Page 179 of Cowboy Daddies

Wrangling Little Casey

By Laylah Roberts

Running from the past, Casey finds herself stranded in a small town with no money. So when she’s offered a job as a nanny, she doesn’t have much choice but to take it.

Even if her new employer is bossy, overprotective, and a sexy Daddy Dom.

So basically everything she’d ever dreamed of . . .

Chapter One

“You’re in my swing.”

Casey stared at the small boy glaring at her. Then she glanced around the empty public playground. Which had a total of four swings.

And he wanted hers?

She sucked on her lollipop as she eyed him. His face was turning red and his cheeks were puffed out. He squinted at her with his hands clenched into fists at his side.

Dude was about to blow.

Casey drew out her lollipop. Yeah, she knew she should probably let him have the swing.

He was a kid. And she was . . . what?

An embarrassment to the family?

A lost cause?

Childish?

Damn. She hated how those words still hurt.

“Your swing?” she asked, wondering where his parents were. He couldn’t be much more than five or six.

He nodded slowly. “Yep.”

“Didn’t know that anyone could own a public swing,” she drawled. “Did you write your name on it?”

“My mama’s name is on the whole playground,” he said, pointing to a sign behind him.

Casey hadn’t been paying much attention to her surroundings as she’d wandered into the playground. So she didn’t know what the sign actually said.

She’d just wanted to get out of her car and stretch her legs after driving for the last twelve hours. Although now exhaustion seemed to be dragging her down.

After yawning, she blinked rapidly. Wasn’t fresh air supposed to wake you up? She pushed the swing to distract herself. “Why is your mama’s name on the sign?”

“Because she died,” the little boy said. “And Papa made this playground in her . . . to be . . . um, I forget the word. But for her. Because she loved playgrounds.”

“I love playgrounds too,” Casey told him. “They’re so fun. Some of my best memories are at playgrounds.”

“That swing is mine and I need it.” He put his hands on his small hips and gave her a mutinous look.

Casey swung back and forth. She wondered when his mama had died. Poor kid.

“Why do you need it?” she asked.

Where was his Papa? Why wasn’t he keeping an eye on this boy?