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…

I’m greeted with a captivating combination of one blue and one green eye. She has a pert nose, full, inviting lips and her cheeks are flushed as she looks down at me. I’m struck by the thought that I’ve never met someone this uniquely beautiful.

“I looked Dylan Stafford up online. That man is a total DILF. Anyone who can pull off glasses like that deserves to be on the cover of GQ,” Gavin says.

God, why is she so damn pretty all the time? Even with paint on her face, she’s stunning…

Aside from his surly attitude, there is no denying that Dylan is attractive. He reminds me of a modern-day Clark Kent, with short black hair, chocolate brown eyes, a chiseled jawline, and his black-rimmed glasses. Not to mention he’s positively mouthwatering in a three-piece suit, although I wouldn’t admit that to anyone.

“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.”

“Are you checking me out?” I call Marlow out with a smirk. A blush creeps up her neck at my insinuation. “Of course not,” she rushes out as she looks away from me. “You’re practically walking around naked so it’s hard not to stare.” She deadpans. “I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable,” I say as I take a step toward her.

“Dylan, what are you doing?” she murmurs. “Thinking about what it would be like to kiss you,” I say softly. It’s not the first time. I imagine she tastes like strawberries and pink lemonade, sparking my curiosity to test my theory.

Good morning, sunshine, I hope you enjoy your breakfast. Have a great day. -Dylan

“What if I said you make me want to be a better person?”

“For the time being, let’s assume that whatever is going through your head is coming out of that beautiful mouth of yours.”

Your differences are what makes you so damn special.

“That’s a damn shame.” Dylan brushes his thumb across my cheek. “You should be reminded every day of how exceptional you are.”

“Good girl,” I praise.

“It’s alright. Your touch makes it better.”

“She’s just a girl who knows what she wants, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”

“Hey.” I press a kiss to her forehead, encouraging her to look at me. “We’re just two people who know what we want, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that,” I say, quoting her words from earlier.

“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.”

“Mark my words, Marlow Taylor, when we finally get a moment to ourselves, I’m going to do much more than kiss you.”

“Good girl,”

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

“Not until you come like my good girl,”

“That’s my girl,” I praise, with another kiss. “It’s safe to say that listening to you come is now one of my favorite sounds.”

“Underneath that grumpy exterior is a thoughtful man, willing to face any storm for the people he cares about,” she says in a hushed tone. “I understand that whatever is happening between the two of you is new, and you might not be ready to put a label on it yet. All I ask is that you be transparent with him about what you want… and what you don’t.”

“Be mine, sunshine? The only person I want to be with is you.”

“Such a good girl,”

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growls as he drives into me. “Oh god, Dylan.” “I can feel you clenching around my cock,” he pants out.

“Play with your clit like my good girl.”

“You shouldn’t have to wait. You deserve to be reminded of how exceptional you are every day.”

“No, you’re not,” I challenge. “You’re going to be a good girl and wait until I give you permission.” I give her an encouraging kiss on the lips.

“Damn, look at you taking my cock like such a good girl.”

“Damn, sunshine.” He squeezes me tighter. “I’ll buy you flowers every day, if it makes you happy.”

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

“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.

She’s my end game, and whatever challenges we face, we’ll navigate them together.

Dylan might think of me as the color in his life, but he’s the brushstroke and the canvas in mine.

“Dylan, I need you, please.” “Be my good girl and take what I give you.”