The Nanny Bombshell. Michelle Celmer
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“I’ll call my decorator. You can fix it however you like. Paint, furniture, the works.”
She opened her mouth to tell him that wouldn’t be necessary, and he held up one ridiculously large palm to shush her. “Do you really think I’m going to let you stay in a room you despise? This is going to be your home. I want you to be comfortable here.”
She wondered if he was always this nice, or if he was just so desperate for a reliable nanny he would do anything to convince her to take the job. If that was the case, she could probably negotiate a higher salary, but it wasn’t about the money. She just wanted to be with her girls.
“If you’re sure it’s not a problem, I wouldn’t mind adding a few feminine touches,” she told him.
“You can sleep in the nursery until it’s finished, or if you’d prefer more privacy, there’s a fold-out love seat in my office.”
“The nursery is fine.” She didn’t care about privacy, and she liked the idea of sleeping near her girls.
He nodded to Fern and said, “I think we should lay them down. It’s afternoon nap time.”
Sierra looked down at Fern and realized that she had fallen asleep, her thumb still wedged in her mouth, and Ivy, who had laid her head on Coop’s enormously wide shoulder, was looking drowsy, too.
They carried the girls back to the nursery and laid them in their beds—Fern on the right side and Ivy on the left—then they stepped quietly out and Coop shut the door behind them.
“How long will they sleep?” Sierra asked.
“On a good day, two hours. But they slept in until eight this morning, so maybe less.” He paused in the hall and asked, “Before we call my attorney, would you like something to drink? We have juice and soda … baby formula.”
She smiled. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Okay, if you’re having any second thoughts, this is your last chance to change your mind.”
That would never happen. He was stuck with her. “No second thoughts.”
“Great, let’s go to my office and call Ben,” Coop said with a grin. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
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