Total pages in book: 248
Estimated words: 236036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1180(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 787(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1180(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 787(@300wpm)
She glanced at Kiwi, her koala stuffie, the one who went with her on every new assignment. She’d fallen in love with Kiwi the first time she’d seen her. It wasn’t every day you saw a neon pink, purple, yellow, and green koala. She’d known right away that Kiwi wasn’t your typical koala, just like she wasn’t a typical Little.
“Did you see me take a wrong turn and not tell me?” she asked Kiwi.
Kiwi said nothing, of course, but she could tell by the look in her stuffie’s eyes that she didn’t appreciate Sage’s tone of accusation.
Glancing back at her friend, Sage tried to make amends. “All right, all right. I’m sorry, but I’m just worried. Are you worried?”
Unfortunately, because she was looking at Kiwi, she didn’t notice the pothole in the dirt road. Her car leapt like a jackrabbit, causing Sage to hold on to the wheel for dear life. Kiwi bounced in time with the rugged road, which Sage did her best not to interpret as a nod.
“What’s that?” Sage pretended to hear Kiwi say. “You want to sing the adventure song again?”
Sage tried not to think about the fact that “adventuring” was her word for lost. She really didn’t have time to be lost right now. She scowled at the endless dirt road stretching out before her, silently vowing not to let it get the best of her.
All those stories about people following their GPS and disappearing forever swam through her mind. Maybe she should go back and get better directions.
She was about to turn around when a two-story wooden ranch home came into view. As she got closer, she took in its condition. The long front porch needed a new railing and a coat of paint. She paused. Well, it was very, uh… rustic.
Then again–with a new coat of paint and a good weeding of the flowerbeds–rustic could become charming. With the Pinterest skills she had spent years cultivating, she was perfect for the task.
Besides, who was she to be judgy? At least the people who lived here had a home to call their own. That was more than anyone could say for her. She’d moved out of her parents’ house when she’d graduated from college. With the Haven Agency sending her from family to family, she hadn’t had time to find a place of her own.
If the Haven Nannies placement agency thought she could handle it, she wasn’t about to argue. So what if eight other nannies had come and gone over the past two years. They probably hadn’t seen it as the opportunity it was.
She wasn’t like those other women. She was different. And not just because she had a degree and training as a homeschool nanny. Sure, she knew how to assess and tailor curriculum for students in special circumstances. No, she was different because she’d lived in Wilder for years. She would live there forever if she had her way. Wilder had helped her discover who she really was.
Before she’d moved to Wilder, she’d thought Littles and Daddies were just something you read about in books. It was through those books that she’d recognized herself. In Wilder, she could live the lifestyle she enjoyed. Of course, there was the small matter of actually having a Daddy, but she had faith that would come one day as well.
But there were plenty of other reasons she was the best choice as a nanny to help Rose Kane through her battle with selective mutism. Just because Sage was in dire need of the salary and was the only one who would accept the assignment meant nothing.
Oh my God, what have I done?
Was it too late to turn around? No, that was silly. Sage parked in front of the house, killed the engine, and hopped out. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down her favorite sundress, the bright yellow one with tiny white daisies, and adjusted the messy bun on top of her head.
Just stay calm, she coached herself. You are cheerful, capable, and completely unafraid. Mr. Grady Kane won’t know what hit him.
The front door opened before she even reached the porch.
Holy hell.
Nothing could have prepared her for the man who walked out of the house. He was a giant, all height and broad shoulders with rippling muscles that proved he was no “gentleman rancher” but spent every day working his ranch. Dark-haired and strong-jawed, he had forest-green eyes that looked straight through her. It was like he’d just walked out of one of her Daddy books.
Her pussy clenched, and something delicious crawled across her bottom at the sight of his faded blue work shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms. Holy Hannah’s teacups, if she could have designed her own personal Daddy, this guy was it.
It was all she could do not to touch her hair or straighten her blouse. She would not let herself succumb to those nervous tics. He stared at her like she was some living puzzle. Or maybe a bug specimen under a microscope. Had no one notified him she was coming?