If You Give a Single Dad a Nanny (Aspen Grove, #1)

by Ann Einerson

If you give a single dad a neighbor, he may be tempted to ask her to be his daughter’s nanny. And if he asks her to be his daughter’s nanny, he’ll start to have feelings for her. He’ll want to invite her over for dinner and take care of her when she’s sick, and then he’ll kiss her in the hallway and call her a “good girl” in the back of an art gallery because she’s all he’s been able to think about…

And I am here for the ride

“It was such a pleasure to meet you, Lola,” Marlow says. When she stands up, she leans toward me so only I can hear. “I’m not sure I can say the same for you, but thanks for the tour, regardless.” She winks. “You shouldn’t frown so much or someday your face could get stuck that way.”

This routine started a week after she moved in. There was a massive snowstorm, and when she never came out to remove the snow, I ended up doing it for her. Now, whenever there’s heavy snowfall, I shovel her driveway.

For a reason I can’t explain, it’s difficult to resist the captivating effect Marlow’s smile has, momentarily changing my mood, and bringing a lightness to my step.

I march toward Marlow, preparing to unleash my frustrations. Not only was she playing her music too loud, but she was distracting me as she swayed to the beat in those goddamn yoga pants. My thinking is irrational considering she has no control over my wayward thoughts, but it doesn’t prevent my annoyance that being near her causes my pulse to race. I stop short when I glance up and am met with her unique blue and green gaze. She gives me a tentative smile and any inclination to reprimand her evaporates. Damn, that smile of hers gets me every time.

🤭

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not safe for you to be out after dark, and there’s no way that thing is keeping you warm in this weather.” He motions to my puffer coat. “You’re beautiful in whatever you wear, so a few extra layers won’t do you any harm, if you’re concerned about how you look.”

“Dylan, what are you doing?” she murmurs. “Thinking about what it would be like to kiss you,” I say softly.

However, there’s been a slight modification to the notes addressed to me. Good morning, sunshine, I hope you enjoy your breakfast. Have a great day. -Dylan

Marlow and Lola are both asleep in my bed.

I step forward and lift her chin with my hand. Her tear-filled eyes meet mine. “Please don’t cry, sunshine.” I wipe away a stray tear with my thumb.

“I have a confession,” I say softly. “What is it?” Marlow looks up at me. “Lola isn’t the only one I missed while I was gone.”

“You taste sweeter than I imagined, sweetheart,” I groan into her mouth.

A couple of months ago, I would have been bothered by the disarray left downstairs, but now that I know what it feels like to have Marlow wrapped in my arms—to kiss her—I’m not so bothered by the mess anymore.

Good morning, sunshine, Take these with water and call me so I can bring you something to eat. -Dylan

I make my way downstairs, and my mouth falls open when I take in my surroundings. The entryway is spotless—my shoes are arranged on a new shoe rack, Waffles’ toys are piled neatly in a basket, and there’s no trace of dog hair on the floor. As I wander into the living room, my gaze lands on several stacks of laundry folded on the couch.

Ok hes a saint

“What are you doing?” A look of confusion crosses my face when he picks up the steaming bowl of soup and a spoon. “Feeding you?” “I can do that myself.” I reach for the bowl, but he moves it out of my reach. “A few minutes ago, you almost fell over because you were so weak. I’m not chancing you losing your grip and spilling broth on your comforter.” “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” I challenge. He shakes his head. “Would you rather keep arguing with me or eat something?

“I want you to listen carefully, sunshine.” He cups my face with his hands and looks me directly in the eyes. “You might not be perfect, hell nobody is, but you are incredible just the way you are. You find the silver lining in any situation and have a gift for making people smile on their worst days.”

THIS IS A REALLY BAD idea. Why the hell did I suggest I stay with Marlow while she took a bath? Because she’s sick and needs your help. Tell that to my rock-hard cock straining against my boxer briefs while I watch her pull her shirt over her head, revealing a lilac lace bra. Her breasts spill out over the top, evoking an image of her straddling me while I worship her perfect tits. I force myself to avert my gaze before she catches me gawking.

Her body visibly relaxes at my touch, and I realize that I enjoy taking care of her. I think that’s why I started making her breakfast each morning.

Early on, I committed to doing everything I could to guarantee Lola didn’t miss out on a happy childhood because her mom wasn’t around.” I pause, fastening a hair tie to the end of Marlow’s braid. “That meant memorizing the CoComelon theme song when she was a toddler, learning to style her hair, and cutting sandwiches into the shapes of unicorns and rainbows. I’d gladly do it all a hundred times over to make sure she knows that she’s loved unconditionally.”

my ovaries!!

“If you have a problem with Marlow being here, why don’t you take it up with me since I’m the one who invited her,” Dylan says loud enough for everyone to hear. Oh dear. Sarah’s jaw drops in disbelief. Dylan is typically reserved in public, and it’s not like him to cause a scene. Hopefully, no one will notice me grinning like an idiot, delighting in the fact that Dylan Stafford just stood up for me at his daughter’s craft class. “Th-there’s no problem,” Sarah stutters, blinking rapidly. “I just wanted to make sure there was enough room for the kids, that’s all.” I squeak in surprise when Dylan pulls me toward him, turning me around so my back is against his chest, his hand possessively on my hip. “There, now your daughter has plenty of room.”

I SCREAMEDDD

Taking care of Marlow brings me a sense of satisfaction that I’ve been missing. Now that I know what it’s like, there’s a part of me that yearns to be the one she trusts to heal all her wounds, the one to kiss away the pain.

“And what is it that you want?” she asks, her gaze filled with uncertainty. “We’ve tiptoed around this conversation for weeks, and I don’t think you’ve ever said.” “For starters, I really want to kiss you, and if we’re being blunt”—I glance down the hall to make sure Lola’s still in the other room—“I want to strip you bare and fuck you.”

AHHHHHH

Unable to help myself, I close the gap between us, allowing my lips to briefly graze hers. “Mark my words, Marlow Taylor, when we finally get a moment to ourselves, I’m going to do much more than kiss you.”

“Marlow, several patrons flew in from Europe to attend your show tonight. If that isn’t proof enough that this is a big deal, we’ve sold all but one of the pieces in your collection, and the exhibition just started thirty minutes ago.” “I’m buying the last painting,” I say to Gavin. “Are you sure? It’s the most expensive in the collection. It’s ninety—” “The cost doesn’t matter. I want it,” I state, leaving no room for argument.

honestly a favorite microtrope

“You like it when I call you my good girl, don’t you?”

“No more waiting, sweetheart.” I waste no time pushing her panties aside and sinking two fingers inside her. “Damn, you’re soaked. Is this all for me?”

Sweetheart is kiiiilllllling me😩😩💦💦

“Are you going to come on my hand with a room full of people only a few feet away?”

“Be mine, sunshine? The only person I want to be with is you.” “Dylan, I can’t promise—” “I know.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “All I’m asking is for tonight… and tomorrow. And the day after that.

“I don’t want to wait another second to be inside you,” he rasps. “Tell me I can go bare. I don’t want anything between us.

YES SIRRRRR

I moan loudly as he picks up his pace, shifting the angle of his cock, pressing against my G-spot, and I gasp at the new sensation. “I’m so close,” I say. “Play with your clit like my good girl.” He drops his head against my shoulder, putting all his energy into driving himself deeper.

“I’m not leaving until you’ve had coffee, breakfast, and at least one more orgasm,” I promise. “My hero.” She grins, leaning in for a kiss.

Fuck, my hero too!!

I flip Marlow onto her back, settling above her with my legs on either side, locking her arms in place over her head. “I’m going to fuck you nice and slow, and then take you to the best breakfast spot in New York.”

I’m captivated by her sinful curves, unable to look away. Her body is a work of art, and she’s all mine. “You’re fucking perfect, sweetheart,”

“Dylan,” she breathes out, my name falling from her lips like a prayer. “That’s right, sunshine. I’m the one who owns your pleasure,” I remind her.

When I turn the vibrator onto the max setting, she screams out my name. “Please, Dylan. Please let me come,” she begs. “Have you been a good girl?” “Yes,” she mumbles as she averts her gaze. I grip her chin with my hand so she’s forced to look at me. “Look at me when you come.”

“That’s it. Take it, take the whole damn thing.”

🫠🫠

I look down to where our bodies join. “Damn, look at you taking my cock like such a good girl.”

“Holy shit,” I call out as she clings to me. “You almost there, sunshine?”

For the first time in a long time, I’m truly content. The internal noise inside my head is quiet, and I’m not concerned about sticking to a schedule, cleaning my house, or checking my work email. Marlow is teaching me by example how to live in the moment, and I’m grateful for it.

“I’ll buy you flowers every day, if it makes you happy.”

“See, I have this next-door neighbor who’s hot as fuck when she’s in her studio painting. It’s hypnotizing to watch her hips sway to the beat of the music with each stroke of her palette knife.” He gently wipes off a smudge of pink paint from my forehead and rubs it between his fingers as he speaks. “I’ve had this fantasy lately, involving a palette of paints and her being sprawled naked on the ground.”

“Such a pretty canvas. What am I going to do with you?”

Im not well🥵

He furrows his brow in concentration as he moves the brush to my chest, writing out words of affirmation as he whispers them one by one. “Beautiful… kind… strong… courageous…” He glances up at me when he draws out one more word. “Mine.”

DYLAN😩😩🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼

“You’re such a mess,” he murmurs. “A beautiful fucking mess.”

“Damn, you’re fucking drenched.” He lowers his mouth to my ear. “Does getting dirty turn you on, messy girl?”

“Dylan, I’m close,” I pant. “Beg for it, sunshine.” When I don’t respond fast enough, he slows down his pace, pushing into me in short, shallow strokes. I don’t miss his smug smile as I squirm against him, my body desperate for release. “Beg. For. It.” Another surge of arousal crashes through me at his demanding tone. “Please let me come, Dylan, please,” I whine, urgently needing a reprieve. “That’s my good girl,” he croons. He pounds into me without restraint.

I’m a fucking puddle

“Come, now.” Dylan’s command is irrefutable, and after a few strokes of my clit with his thumb, I detonate like a bomb. Tremors pulse through my body as my orgasm rips through me, and his guttural groan is a sign he’s found his release. “You’re a fucking masterpiece,” Dylan murmurs as he gazes down at me. “My masterpiece.”

“What happened to the other guy?” I can’t help but ask. “What other guy?” she says, seeming genuinely confused. “The one you told Dad you were dating.” “There wasn’t anyone else.” She gives me a mischievous grin. “I couldn’t wait around forever, so I had to give your father a little push in the right direction.”

She’s like the sun, and we’re all lucky enough to be in her orbit, basking in her warmth.