Page 33 of The Grump I Got Stuck With

I resigned myself to Princess’s presence, but it still took both Madison and me to actually get Kenna clean. By the end of it, I was serving the damn dog cups of soapy tea as part of Kenna’s water tea party, and I was absolutely drenched.

“All done!” Kenna announced, pulling the plug. Princess started barking at the whirlpool that formed as the water slipped down the drain.

I reached for Kenna, pulling her from the water, and wrapped her in a fluffy pink towel while Madison rubbed Princess down with another. Princess did not love that, wriggling free and racing out the door, still dripping.

Kenna laughed and ran after her, towel fluttering behind her like a cape.

“Why do I feel like I’m the one who had a bath?” Madison said, climbing to her feet. She ran her hands down her front, picking at her damp shirt.

I couldn’t help checking her out. A saint wouldn’t have been able to look away, and I was no bloody saint. The back of my throat went dry as I took in the way the waterlogged clothing clung to her body. It highlighted her curves, each one more enticing than the last. Each one calling out to be touched. I itched to reach for her. To run my hands over the roundness of her hips, the dip of her waist. A dangerous heat coiled in my chest, sinking into my stomach…

I glanced up quickly, sure I was about to find myself in trouble. But Madison didn’t look bothered. She was doing her own looking, bottom lip caught between her teeth, and I wondered what thoughts were running through her head.

…the grumpiest and the hottest man I’ve ever met…

Did she still think that? I sort of wanted her to. And I knew how delusional that sounded.

“Here,” I said, opening the cupboard beneath the sink and grabbing a spare towel. I passed it to her, liking the way her gaze flickered from my lips to my eyes. “You’re looking a little wet.”

Her breath hitched, the corner of her mouth curling as she wrapped the towel around herself. “And you’re looking…” She trailed off, as if she couldn’t find the words she wanted. Or maybe she just didn’t dare say them out loud.

The heat inside me flamed, like blowing on a spark. It had been a while since I’d experienced genuine feminine appreciation, and I couldn’t deny it felt really damn good. It was like that morning in the kitchen, when I’d run out of the shower after hearing the fire alarm. There’d been a moment when I was sure she was checking me out, enjoying all the skin on display.

And I had to admit, I wanted her to look, to appreciate, to think about me. Even though wanting that meant unlocking a part of myself that had been shut off for months.

The truth was, after Jessica had stolen from Voyages and run off, I hadn’t been lacking in women wanting to console me. I just hadn’t been in the right frame of mind. My world had narrowed to doing damage control and protecting Kenna. The last thing I had time to entertain was a beautiful woman. But Jessica was in the past, the trial was long done, and now Madison was standing in front of me, the definition of beautiful.

“You’re staring,” she said, cutting through the intensity that had engulfed us.

“You’re staring. I’m chivalrously offering you towels.”

“’Cause you’re worried about me being wet?”

“It is indeed a concern of mine.”

Her chest heaved, and those pale pink lips parted as she regarded me. I wanted so badly to lean down and find out what she tasted like. I knew this was flirting with disaster, not just because she was Kenna’s nanny but because I knew the dangers of letting anyone close.

If the trial had taught me anything, it was that most people couldn’t be trusted. My self-centered stepmum had been more than happy to answer questions from any journalist who pointed a microphone her way, happy to bask in her fifteen minutes of adjacent fame. And before I’d pulled Kenna out of nursery, one of the mums there had offered me a comforting ear as I lamented about everything that had happened with Jessica. I’d stupidly opened up more than I should have, and she went and sold the story to the tabloids.

Letting people get close was a mistake. I knew that. My world extended to Weston and Locke, who I trusted with my life, and to their partners who were lovely and utterly trustworthy. But there hadn’t been anyone in my life in an intimate capacity since the morning I woke up to find Jessica gone. And I didn’t want anyone in my life in that way—not when there would always be a chance of it going disastrously wrong.

At the same time, though, Madison was…so Madison. She was sunshine personified. Open and honest and so transparently without agenda. She wasn’t lurking around a corner, camera in hand, waiting to catch me off guard. And maybe that’s why I couldn’t help teasing her, flirting with her…admiring her.

“Daddy!” Kenna called.

“I’ll go,” Madison said, handing me the towel back, giving me a heated look as she twisted, sauntering away with too much sway for it to be an accident.

Something was happening here, between us. I could sense the danger of opening up again, but I could also recall the delight of holding a woman in my arms. Maybe, with Madison, it wouldn’t be so horrible to see where things might go. Maybe I could let my walls down a little—enough to let her in and understand why the sight of her walking away left my heart crashing against my ribs.

Three weeks. That was how long I had before a proper nanny turned up and this stopped being a question I had to answer.

11

ALISTAIR

Another week passed and I was feeling remarkably comfortable having Madison in the house looking after Kenna, and I didn’t know what to think of that. Alfie had completed her background check relatively quickly, with nothing concerning. I knew that she worked as a paralegal in Connecticut and had taken a leave of absence but Alfie’s source couldn’t provide any other details.

What would bring her to Scotland seemingly on a whim?