoulders into the deep end of the pool. A few feet away, Avery was showing Sloan how long she could hold her breath underwater.

Rafe looked over as Avery’s head popped above the surface, her dark curls plastered to her forehead.

“Very good, baby!” Sloan cheered from her submerged perch on the pool steps. Her tits looked amazing in the simple orange one-piece she was wearing. “I counted to ten that time.”

“I can get to twenty,” Avery insisted as she doggy paddled over to the edge. “I want some water.”

Rafe realized then that he was pretty thirsty himself. “Hey Avery, can you show me where I can get some water too?”

“I think it would be very nice of you to show Rafe where we keep the cups,” Sloan said.

Avery considered her options for a moment. Then she climbed up the inset ladder, out of the pool, turning toward Rafe with her hands on her hips. “You have to follow me, but you have to dry off first. We can’t track water inside.”

“Deal.”

Rafe swam to the edge of the pool, away from the steps where Sloan was sitting, and hoisted himself out. He grabbed his towel off the deck chair, then followed Avery inside after they were both done drying off. She marched into the brand new white on white on slate grey kitchen that was attached to an even larger open concept living and dining area. She went straight for the massive pantry.

“We keep the stool in here. It’s not a toy,” she said in a stern tone. She opened the door and pulled out a wooden step, dragging it over to the faux wood, clearly scratch-resistant tile. Rafe watched as she carefully made her way up each step until she could kneel on the counter. “Mommy said feet belong on the floor and we can’t walk up here.”

“Got it. I won’t walk on the counters.” Avery seemed like she had things under control, but he moved a little closer just in case. She grabbed two plastic cups from the cabinet, gently set them down on the counter, then carefully climbed back down.

“You want me to fill these up while you put your step stool away?” he asked.

“Yes. Thank you very much.” Rafe kept his smile to himself as they stood in the middle of the kitchen and enjoyed their ice cold water. When Avery finished, she put her cup on the counter and looked Rafe dead in the eye.

“I can use that again with my lunch.”

“Very resourceful of you.”

“You’re really big.” She cocked her head to the side, trying to make sense of him.

“I am.”

“Like, you’re as tall as the house.”

“I’m not sure that’s right, but I am pretty tall. My dad’s tall too and so was my mom.”

“My mom’s short.”

“She’s short-ish. She’s about average height. Do you know what average means?”

“No. I have to pee.”

“My bad. Please.” Rafe moved out of the way. Avery walked backwards down the hall, keeping a firm eye on him until she disappeared around the corner. He had to appreciate her vigilance. No one was going to get the jump on Avery Copeland.

Rafe refilled his water glass. He needed a few more minutes before he laid eyes on Sloan again. He got about thirty seconds. Sloan came walking into the kitchen, Addison wrapped in a towel by her side. “I think we’re ready for some lunch. What about you two—oh. We’re down one.”

“Water break turned into a bathroom break.”

“Ah, okay,” Sloan said as she absently stroked the back of Addison’s head. “Are you hungry?” she asked Rafe.

“I could definitely eat.” Your pussy. Right now. Splayed out on this kitchen counter.

“Great. Miss Addison, you know the post-pool drill.”

Addison nodded. “Rinse off, lotion up.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Addison turned on her heels and ran for the stairs.

“How many peanut butter and jam sandwiches does it take to satisfy a man your size?” Sloan asked with a teasing smile. She wasn’t flirting. It was an honest question. Instead of giving her an honest answer, he wanted to tell her what a man his size can do for her.

“Wonderbread sandwiches, five. If you have some thick artisanal slices from your local Whole Foods Market, I should be okay with two.”

“Good lord, you’re going to eat me right into the poor house.” Sloan laughed and turned toward the fridge. “You’re in luck. We have both. You have a preference?”

“Nah. Surprise me. Dealer's choice.”

“Mom?” Rafe turned at the whine in Avery’s voice.

“Yes, baby?”

“I’m hungry. So, so hungry. I’m sooooo hungry. Help.”

“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.