Series: Series by Ker Dukey
Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“No such thing,” he teases, and I smack him playfully until I remember what caused the coughing fit in the first place.
“Did you say nanny?”
Taking my coffee mug, he places it on the counter. “Yes, Mrs. Potts comes highly recommended and she’s already bonding well with Roza. You’ll like her. She’s a very nice woman.”
Do I want a nanny?
“Isn't that something we should have done together?” I ask, voice slightly shrill.
Pushing a finger through the belt loop in my jeans, he tugs me toward him. “Usually absolutely, but in this instance, you took off for three days without warning, so I made the decision and like most of my decisions, it was a good one.”
Can’t really argue with that even if my mouth opens to do just that. He pinches my lips closed and kisses the tip of my nose. “Just give her a chance, love.”
He rolls his eyes when he sees my lips move.
“Why do we need a nanny? There are three parents,” I argue because that’s what I do.
His shoulders sag on a sigh. “Because we have businesses to run. We hoped you’d want to get involved with the club.”
“You want me to work there?” I ask, surprise coloring my voice.
His thumb lazily strokes over the sliver of flesh above my jeans. “We want you to do whatever you want there. Just be a part of it. Help us make it great. Build on our legacy with us, the three of us.” His eyes search mine.
My heart swells, and I swallow past the emotion clogging my throat. I nod enthusiastically. “I’d love to do that.”
“Good.” He kisses me one last time and then laces his fingers with mine, gently coaxing me to the dining room.
A gray-haired woman is encouraging Roza to eat her fruit and counting the strawberry pieces as she does. My baby girl smiles up at her, and I automatically like the woman. There’s a gentleness in her eyes.
“Mrs. Potts, please meet Roza’s wonderful mother. Like I told you, she was out of town on business, and has just returned home.”
My hand strokes down Roza’s curls, and I bend to snuggle and kiss her neck, making her giggle. “I missed you,” I tell her before meeting Mrs. Potts’ eyes and taking her extended hand.
“It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Vetrov,” she says sweetly, and my stomach flips at the name choice.
“Alyona, please,” I say, casting my eyes to Z, who grins from ear to ear.
“Alyona, it is. My name is Jane. I’ve asked your husband to call me Jane, but he’s such a gentleman.” She shakes her head, and her smile reaches her eyes, crinkling around the edges.
Yeah, Z does that to women of all ages, and men, too. No one is unaffected.
“Roza and I were thinking of going for a swim after breakfast if that’s okay with you, Mom?” she asks.
Roza loves the pool. “Sure. I’ll get her into her swimsuit and life jacket.”
Jane waves a hand, her forehead creasing. “No need. I can do that. You enjoy your breakfast.”
I raise a brow to Z, and he tilts his head toward the kitchen.
I’ve always been a hands-on mom. The only person who helped look after Roza was Rosetta once a month, but other than that, Jeremiah believed raising babies was the woman’s duty, so having two men who are so besotted and active in parenting has been wonderful. Now add in Mrs. Potts, and I may be able to pee alone more often.
“I’ve made pancakes,” Z whispers against my ear and taps my butt with the spatula I didn’t notice he was holding.
“I’ll join you in the pool after breakfast,” I tell Mrs. Potts.
“That would be lovely. Usually, I get to know all parents before taking up a position, but Mr. Vetrov was very persuasive when he asked that I start right away.”
I bet he was. Z usually gets what he wants.
Bending to kiss my baby once more, I follow Z back through to the kitchen and grab a pancake from the stack he’s made.
“You just get better and better,” I say, devouring the deliciousness.
“You’re supposed to put them on a plate and add toppings,” he admonishes playfully.
“Where is Rodion?” I ask, looking around like he will pop out of a cupboard.
“He left to go to a meeting with our father.” He looks over his shoulder to ensure Mrs. Potts is out of earshot. “With the biker gangs who use Adam’s company to ship drugs all over the country.”
My appetite vanishes and a knot forms in my gut. “Is that safe for them to go alone? Where’s Ven?” I’d heard the Sins of Eve were worse than the cartel, beheading people, and leaving their bodies hanging from bridges when they got crossed.
Z bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing, like the actual worry is amusing to him. “Are you joking, love? You know who we are right?”