The Naughty, The Nice and The Nanny (Holiday Brothers, #1)

by Willa Nash

Fourteen-year-old me died a little inside. Her fantasy that one day Maddox Holiday would realize she was the love of his life went poof like a tuft of snow in the wind.

She wore a red tutu and matching glitter slippers. In one hand, she held a wooden spoon. In the other, a butcher’s knife. “You must be Violet,” I said. The angel.

Violet was a tutu-toting terrorist, but there was no way in hell a seven-year-old girl was going to best me.

I was patient in many ways, but when it came to gifts and orgasms, I preferred instant gratification.

“Don’t even think about it. She’s mine.” The claim blurted from my mouth before my brain could engage.

“Actually, you’re the only one in the room who I want to talk to. So I thought maybe you could entertain me.”

“What are you looking at?” Mom asked, coming to stand by my side at the front window. “The snow,” I lied. She laughed. “Sure, son. If snow is how you think of Natalie.” “If you knew, why ask?” “Because I’m your mother and forcing you to squirm is one of my job descriptions.”