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  Jenna hovered where she was, hidden behind the bathroom door. Should she intrude?

  “Nor do they occur over the course of a few days,” his father added. “Which means you’ve known about this at least as long as we were in Scotland. And you waited until now to tell us?”

  Sucking in a deep breath—if only she could have eaten before having this conversation—Jenna stepped out from behind the bathroom door. “Hi there,” she said, plastering a fake smile on her face and waving with pretend cheer. Her daughter, she noted, was in her plastic bassinet, asleep.

  Dustin, Sheryl, and Chad Wessex all shifted their focus to Jenna. Chad immediately strode across the room to her side, placing his hand on the small of her back and trying to guide her to the bed.

  “I’m fine,” she said, pushing his hand away. “I need to talk to them.”

  “No, I’ll handle this.”

  “Why? It isn’t your fault.” She lifted her gaze to his parents. “He didn’t know. I didn’t tell him.”

  His father’s brow furrowed, while his mother’s lips pursed and she crossed her arms, diamonds and gold flashing on her fingers.

  “I didn’t find out until after he left, and then I was scared. And I didn’t know what to do. I knew he’d come back if I told him, but I didn’t want him to leave his grandfather. I didn’t want to force him to make that choice. I still don’t know if I did the right thing.” She glanced at her own mother, who stood near the window next to her father. “But all we can do now is move forward. Together.”

  The look on his mother’s face softened, and her gaze darted to Charlie.

  “Would you like to hold her?” Jenna asked, nodding toward the baby.

  Sheryl gave her husband a swift look and then nodded, so Jenna walked over and scooped Charlie into her arms. The baby startled, her entire body going rigid for a moment, and then she relaxed, nuzzling Jenna’s chest before falling back asleep. Chad cupped his daughter’s head and waved his mother over.

  His mother stared down at the tiny human who, in truth, looked more like her namesake than an hours-old baby. Earlier, Jenna’s dad had declared all babies looked like wrinkled old men for the first day or so, so she shouldn’t worry that Chad’s genes were more prominent, which earned him a smack on the shoulder from his wife.

  Chad’s mother grinned as soon as the baby was placed in her arms. Jenna glanced up and caught Chad’s eye. He winked.

  It really was going to be okay.

  “Have you told them her name yet?” she whispered.

  Chad shook his head and cleared his throat. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Charlie Renee Wessex.”

  Dustin leaned over Sheryl’s shoulder, checking out the sleeping babe. “Charlie Renee, you say?” He touched the tiny hand and Charlie opened it and wrapped her fist around her grandfather’s finger.

  “Named after my wife,” Jenna’s dad piped up.

  “And Gramps,” Chad added, watching his father.

  “Good name,” Dustin said, his voice sounding thick, like he had something stuck in his throat.

  “She looks like a golfer, don’t you think, Dustin?” Sheryl asked.

  “Definitely.”

  She looked up at Chad. “Are you going to let us teach her to play golf?”

  Chad draped his arm around Jenna’s shoulders. At her nod, he said, “Of course.”

  “What about you two?” Dustin asked.

  “You know I’ve never been very good at golf,” Chad said.

  But Jenna knew what they were asking. “We’re getting married,” she blurted. Chad’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. She gave him a watery smile. “Hopefully.”

  “Definitely,” he said before kissing her temple.

  “Good,” Dustin said with a firm nod. “Good job, you two. I’m proud of you.”

  Jenna twined her fingers with Chad’s. “I’m proud of us too.”

  EPILOGUE

  “This one? Are you sure?” With Charlie’s head on his shoulder while he patted her little diaper-clad butt, Chad leaned over Jenna’s shoulder to look at the screen on her laptop.

  She nodded and glanced up at him. “Yes. Let’s call the real estate agent and make an appointment to see it. As soon as possible. I’ve already told the firm I’m not coming back. I’m ready for this move, Chad.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Me too, babe. But are you sure?”

  “Yes. The more we talk about it, the less we argue, have you noticed? I think we’ll be great business partners. And you know what? I think we should shut down the first two weeks of May each year, so we can vacation at your estate in Scotland.”

  “Our estate. I still can’t believe my dad and uncle just signed the whole thing over to us.”

  “I can.”

  Chad watched as she flipped through the pictures of a B&B located on a winery in northern Michigan, in a small town north of Traverse City. It was within walking distance of Lake Michigan and currently for sale for a very reasonable price. Not that price mattered to Chad, but it did to Jenna, and her happiness was what mattered to him.

  “Let’s get married at the estate in Scotland. We’ll fly your parents and your siblings over. And my parents. My uncle. Just our families. What do you say?”

  She stood, turned around, and hugged him, wrapping her arms around both he and the baby. “I think I love you, and that’s a marvelous idea.”

  “I love you too. And I can’t wait to start the rest of our lives. Together.”

  THE END

  Want more? Check out this Sexy Bad Daddy:

  Once upon a time Garrett Frost, bad boy of professional golf, found out he had a two-year-old daughter.

  Okay, okay, it wasn’t that long ago. His escapades are still in the media, and his sponsors are all in a tail spin, but his daughter sure is cute.

  That’s where I come in. I’m his nanny. The kid’s nanny. Of course, I’m not his. He’s older, my employer, totally off limits. And I can’t forget that, even if he makes me want to fall for him with every lingering gaze, each secret touch.

  He’s trying so hard to reform his professional image and be the father his daughter deserves. If anyone knew he was screwing his nanny it’d be all over the media, ruining his sponsorships, and affecting his relationship with his daughter. Or worse, convincing everyone we could be a family.

  But Garrett Frost’s family is the game and his daughter. There’s no room for me. So why does it feel like I’ve finally found my forever?

  SEXY BAD SERIES

  Sexy Bad Neighbor

  Sexy Bad Daddy

  Sexy Bad Boss

  Sexy Bad Valentine

  Coming Soon … Sexy Bad Escort

  SEXY BAD DADDY

  Chapter One

  ERIN

  “I gotta pee,” I tell my best friend Danny, who nods without taking his gaze off the flat-screen TV behind the bar, where a hockey game is in the last few minutes of the third period. And it looks like St. Louis is winning by a goal. Danny’s not going to be fun to be around if his precious Chicago Black Hawks don’t pull through.

  I make my way through a throng of people, most of whom are as focused on the TVs as Danny—did I mention we’re in the playoffs?—until I reach the restrooms located in a far back corner of the bar. After taking care of business, I head back to my drink and my buddy, but I’m waylaid by an arm snaking around my waist.

  “Hey, beautiful. Can you do us a favor?”

  This Romeo with his paw on my person is good-looking, I guess. He has short, dark hair and a few days’ growth on his cheeks, and a dimple flashes when he grins at me like he doesn’t care that his hand is resting on my hip more intimately than a perfect stranger has a right. I feel the bulge of muscle under his designer golf shirt and note the watch on his slim wrist is Rolex.

  I sure as hell can’t afford the labels he’s wearing, but it’s hard not to notice when you’re surrounded by it every day. And when you’re a nanny to the upper-echelon-with-kids, well, let’s just say that so
me of my charges will, on their sixteenth birthdays, drive far nicer vehicles than I ever will in my lifetime.

  The guy seated across from him in the booth has dark hair, too, and wears glasses; Armani, I think. I’m not usually into eyewear, but they work for him.

  “Probably not,” I say as I step out of his grip and he flexes his fingers, snagging my belt loop and pulling me back to him.

  “Come on, it’s easy,” he says. His partner shakes his head and takes a swig of beer.

  “What?” I ask, watching him through narrowed eyes and twisting out of his grasp again. The bar’s packed, so I could easily fade into the crowd at this point, but I’m the adventurous sort, so I stick around.

  “I’m Garrett, and this is my brother, Painter.” He waves at Mr. Eyeglasses, who lifts his hand in greeting.

  “Painter, like your parents pre-determined your profession?” I ask.

  “That never gets old,” the brother says, looking at Garrett instead of me.

  “It’s spelled with a Y,” Garrett explains to me.

  I clear my throat. “Um, right. Sorry. Nice to meet you guys.”

  “No sweat,” Paynter-with-a-Y says.

  “So anyway, Paynt here thinks I’m not nearly as good at picking up the ladies as I am,” Garrett says.

  “Actually, what I said was, you shouldn’t be,” his brother corrects him. “He sleeps around too damn much,” he explains for my benefit.

  I bite my lip to keep from laughing. I’m guessing they’re drunk, or at least Garrett is.

  “So tell me,” Garrett says, glancing up at me with puppy dog eyes that no doubt are at least partially to blame for the whole sleeping-around-too-damn-much issue. That muscle tone under his shirt certainly wouldn’t be a deterrent, either.

  “I have a boyfriend,” I blurt. Danny’s not remotely my boyfriend—he’s more like my sibling, or maybe the perfect just friend to tag along when you want to hang out at a sports bar—but I need an out here. I know my own shortcomings when it comes to good-looking, older guys who smell like money. Best to put up that wall before this conversation goes any further.

  “Too bad,” Garrett says. “But for the sake of argument, pretend you don’t. If I hit on you, would you go home with me?”

  Before I decided to try to grow the hell up and get my life on track, the answer might have been yes, but for all the wrong reasons. Not anymore, though. I’m a new woman. A better woman.

  “She’s hesitating.” Garrett stabs his finger at Paynter. “Told you. They can’t resist me.”

  “You’re such an ass,” Paynter says.

  “Nah, I’m living the dream. Just because you’re tied down to a goat and a hot executive doesn’t mean you gotta beat up on my perfectly satisfying lifestyle.”

  A goat and a hot executive? I can’t decide if I want to stay and learn more or run away.

  “I’m not sure I like you referring to Chloe as a ‘hot executive,’” his brother says.

  Garrett lifts his bottle like he’s saluting me. “For the record, it isn’t what you’re thinking.”

  “So it’s not something to do with a threesome between him, a woman in a pencil skirt, and an animal?” I ask.

  Garrett roars with laughter while his brother shakes his head and mutters something about rumors and a game of telephone.

  “I mean, hey, whatever floats your boat,” I add. “I’m not one to judge.” Like I have any right to.

  Once he catches his breath, Garrett turns his focus to me again, and I’m momentarily drowning in gorgeous, glassy, blue eyes. Holy crap, they’re beautiful. I take back my “I guess” about this guy being good-looking. Those eyes are straight off a romance novel cover. Does he wear colored contacts?

  “So, back to you, beautiful. What’s your name?”

  “Erin,” I say before I remember that I’m a changed woman.

  “She has a boyfriend, dumbass,” Paynter says.

  “Score!” Garrett and Paynter both shout at the same time, and they—along with pretty much everyone else in the bar—leap out of their seats, high-fiving and clunking their beers together. I’m guessing the Black Hawks tied the game.

  “Yes,” Garrett yells, and he sweeps me into a hug, one of those full-body embraces, where every inch of me is touching every inch of him. And it makes me tingle in places that are not supposed to feel that way about guys like him. He’s loaded, he screws around too much, and he’s way too confident. Not. My. Type.

  Not anymore.

  “Boyfriend, remember?” I manage to choke out, my pitiful attempt to convince him to let me go despite my hands clinging to his beefy biceps.

  My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and Garrett finally releases me. I tug it out and glance at the screen. “Oh crap, this is my one night out all week, and now it’s getting cut short.”

  “Why’s that?” Garrett asks, blatantly looking at my phone.

  “The wife of the family I nanny for wants me to call her. Usually, that means they’ve had as much as they can take of their kids and they want me to rescue them.”

  “You’re a nanny?” The intensity of his blue-eyed stare makes my insides squirm and wiggle like Jell-O. No, no, no. I don’t hook up with guys like him.

  “Yeah. Real glamorous, I know. But it pays the bills and gives me a place to live.”

  “I need a nanny.”

  Oh shit. Not only is he hot—and screws around too much—but he’s married with kids. Not in a million years.

  I wave the phone, which starts ringing. It’s Mrs. Danish. Guess she couldn’t wait for me to call her. “Already employed. Sorry.”

  I turn away to answer the call. Maybe if she hears all the noise in the background, she’ll cut me a break and let me stay a little longer.

  “Erin?”

  “Hi, Mrs. Danish. Sorry, I’m watching the Black Hawks. They just tied up the game, so it’s a little loud right now. I can call you back when I leave.”

  “No, that’s quite all right. This won’t take long. You’re fired.”

  “Huh?” I twist around so I’m facing Garrett and his brother, like that’ll somehow help me hear her better. Because surely she didn’t say what I think she said. Garrett’s watching me, his brow furrowed, but I’m too stunned to walk away from his obvious curiosity.

  “I said, you’re fired. I’ll leave a check for this week’s pay and a substantial severance on the dresser in your room. I’d like you to be out by morning. Actually, tonight would be better.” Her husband is talking in the background, and she snaps at him to shut up.

  “Why?” I finally manage to ask. This has been my best nanny gig to date. Mrs. Danish is normally a sweet woman with curly, dark hair and generous curves, while her husband has graying, thin hair and an even-keel disposition. Other than their overfull social calendars, working for them has been a breeze. And let’s be honest: The only person I hang with on the reg is Danny, so even the fact I tend to watch their kids every evening as well as day doesn’t bother me.

  Mr. Danish says something again, and his wife’s voice is this low, stage whisper as she says, “It has come to our attention … that you have a history of, er, dallying with the husbands of your employers.”

  Well, shit.

  “Who was that?” Garrett asks when I tap the screen of my phone to disconnect the call. I don’t answer right away, and he pushes an icy cold bottle of beer into my hand. “Here. You look like you need this.”

  I lift it to my lips and chug, letting the carbonated, hoppy drink numb my senses. When I finally stop to catch my breath, I’ve drained more than half the bottle.

  “Wow,” Paynter says.

  “So, bad news?” Garrett asks.

  I stare at my phone. “I just got fired.” I don’t know why I tell him. I don’t know him, and when I leave this bar, I’ll never see him again. I should make my way back to Danny, so I can cry on his shoulder. He’ll tell me I’m an idiot for continuing to try to stay gainfully employed in a profession that clearly doesn’t want me, and I
’ll tell him I’ve vested too much of my life into this nanny gig and if I switch careers now, I’ll have to start at the bottom, and who the hell wants to do that after eight years of doing something they love?

  “Why?” Garrett says.

  “Er…” I can’t tell him why. There’s too much backstory, and besides, it isn’t true. Well, not entirely. I may be into older guys, but even I have my limits. Mr. Danish is nice, but he reminds me of my grandpa. A paunch and a propensity to blather on about insoles are definitely not turn-ons for me.

  “So why’d they fire you?” Garrett asks again. I don’t have to answer. I could just walk away. And start updating my resume.

  Again.

  Instead, I say, “They, um, don’t need me anymore, I guess.”

  “And they chose to call you on Friday night to tell you this? Are you getting two weeks’ notice? Did they find a replacement? This seems awfully abrupt, doesn’t it?”

  “Why are you so concerned?” I knew I should have walked away. “Look, I need to get back to—”

  “Because I need a nanny. I’ve been interviewing them for—how long?” Garrett looks at his brother, apparently waiting for an answer.

  “At least a couple months. You’re damn lucky your brother works from home and thinks your daughter is cute as hell,” Paynter says.

  “Right. So anyway, I’m curious. What should I be looking for in a nanny? Every one I’ve interviewed hasn’t felt right, y’know?”

  “Actually, I do know. You definitely need to click with the person. And so does your child. You have just one?”

  “Yeah, a daughter. She’s three. And Paynt’s right. She’s cute as hell.”

  I smile. Of course she is.

  “So you need someone who’s good with toddlers. Who will get down on the floor and play with them at their level, as well as teach them. Someone who will take her to the zoo and to see Sue, the most complete fossil of a T. rex ever found. At this age, they should get a healthy balance of fun and education to help prepare them for school in a couple years.”