5+Us Makes Seven: A Nanny Single Dad Romance Read online

  This man was offering me six figures to watch his children?

  “Is that fair?” Carter asked.

  “It’s, um… more than fair,” I said.

  “My kids are rambunctious.”

  “Welcome to having three kids under the age of seven,” I said.

  “I’ll need you at this address at six in the morning,” he said as he handed me another sheet of paper. “You’ll be responsible for getting them up, dressed, fed, and off to school. I have files on the three of them I’ll lay out for you on the counter. If you want to come early and read through them before they wake up, be my guest.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “There will be a spare key in the mailbox. That key is yours. For now, you won’t be working weekends, but you will be on-call. My company’s in the middle of a massive merger, so there will be times I’ll need you as promptly as I can get you.”

  “Not a problem,” I said.

  “Whatever you feel is required in terms of their schedules is fine with me. You seem qualified to do that sort of thing.”

  “It is my degree,” I said.

  “See you in the morning,” he said.

  Then I was dismissed with the flick of his wrist.

  Four

  Carter

  My alarm started blaring at six in the morning and I groaned. Sometimes, six hours of sleep was simply not enough. The sun wasn’t even out, and my bedroom was pitch black. I couldn’t even fucking see my hand in front of my face.

  I pulled myself from the bed and made my way into the bathroom. I ran some hot water, then placed a washcloth underneath it. I needed to shave and spruce myself up for the day. This company merger was weighing heavily on my mind, and if we acquired this German marketing company it would put us on the international map for good.

  Which meant more stability for the families employed by my company.

  I took my time shaving as the kids began to stir. Shit. Was someone here to volley them? I hadn’t heard anyone come through the front door yet, but I also wasn’t paying attention. I finished up my shaving and threw on a shirt, then walked into the hallway just in time to see Carla bounding down the stairs.

  Then, the insanity began to take place.

  I heard the couch springs creaking as I came down the stairs. I saw clean clothes being flung everywhere in the foyer as Joshua dug for something to wear to school. Clara was bouncing around in her seat at the kitchen table and there wasn’t a sign of the woman I had hired.

  Did she forget today was her start day?

  I sighed and came into the kitchen and was stopped by a presence. There she was, with her long brown hair and her amber-colored eyes, looking over files I had set out on the counter of the children. Medical records and evaluations. School grades and notes teachers sent home. Daycare notes for Clara and vaccination reports and allergy tests and medications they all took for different things.

  And the kids were running amok.

  “Nathaniel, get off that couch,” I said.

  “He’s fine,” Natasha said. “He’s got five more minutes.”

  Her eyes never lifted from the file folder as Nathaniel bounced from couch to couch. I furrowed my brow at her, trying to figure out if I had heard her correctly. She was letting Nathaniel jump on the couch? My seven-thousand-dollar couch?

  Was she insane?

  Holy fuck, I had hired an insane woman to watch my kids.

  “Joshua, did you find your shirt yet?” Natasha asked.

  “I thought it was in here,” he said. “I really did.”

  “Pick up your mess and go try your room,” she said.

  “But-”

  “Now, Joshua.”

  I looked around the corner and watched as my son huffed. He was angry, but he was listening. Tossing the shirts back into the laundry room and closing the door. I smelled coffee permeating the air as I closed my eyes, trying to take in everything that was happening at once.

  “How do you take your coffee, Mr. Marshall?”

  I opened my eyes and saw Natasha with a full mug of coffee in front of her. She was staring at me with that sweet little gaze of hers as she waited for my response. My eyes rushed down her body, taking in the tight jeans and the loose top she had on for her day.

  Even at six in the morning, the woman was beautiful.

  “Black,” I said. “I take it black.”

  “Then here you go,” she said. “Nathaniel! Time’s up!”

  “Can I have five more minutes?” he asked.

  “No, sir. That was our agreement, and you want to be a man of your word, right?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Then come sit down so I can get you guys breakfast,” she said.

  I watched my son get off the couch and sit down by his sister at the table. I was holding the mug of coffee in my hand as I stood there in utter shock. My kids had never been this obedient before. Ever. How the hell was this woman doing this? How was she taking command of my rambunctious kids?

  “I found it!” Joshua said.

  “Good job, buddy! Now clean up the mess you made in your room,” Natasha said.

  “But I’m hungry.”

  “Then you’ll eat once you’re done cleaning up,” she said. “And if you don’t do a good enough job the first time, then you’ll have to redo it after school.”

  “Aw, man,” Joshua said.

  But then I heard him march back to his room.

  “What would you guys like for breakfast?” she asked.

  “Cereal and milk,” Clara said.

  “Is that what you really want? Because once I make it, that’s what you’re eating,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Clara said.

  “And you, Nathaniel?”

  “Could I have peanut butter toast?” he asked.

  “Of course you can. But once I make it, you’re eating it,” she said. “Want any juice?”

  “Apple juice!” Nathaniel and Clara said.

  “Can I have some apple juice?” Joshua asked.

  “Are you done cleaning your room up?” she asked.

  “Yeah. It was just some shirts. I put them back in my drawer,” he said.

  “Good job, kiddo. You get some apple juice. What about food? You hungry?”

  “Can I have a banana?” Joshua asked.

  “Yes, you can. And for you?”

  Natasha turned to me and waited to take my order. Like she was some kind of waitress. I knew I was staring at her with a dumbfounded look on my face, but I couldn’t help it. She was a beautiful young woman standing in my kitchen with jeans that hugged so many curves and she was commanding my children like she’d been here for years. I was in awe of what she was able to do with them already and she had only been in my house for a couple of hours at the most.

  “I’ll grab an apple on the way out,” I said.

  “Suit yourself. For the rest of you, breakfast will be up in about five minutes,” Natasha said.

  I was leaving for work as Natasha piled the kids into the car. I tried to keep my mind on things regarding the merger, but it was hard to concentrate. I was still blown away from the morning’s activities, and part of me wanted to throw my arms around Logan. If this was how it was going to be every fucking morning, then that woman was going to earn every single penny I was paying her.

  And then some.

  We were a couple of days away from sealing the merger. The formal meeting between my board of investors and theirs went well. We plotted out logistics, like downsizing and merging names and having a headquarters both in San Francisco and in Frankfurt. The meeting ended with final talks of pricing for what we would pay their board of investors to hand over everything to us, so it was only a matter of our lawyers drawing up the paperwork.

  And I couldn't wait to get home and ask my kids about their first day with Natasha.

  When I walked into my house, the smell that greeted me was decadent. Lemon and thyme and just a hint of honey. Garlic and something akin to green beans w
ere swirling around my head. I dropped my briefcase at my feet and hung my coat on the rack, then loosened up my tie as I walked through the house.

  “Kids? You home?” I asked.

  “Doing homework, dad. Sheesh,” Nathaniel said.

  I walked around with a furrowed brow and found my kids sitting on the couch. They had their books in their laps with the television going silently in the background. Nathaniel was working on his times tables and Joshua was getting in his required daily reading. Carla was sitting at the coffee table tracing the letters of her name, and all of them were immersed in their activities.

  Homework was a nightmare with them.

  And yet, there they were. Doing it without a fight.

  “How was work?”

  I whipped around at the sound of Natasha’s voice. She was in the kitchen wearing an apron as she pulled something out of the oven. The smell was heavenly and I closed my eyes to take it all in. There were warm buns on the table and place settings for all of us. There were glasses full of ice and the blinds were rolled up so we could see out into the backyard.

  “I helped with table, Daddy.”

  I looked down at Clara and gathered her in my arms. I threw her up in the air and she started giggling. She kissed my cheek and I held her close, burying my face into the crook of her neck.

  “Did you have a good day at school?” I asked.

  “Yeah. But only half.”

  “You only had a half day today?” I asked.

  “Uh huh. I nap, and had snack, and Nattie read to me,” she said.

  “What did you guys read?”

  “The Tree.”

  “The Giving Tree,” Natasha said. “But we’re working on her ‘g’’s.”

  I looked over at her as she held a pan in her hands. There was a duck in the pan, slathered in a honey lemon and basil sauce. She walked it over to the table and set it down, then plucked the green beans from off the kitchen counter. My mouth was watering as I took in the smells, but I couldn't take my eyes off her.

  This woman who had somehow come into my house and flipped it on it’s head within a day.

  “How’s the homework coming, boys?”

  “Just got done,” Nathaniel said.

  “I still have to read five pages,” Joshua said.

  “Well, how about this? If you come and eat some green beans along with your sweet rolls, I’ll read the last five pages to you,” Natasha said.

  “Really?” Joshua asked.

  “But you have to eat your green beans. No green beans, you read it yourself.”

  “Yeah!”

  The boys rushed to the table before she plucked Clara from my arms. How the hell had I lucked up with this woman? I needed to give Logan a raise. Or send him a gift basket. Or get him an all-expenses paid vacation to The Maldives in some private hut somewhere. My family wasn’t recognizable. My children were well-behaved. They were listening. They were doing their homework. Joshua was already picking at the green beans and Clara was actually wanting to try the duck.

  How the hell had she done all of this?

  “Ready to eat?” she asked.

  “It smells wonderful,” I said.

  “Then sit down and take a load off. Now, who wants lemonade?”

  Between the five of us, we drained the pitcher of lemonade Natasha had made. There was very little to put up in terms of leftovers, and my kids had stuffed themselves full. Natasha settled with Joshua on the couch and read the last five pages of his required reading to him, then it was time for the kids to get ready for bed. I washed up the boys while she took care of Clara, then we bedded them down and kissed them goodnight.

  The boys even wanted to see Natasha before they went to bed.

  She came down the stairs with her hips swaying and her hair brushing her shoulders. I popped open a bottle of wine and poured myself a glass. She finally took that damn apron off and hung it up in the pantry, then went to gather her things that were slung in in the corner.

  But I wanted to know how her first day went.

  I wanted to know what her secret was.

  “Care for a glass of wine?” I asked.

  “I really shouldn’t. I don’t hold my alcohol well, so you’d be stuck with me until that glass of wine worked its way through my system,” Natasha said.

  “If you get in deep, there are plenty of guest rooms for you to sleep in here,” I said.

  “I really should be getting home. I’ve got this new apartment and my friend told me my furniture was delivered. I’m sure the place is a wreck if she was in charge of things.”

  “Just one glass. I want to hear about how you’ve taken my wild children and turned them into decent human beings.”

  She giggled and shook her head and the sound was delightful. I poured her a glass and held it out for her, hoping she would take it. I wasn’t ready to relinquish her just yet. I wanted to know more about her day. How my kids had been and the things she changed and the tactics she used to whip them into shape.

  I also wanted to know more about her. About her time in Africa and what she planned on doing with the rest of her life.

  Because I had a hard time imagining she would want to be a nanny for the duration of her career.

  “I’m sure one won’t hurt then,” she said.

  Five

  Natasha

  “So you made the decision to pull Clara out of full-day preschool,” Carter said.

  “I did. I dropped her off and I could see how anxious she was, so I talked to her teacher about it. She told me her preschool payment debits automatically from an account, so make sure that payment lowers the next time it comes out,” I said.

  “Anxious? What do you mean?” he asked.

  “It was subtle, but it was there. I don’t think Clara was adjusting well to preschool, and that’s normal. As a three-year old, that shouldn’t be expected of her. I talked with her teacher and then told Clara I’d be back during lunch to pick her up and her eyes lit up. And she wasn’t overtired or anything when I got her, so I think this schedule will stick a little better.”

  “Was she acting up in school or something?” he asked.

  “Not at all. But her teachers did say she plays by herself a lot, which doesn’t fit her personality. Full-time days in that type of environment aren’t normal for a kid her age. She’s still in a stage where she can be easily overwhelmed by things going on around her. Sights. Sounds. Smells. The presence of people. That wanes with age, but she isn’t there yet.”

  “You think it’s smart for her to be in school at all then?”

  “For her? Yes. Her teachers said she was much more social today when I went to pick her up at lunch time. She needs friends and she needs to learn how to interact with them. And then she needs to come home, take a nap, and decompress from being around so many people for so long.”

  “Sounds almost like an introvert,” he said.

  “And Clara very well might be one. But for now, this schedule works. I’ll keep an eye on it to make sure it continues to work, and if something happens I’ll toggle it again. If going everyday is too much, I’ll take her three times a week. We’ll find something that works for the little person she is.”

  “What about the boys? How did they do today?”

  “They were good. Very tired after school. I laid them down on the couch for about an hour.”

  “Tired?” he asked. “They usually come home bouncing off the walls.”

  “It isn’t the large cues you have to watch, but the smaller ones. Yes, they were combative and running around, but they were also rubbing their eyes. They couldn’t talk to me without holding back a yawn. All of those are cues that they are overtired.”

  “When you said ‘overtired’, what do you mean?”

  “That they’ve blown past the point of being tired and have gotten into a state of being angry because they can’t do anything about being tired.”

  “So you laid them down,” he said.

  “I did. Only for an hour
. I woke them up and they weren’t happy about it, but I placed some milk in front of them for them to have once they woke up. They drank it and felt much better, then I told them to dive into their homework whenever they were ready.”

  “Did the fight you on it?”

  “A little,” I said. “Joshua wanted to watch cartoons so I told him he could watch a cartoon, then he had to read. Nathaniel did he times tables while the television was going, so when the cartoon was done I muted the television instead of turning it off.”

  “I’ve been told that distracts kids. Did it not distract them?” he asked.

  “Not really. Joshua was a little distracted, but Nathaniel worked right through it. I’m going to keep an eye on that, but for kids born into this technological age where everything is beeping and flashing and making some sort of noise, it’s becoming more common for them to need that constant stimulation to stay focused.”

  “Whatever works,” he said with a sigh. “They just seem like three totally different kids.”

  “They’re the same kids, but they’re understood now. That’s the difference,” I said.

  “Well, I’m glad they haven’t chased you off yet.”

  “They’re good kids, Mr. Marshall-”

  “Carter,” he said. “You can call me Carter.”

  “They’re good kids, Carter. There’s no such thing as a ‘bad kid’. Only a misled and misunderstood one.”

  “Sounds like a good philosophy to have,” he said. “Did you do a lot of work with kids in Africa?”

  “That was my sole purpose. When I was attached to Doctors Without Borders, they sent our crew into an area that needed serious pediatric help. My goal was to detect and help develop plans for the children in Bria with developmental delays.”

  “Bria. Why does that sound familiar?” he asked.

  “It’s a place in the Central African Republic that’s been ravaged by war. They’ve been in the news a few times over the past several months,” I said.

  “Did you witness any of that kind of thing? Or did that happen in a part of Bria you weren’t in?”