The Nanny Affair

Good Night, Miss Hadley

Pulling up to the house thirty-five minutes later, I parked in the front, wanting to be able to haul my items right up the stairs without too much extra traveling.

I heard the door creak open, and a long low whistle sound as my head was stuck inside the back, gently removing bags from the haphazard mountain I had constructed.

"You sure don't pack light, do ya?" Granny's scratchy voice greeted me from the top of the stairs. "Well, I guess you'll be needing some help. Let me get one of the boys."

She spun on her heel, the words of protest dying in my throat. "That's really not necessary..."

I didn't need the help. I didn't want the help. I honestly didn't want ANYONE to see how much I had wedged between the seats. A little hiccup of panic rose in my belly.

Smoothing my hair back, I picked up one box and one bag, charging up the porch steps. Right as I was about to reach for the doorknob, two shirtless guys that looked about my age opened the door, stepping out of the house followed by a nagging Granny.

"You see her car, hop to it!" She was hollering, holding her signature spatula at her side. "These youngun's don't know the meaning of manners sometimes. You best be prepared. You're moving in with a bunch of hicks."

The two boys smiled and guffawed, punching each other lightly as Granny scolded them. "Naw, Granny. We're happy to help, especially when it includes the new nanny." The tallest of the two said. He was leaning against the shorter, his eyes roaming over me. I shifted, uncomfortable under his stare. They must be starved for female attention up here.

"Excuse my brother, he's an i***t. But my name is Branson, and if there is anything you need while you're here, you just ask me. OK, miss?" He shot his brother a scalding look before bounding down the stairs.

"You can ask me anythang you want, sugar. I'd be happy to help you. My name's Griffith. I'm the funny one, Branson there's the uptight one that doesn't like to have fun. And let me tell you when it comes to fun--"

"That's about enough of that, mister. Get your ass down there and unload her car like I said!" Granny took her spatula, whapping him on the arm. "Git!"

She swung her gaze to me, heaving a huge sigh. "You might be making a mess of trouble being up here. Might just be an interesting summer." She shot me a wry smile, her wild gray strands winking at me as they floated on the breeze. "Come on, I'll walk you up. And I'll probably help supervise, too."

Laughing, I trailed behind her up to my room, sharing simple pleasantries with her along the way. "Yeah, Ashley said you'd be a good fit in the family. I figured I'd be stupid to argue, but I think he might've been right. There's something 'bout you that I have taken a liking to." She pinched my elbow, then walked to the windows to open them up and bring in the sunshine.

"This house has seen more than it's fair share of sadness, I'm afraid. Ever since Jess left, the whole mood of this place has been one that just, I don't know, sucks the joy out of everything." With her spatula still in hand, she swatted at the curtains, knocking particles of dust out the window. "The good thing about you being here is that those boys will finally have a sense of structure. I tried for a while, but I really don't have the strength or patience anymore. I'm getting old. I was ready to retire a long time ago, but this body keeps going." She looked out at the landscape for a moment. My window had a perfect view of the pasture that ran on for acres and acres before it hit a grove of trees.

"Did you know my husband was the one that built this whole thing up?" She asked me quietly.

I shook my head. "I don't know much about anything around here, save what I've read on the internet."

Granny nodded her head. "So you know Jess is in LA, flaunting herself like the selfish, narcissistic heifer she is instead of being here raising her kids and taking care of my grandson. That suits." She snarled her top lip, a fierce pucker settling her mouth. "My Bobby told him when they first got together to not settle down with her. She had stars in her eyes, but Ashley was always gonna come back here. She was just too selfish to let him go, and he was too dumb to wise up." She was rifling through one of the closets, collecting sheets. She placed a few of them on the bed, shaking them out, releasing the trapped dust.

"Does Mrs. Wilder ever come home? For holidays...or?" I looked to Granny, wondering what to expect.

She shook her head. "No, once Jess was gone, she was never coming back. Ashley went after her at first, begging her to come back and be a family. But she wouldn't have it. Mav was just eighteen months old at the time. I swear I coulda strangled her."

I listened intently, not trying to give away my insatiable curiosity about the man of the house.

"I guess she tried for as long as she could," Granny rambled on. "Her best effort was just... most people's bare minimum, if you know what I mean?"

I nodded again, choosing to stay silent. I didn't need to make a voice for myself just yet when I still didn't have most of the facts.

"Well, listen to me talking on and on while you've got stuff to do. Those boys should be up here any minute now with all of your luggage." She patted me on the shoulder, and I listened until I heard her feet all the way down the hall.

"Good mercy in the morning," I whispered to myself. I picked up some of my underwear, ready to shove them in the nearest drawer. "These people are crazy!"

"That's true. I guess we are."

I froze in place, a wad of panties in my hand. Ashley was just inside the door, a half smile teasing the side of his mouth.

Hurriedly moving to hide my cotton briefs behind my back, I felt all of the blood drain from my face. "Mr. Wilder. I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."

Oh. My. Gosh. He's going to fire me now. I've done it.

He laughed. "Don't worry none, Hadley. Granny will probably tell you a lot more than that this next week without prompting." He stuck his thumbs in his pockets. "I hope that won't be an issue, you getting to know us so...intimately, and all." His eyebrows were raised, that smirk still in place.

"Oh, no!" I rushed, bringing my hands forward to emphasize how OK I was going to be. "It'll be just fine!"

I saw Ashley's eyes widen just slightly as he took into account what I was holding in my hand.

What I forgot I was holding in my hand.

The panties.

The mix of cotton whities, and red lace thongs.

I stood there, hoping that the floor would open and swallow me up.

"Well," Ashley said, clearing his throat and finding the situation all the more amusing. "I'm thinking you've got some things to take care of. I was just letting you know that I've got the boys with me today, so we'll be seeing you at dinner."

Carefully lowering my hands to the bed, I simply nodded.

His gaze lingered on me a minute longer, and I wondered if he had something else he wished to say. I felt my heart pumping, the clench in my stomach intensifying as I returned his stare. Finally prying his eyes away from mine, he began to whistle. Throwing me a sneaky wink before turning on his heel, he walked out the door.

Dear God, What have I gotten myself into??

                                                                         ♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

I had mostly unpacked my entire life into the bedroom upstairs, noticing every tiny detail that existed on that floor to belong to the absent Mrs. Wilder.

It was intimidating, to be surrounded by her essence. I thought about what he had mentioned, and changing pieces of the room, just so that I didn't feel so trapped by her style. Not that it wasn't pretty... but just so that I didn't feel like I was under her thumb in some weird way.

"Dinner's ready!" I heard Granny shout from the downstairs.

Checking my reflection in the mirror, I fluffed my dark strands that I had caught into a wispy braid. I guess that'll do, I told my reflection.

Picking my way down the stairs, I slowed when I caught sight of the great room. It was larger than all of the tiny rooms in my apartment combined. There were antler chandeliers that hung down from the second floor, brown cedar planks that reached into the vaulted ceiling, stuffed plaid couches, and a fireplace that extended all the way past the chandeliers into what I assumed was the third floor.

I was still standing there gazing up at it when I felt a presence next to me.

"It's something, in't it?" Ashley's deep rumble reverberated off the furniture. "This was my favorite room as a kid, and I guess as an adult, it's still my favorite room." He stood there with me, both of our eyes cast up to the rafters watching the sun play off of the lights in the fixtures.

"What made you like it so much?" I asked, nervous to look in his direction.

"Oh, I guess it'd be my grandpa. He always chose to sit in here and relax of the evenings. He had this checkered board somewhere, and we'd play chess, sometimes checkers, and other things, just because he always wanted to spend time with his family." He shrugged his broad shoulders, the white crisp button up a stark contrast to his deeply tanned skin.

"I could picture you in here, I think, as a kid." I smiled at him. "A baby lumberjack wielding his axe to whittle his own toys."

"Could you, now?" He asked, his eyes sparkling as he jerked his head to look down at me. "What else do you think you could picture me doing, Miss Hadley?" His body had leaned forward to ask me, his breath breezing past my face.

Unsure how to answer, I could feel my mouth stammering, trying to conjure a reply.

"Let's go!" Granny yelled in the next room.

"You can tell me later," Ashley winked at me.

I waited for him to exit the room, sure that my heart was beating so loudly that the entire house could hear me. There were lots of things that I could picture him doing, and the thought made my face flame.

Oh yes. Lots of things.

Circling around the staircase to make my way into the kitchen, I was surprised at how many men were stacked into the room, sitting behind their plates as Granny served the meal. "Hold your plate up if you want this pork loin! I'm not bending over!"

There was an empty spot at the end of the table, seated directly between Ashley, Maverick, and August.

"Here, Hadley." Ashley patted the seat.

"You sit next to me!" Maverick beamed, his tiny face covered in ketchup and milk.

"Yes I will!" I answered him, reaching for a napkin to wipe his face. He grabbed my hand while I was trying to wipe him down. "I wike you, Hadwee."

Melting, I lowered to his level. "I like you too, Mav."

His smile only stayed for a moment. "No touching my face!"

Laughing, I grabbed the napkin back from him, continuing my process. "I'll only touch it for another second, and then you can go back to eating."

I heard Ashley clear his throat, "Mav you don't tell Miss Hadley what to do, understood? She's the boss hoss now. You listen to what she has to say, no exceptions." His eyes were boring into Mav's, and I saw the four-year-old's chin jut up before replying.

"Yes sur."

It felt like the entire table had turned to watch the exchange. Smiling politely at the few men who had dared to make eye contact with me, I turned my attentions to my plate, ready for tonight to be over already.

"He'll get used to you being here and listening soon enough." Ashley had bent to whisper to me. "He's just not, you know, used to a lady telling him what to do."

I nodded, using my food as an intended distraction to not pay attention to how close Ashley's and my body were. His long legs had nowhere to go, and his knee kept bumping mine. I was trying to pull away at first, but as soon as I realized he didn't consider it an inconvenience to touch me, I didn't either.

We were finishing up, and I was helping Granny clear the places when I felt Ashley stand behind me. "Hey, let the boys help Granny tonight. I want to talk to you."

Nervous, I choked a gulp, apologizing to Granny who only smiled as I followed Ashley out of the room. His long stride was a challenge for me to keep up with, easily three of my steps to every one of his.

Leading us back into the great room, he motioned for me to take a seat on one of the couches. He stepped over to a silver cart, picking up a decanter filled with a brown liquid. "Would you like a drink?" Without waiting for a reply, he poured the second glass, joining me on the couch.

Handing me the tumbler, he took his first small sip. I lifted the cup to my nose, wary to try anything alcoholic. I was a terrible lightweight and didn't want to embarrass myself in front of him.

"Try it," he nudged. "It's the best Tennessee Whiskey around."

I smiled, hesitantly bringing it to my lips. Tasting the strong but sweet substance, I let it slide down my tongue and hit my belly.

I must've made a face, because in the next second he was asking me, "Not much of a drinker?"

"No," I answered truthfully. "Never really have been. I don't have the taste buds for it." I joked, instantly regretting it. I brought the cup to my lips, downing the rest of the contents.

He chuckled, bringing his cup to his lips for another sip. "That's a shame."

"I just, never tried to be a drinker, if that makes sense. School was always first. That, and I don't hold it very well." I cautiously brought the rim to my lips again, enjoying the Indian Summer sunset we were experiencing through the panes of glass on the wall.

He was up, refilling my glass and his. I watched him with appreciation from across the room.

"This room is beautiful with the sun reflecting off of all of the surfaces like this." I mentioned, twisting to see how warm the room looked. I was turning back when I saw him staring at me, his directness taking my breath away momentarily. He knew I was looking back, and yet, he didn't turn away.

"I wanted to go over some rules for the boys, if that's all right with you," He started, his voice rumbling in it's low timbre. How was it that he was always so close to me? Was he actually, or was I just hyper aware of him? And how he smelled, and how he looked, and...

Oh crap. He handed me my cup.

The blazing fire started behind my eyes. I took another sip.

I was drunk. No turning back now.

"Yeah," I replied. "Tell me what you need to. Boundaries. Limits. Rules." I fought the urge to lean over, the relaxation of the brown potion doing what it was supposed to.

"I don't have many, just three." He cleared his throat. "I don't let them eat a lot of sugar anything. Those boys would be wild as coons if I let them have more than I give them. Think "rations." More than a pinch is too much," he smiled to himself.

I smiled back, thinking that he just might be the prettiest human I'd ever seen.

"Second, I don't like them to have much screen time. They don't seem to have a problem with this, they'd rather be outside than in, and that's how I'd prefer it to stay."

I nodded, trying to keep my balance from moving my head up and down too forcefully.

"Hadley, are you OK?" I heard his voice from a distance, the warmth in my eyes spreading down my body, resting in my stomach and legs. How had I drunk the whole glass? I didn't even remember sipping the last bit?

"I'm fyine. So fyine. Lick I sad. I don't drunk mutch, so this is a nu exper-exper-experience for me." I tried to keep the hiccup down, but I heard it, like I was having an out-of-body experience.

"Oh my gawd, I think I need to leave." I stated, hoping the words came out of my mouth the way they were supposed to. I stood, hoping that my legs would do their job and take me to the top of the stairs.

"Lordy, you really don't drink much do you?" He was laughing, and I could feel his hands coming to support me on either side. My legs were giving way, and I could feel myself sliding back down to the cushions. 

"Let's get you upstairs. I'll remember not to let you in the secret stash in the future," he heehawed, picking me up from my place and throwing me over his shoulder.

I felt like a rag doll in his arms, completely undone as he hauled me up to my room effortlessly. He marched me down the long hallway, opening my door, and carefully lowering us as he took me across the threshold.

"Here we go," he was whispering as he gently laid me on top of my pillows. Propping my head up, he moved the hairs away from my face, covering my legs and torso with the throw from the bottom of the bed.

I felt his hand come back, and in the haze, I could have sworn that he had let his fingers trail across my cheekbone. I wasn't sure of anything anymore, just that I was so comfortable in this big giant bed.

"Good night, Miss Hadley." 

{Thank you for reading this far into The Nanny Affair! For more from J.L. Smith, check out Don't Call Me Fat, Billionaire Fight Club: Fight of My Life, & Taking Down the Alpha King}