Nanny for the SEALs by Cassie Cole

31

Heather

“So let me get this straight,” Maurice whispered. “You have three sexy Army hunks. And I have none.”

“They’re Navy SEALs. Not Army.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “Same treat, different wrapping paper.”

We were at Mr. Howard’s acting class. He had broken us up into pairs to practice reading lines from the movie Indecent Proposal, which neither Maurice or I had seen. So instead, I was catching him up on everything that had happened.

“This settles it,” Maurice said dramatically. “There is no God. Jesus is a fraud! You stumble your way into the arms of three gorgeous hunks, and Maurice Wittman has nobody.”

“What about the cook from work?” I asked.

“He’s just a cuddly bear. But I’m bored with him now. You got better toys for Christmas, and now I want to play with them too!”

“I promise to ask if they have a gay SEAL friend who can storm your beaches.”

He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. “That’s all I ask, sweetie.”

After class, I met with Mr. Howard individually. He immediately greeted me with a question: “How was your audition for the commercial?”

“It… went okay,” I said. “I haven’t heard back yet.”

He looked at me with dramatic disappointment. “You are my star, Heather Hart. And yet you are distracted. What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, Mr. Howard,” I said. I did feel bad about disappointing him so much. “I have a new job. It’s taking up most of my time.”

“You need to focus on your career. What’s more important to you: this new job, or acting?”

“Well… Kind of both,” I admitted. “I’m nannying for these guys who run a private security company. They have lots of connections. They promised to hook me up with people in the industry. I might be able to skip commercials and go straight to bigger roles.”

He gave me skeptical eye-roll. “Let me tell you a secret about Hollywood: lots of promises are made, but very rarely are they kept. And besides, there are no shortcuts in this town. The industry rarely allows someone to slingshot ahead. Unless you’re the daughter of a famous director.” He coughed discreetly into his hand and muttered: “Bryce Dallas Howard.”

Then he leaned across the desk. “I’m working on finding other roles for you. In the mean time, keep your fingers crossed about that last audition.”

I faked a smile as I left the office. I knew I had bombed that audition and wouldn’t get a call-back.

Brady’s sister, Patty, was watching the children while I was at acting class. I climbed the stairs to the residence and could hear the boys shrieking inside. I opened the door and found Dustin and Micah pummeling each other with pillows while Patty shouted at them to stop. Nearby, Cora was quietly reading to herself.

I groaned internally at the sight. I was gone for two hours and everything went to hell.

“Miss Heather!” Micah shouted when he saw me. Both boys dropped their pillows and ran over to hug my legs. “We missed you!”

I’m surprised to hear that, since Aunt Patty is letting you act wild, I thought. But I was trying to be a nice person today, so I smiled at Patty and asked, “Thanks for stepping in while I was at class.”

Patty had the same curly black hair as Brady, the same Boston accent, and she even had the same lighthearted chuckle. “No problem. It wasn’t hard at all. The boys were great.”

At first, I thought she was being sarcastic. But she was dead serious.

“They were much better than last week. I can already tell you’re having a good influence on them! Brady should’ve hired you years ago.”

I ruffled Dustin’s and Micah’s hair. “I wish they had too. Then I wouldn’t have had to work at Outback.”

“What’s Outback?!” Dustin demanded.

“That’s where we play baseball,” Micah said. “Out back, behind the office.”

“Outback is so fatty. The Bloomin’ Onion is, like, a billion calories.” Patty shook her head and asked me, “I’m serious about the boys. I was reluctant to fill-in today, but they were so good today! What’s your secret?”

“The schedule and star system has been a big help,” I explained. “Everything stems from that.”

Patty glared at the boys. “I tried bribing them with candy plenty of times before. It never worked.”

Because it has to be a consistent system, I thought to myself. I didn’t say it out loud because I was just happy that she was willing to fill-in whenever I was gone.

“I guess I have that magic charm,” I said diplomatically.

“I like that. Magic charm.” She grabbed her purse and pointed at me on the way out. “Next you ought to try training Brady. I bet you could nail down his behavior real quick.”

“I bet you’re right,” I said with a knowing smile.

I played with the kids for ten minutes—a game which consisted of putting the couch cushions back where they belonged, and then picking up all the colored pencils from the kitchen floor—and then put them down for their naps.

With the residence finally quiet, I grabbed a string cheese packet from the fridge and wolfed it down. I had been too busy to get lunch, so I reached for the big bucket of snacks. Mr. Howard’s words echoed in my head: Every pound you put on is a role you’ll lose to a skinnier actor. I frowned, put the big bucket back, and got a piece of chocolate from the small one instead.

Being a woman sucked sometimes.

A door opened down the hall. I prepared myself to scold one of the triplets for breaking nap time, but it was Brady who wandered into the kitchen rubbing his eyes.

“Oh. I didn’t realize you were here,” I said.

“Catching up on sleep after watching Amirah’s place all night,” he replied. “I was wiped out.”

“That’s tough. I hope you slept well, despite the kids making all that noise?”

“I can sleep like a baby anywhere. A trick I picked up in the Navy.” He grinned at me. “I had some creative dreams. Me and Asher were with this insanely beautiful woman. We did some real filthy things to her.”

“She was beautiful, huh?” I asked with a smile.

“Oh yeah. Long blonde hair. Kissable lips.” He reached behind himself and grabbed his butt with both hands. “She had an ass that really popped, you know?”

“Aaand you ruined it.”

“Would I un-ruin it if I kissed you?” Brady hesitated. “Am I allowed to kiss you? I don’t know how this works.”

“I don’t know either,” I said. “But I will happily take a kiss.”

I yelped as Brady dipped me low, giving me a passionate kiss while holding me nearly parallel to the ground. Then, with easy strength, he pulled me back up to a standing position.

“It’s awfully quiet in here,” Brady said. “If the kids are napping, maybe we have enough time for…” He raised his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

I gave him a playful shove. “Maybe later. I wanted to talk to Rogan first. Mind keeping an ear out for the kids while I’m downstairs?”

Brady opened the fridge and gazed inside. “No problem. But hurry back. You’ve got me thinking naughty thoughts, nanny.”

I giggled and went downstairs to the office. I hadn’t been here since Rogan gave me a brief tour on the first day. It was big enough to hold two dozen employees, but was just occupied by the three dads. They each had an office around the exterior, with a big conference room in the middle. The rest was open space that could be filled with cubicles.

That was the thing about private security: nobody needed to be in the office except the guys running things. And even that could be done from anywhere.

I passed Asher’s office first. He was seated at his desk, with a grid of computer monitors in front of him.

“Knock knock,” I said, rather than actually knocking.

He swiveled in his chair, then grinned at me from behind his glasses. “Heather. This is a pleasant surprise.”

“I came down to talk to Rogan.” I gestured at the screens of data. “What’s all that?”

“Social media account information. IP data, routing information, and details on the device it was connected to. I’m trying to track down the social media accounts that have been threatening Amirah Pratt.”

“Any luck?”

He pursed his lips in thought. “I’ve narrowed down the source location for the accounts. They were all created in Southern California, but their traffic was routed through VPNs to make them look like they came from all over the place. France, Turkey, Hawaii.”

“Why would they do that?” I asked. “If they threatened Amirah directly, it stands to reason they would be here in Los Angeles, where they could make good on their threats. So why make it seem like it’s coming from elsewhere?”

“I don’t know yet. But I’m hoping to find out.”

“What about the knife?” I asked, pointing at the weapon on the desk. It was in a zip-lock baggy. “Did that lead you anywhere?”

“We grabbed two fingerprints off it, but they aren’t a match for anyone in the criminal database. I submitted a request to the American and British military databases, but I doubt they’ll respond. They’re always careful about protecting their own. We turned over the information to the police in case they get a hit in the future. Otherwise, it’s a dead-end.” He stretched and looked at his watch. “I need to eat something. I forgot about lunch.”

“I did the same thing.”

He smiled at me, then looked bashful for smiling. “I, um, worked up an appetite last night.”

I couldn’t help but grin at his boyish cuteness. “Me too. The kids are napping right now, so try not to make any noise.”

“Not a peep.” He held his finger to his lips.

He looked like he wanted to kiss me, and I was about to take the initiative and do it myself, but then he dipped his head and left his office.

I need to get you to come out of your shell, I thought. One step at a time.

Rogan was in his office two doors down. He smiled wearily when he saw me. “Not often you venture down here.”

“Brady’s watching the kids while they nap. Got a minute?”

“I’d love to be distracted.” He got up, hugged me, and then sat on the edge of his big mahogany desk next to a vase of orange daffodils. “I’ve been on the phone all day. Word is spreading about the attempt on Amirah’s life. Our other clients are upset, so I’ve been doing damage control.”

“Damage control? But you stopped it,” I said. “Shouldn’t they be praising you?”

“If only the world worked the way it should,” he said bitterly. “Everyone is alarmed the gunman was able to get that far into the property. Our clients pay us to discover and neutralize threats long before it gets to that point. Yeah, I stopped the guy, but only by a few seconds. That’s still a failure.”

“Fuck that,” I said, slapping the desk with my palm for emphasis. “You saved someone’s life last night. I’m proud of you, even if nobody else is.”

“Thank you.” He kissed my forehead. “Amirah is grateful, too. These flowers were from her.” He gestured at the daffodils.

A flare of annoyance climbed up my gut. “Oh.”

Rogan raised an eyebrow. “Is that jealousy I detect?”

“No.”

“They’re only flowers. And you said it yourself: I saved her life.”

“That doesn’t mean she has to get all blah about it,” I muttered.

“I’m not interested in Amirah. I’m interested in another woman.”

“Uh huh,” I said doubtfully.

“The woman I like is much prettier,” he murmured into my hair. “And she’s absolutely adorable when she’s jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” I said, resisting the urge to accidentally knock the flowers off the desk. “But speaking of jealousy, I came down here to tell you something.”

The tone in my voice must have alerted him, because he pulled away and crossed his arms. “What’s up?”

“Last night, you told me to do something. So I took you up on it.” I gathered my courage. Why was this so hard so say out loud? “Last night I slept with Brady and Asher.”

Rogan blinked with surprise. Then shock. It was the last thing I wanted to see, and my stomach sank.

“You slept with both of them?”

“You suggested it!” I shot back. “It was totally your idea.”

“I meant sleep with one of them. I didn’t mean to suggest a threesome.” He chuckled to himself. “It doesn’t matter, though. That’s funny. Did you know they had a threesome with a woman a while back, before shipping out one time?”

“They… They told me about that,” I said cautiously. His attitude had changed.

“Asher still gets embarrassed when we bring it up,” Rogan said amiably. “He’s going to turn three shades of red when I bring this up.”

“He just went upstairs to get lunch,” I said. “You can tease him later. Are you really okay with this?”

“Of course I am. Like you said: I suggested it.” He took me in his arms again. “I’m not the possessive type. Not with Asher and Brady, at least. That’s the thing about our weird little family: we have to share everything. We share children, we share meals, we share a workspace, we share vacations.” He sighed and stared off. “Actually, we haven’t been on a vacation since we had the triplets. There’s never any time, and the business needs too much care. Man, I would really love to carve out some time to find a beach and sip cocktail drinks for a week, really de-stress while—”

“Rogan,” I said firmly. “You’re getting off-track. You can ramble about vacations another time.”

“Sorry. My sleep schedule is still off.” He sipped a mug of coffee, grimaced, and then continued. “Like I was saying, we share everything. And since I was fooling around with you at the hotel behind their backs, it’s only fair that they get a shot with you too.”

I glared up at him. “Get a shot with me? I’m not a toy Nerf gun to be shared among you guys. I don’t belong to any of you.”

Rogan raised a dark eyebrow. “Are you saying you didn’t have fun last night, then?”

“No.” I traced a circle in the carpet with my toe. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Good. Because I had a lot of fun cuddling with you.” He yawned. “I know it doesn’t look like it, but I slept great. As far as I’m concerned, this whole arrangement is working out perfectly. So long as it doesn’t affect the nannying of the triplets.”

I shook my head. “The two things are totally separate.”

“Good.” He looked over my shoulder and said, “Brady. Come here a second.”

Brady was walking by the office with a sandwich in his hand. He leaned against the door frame, took a bite, and said, “How ya doing?”

Rogan pointed a finger at him. “You fucked Heather. Didn’t you?”

Brady’s jaw fell so fast that a piece of lettuce fell out and hit the carpet. “What?”

“You and Asher slept with her last night. Didn’t you?”

“Asher said you were cool with it!” He pointed at me with the sandwich. “So did she!”

“Cool with it? I’m not cool with it.” Rogan took a step forward until he was in the other man’s face. I tensed, waiting for the brawl that was certain to happen.

But then Rogan wrapped him in a hug, clapping him on the back loudly. “I’m thrilled with it! I heard you had a threesome. Was it good?”

Brady’s eyes swung back and forth like it was a trap. “It was fucken awesome, yeah.”

“I can’t wait to ask Asher about it. He’s a blusher.”

Finally, Brady grinned. “You shoulda seen him last night while we were getting started. It looked like he had a sunburn.”

Rogan barked a laugh. “I bet!”

This is weird, I thought. Not only are they all cool with it, they’re chatting about it like it wasn’t a big deal.

“You sure you passed the concussion protocol?” Brady asked.

Rogan nodded. “I’ve gotten some much-needed perspective lately. I’m trying not to be so controlling.”

He smiled at me. I smiled back.

“Asher’s keeping an ear out for the kids while he eats lunch,” Brady said. “He told me he would stick around until you relieved him, Heather.”

“I’d better go do that, I guess.”

Rogan looked at his watch. “How long until they get up from their nap?”

“Maybe twenty minutes? It’s tough to tell since they’re kind of off their normal schedule.”

Rogan glanced at Brady. “Plenty of time. I think I’m starting to feel jealous about the fun you guys had last night.”

“Oh yeah?” Brady asked with a smile. “Threesome FOMO, huh?”

“FOMO?” I asked.

“Fear of missing out,” Rogan explained with his own wry grin. “And yeah. I feel like I missed out. If only there were a way to fix that in the next…” He glanced at his watch again. “Oh, twenty minutes or so.”

The two former SEALs grinned at each other, then turned their hungry gazes on me.