Page 14 of Nanny for the Firefighters
Under Marcus's watchful gaze, I interact with Lily, playing peek-a-boo and making silly faces, which earns me bubbly laughs and coos. Her delight feels like tiny victories in a field where I'd once felt only defeat.
To my surprise, the beginnings of this job— if I get it— starts feeling less like an interview and more like a reintroduction to a part of myself I'd thought was lost—my ease with children, the genuine connections that had nothing to do with their parents' wealth or expectations.
"You're quite good at this," Marcus finally says, a note of approval in his tone that makes me want to punch the air in triumph. But I settle for a modest shrug and a quip.
"I've had a bit of practice with temperamental clients. None quite as cute as Lily here, though."
The room fills with soft laughter from the observing firefighters, their earlier reserve melting away in the warmth of the moment. It's then I realize not only am I winning Lily over, but perhaps the crew as well.
As I pass Lily back to Marcus, her small fingers linger on mine, reluctant to break the connection. It's a good sign, a hopeful one.
"Let me show you around," says Marcus after gently putting Lily down and extending a large hand to me. I allow him to take my palm. A pebble of goosebumps erupts on my spine as he leads me around his home. Everything is stunning, but my mind is too preoccupied to notice the aesthetic around me.
God, how is it that all the men here are so evidently gorgeous? Not just that, but they seem like they are genuinely nice.
Marcus, in particular, is regarding me like a big cat zeroing in on its unsuspecting prey. Tonight, he's casually lethal in fitted jeans and a simple tee that clings just right to his muscles, muscles that clearly come with a disclaimer. Handle with care, might cause heart palpitations.
"You've come at a very opportune time." His voice is that low rumble, the kind that might as well be a sonic boom in the quiet of the firehouse.
I muster my best nonchalant smile. "So has your offer," I manage, hoping my voice doesn't betray the way my stomach does somersaults under his gaze. Why does he have to look like every heroic firefighter calendar come to life?
He nods, those deep brown eyes locking onto mine, making me feel like he's peering into my very soul. "Good, I'm glad." There's a slight pause.
"Are you liking it thus far?"
My heart decides it's a great time to audition for a drum solo as I stand there, trying to look composed while internally, I'm drafting a flirty response. Unfortunately, my brain fails to deliver.
Instead, what slips out is, "Yep, just enjoying the ambiance. And the view's not bad either." I gesture vaguely around the room, then realize it might sound like I'm talking about him. Which I totally am, but he doesn't need to know that.
He chuckles, a sound that rumbles pleasantly and makes me wonder about the acoustic properties of his chest. "Glad to hear it. You fit right in with the chaos here."
I remind myself to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Don't be weird.
Note to self. Next time you chat up a guy who looks like a Greek god, maybe prepare some witty banter that doesn't sound like it's straight out of a bad rom-com.
"I have one more test for you," he admits with a crooked little smile that does unfair things to my heart.
I should say something super intelligent, but instead, I muster a nod. It'll have to suffice.
The dining room buzzes with activity as Marcus sets down the final test—a food test. Lily, in her high chair, eyes a spoonful of mashed peas with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. I can't blame her. Peas wouldn't be my first choice, either.
"Alright, Lily, let's make this fun," I declare, loading a small spoon with the green goop. The idea is simple but daunting. Get the food into the baby, not on the baby—or me, or the floor.
I bring the spoon toward her mouth, making airplane noises. Lily watches, amused, her mouth opening just enough to let the spoon in. "Success!" I exclaim as the first spoonful goes in… and stays in. This might be easier than I thought.
But as the meal progresses, Lily decides to up the challenge. The next spoonful gets a face, and with a decisive wave of her tiny hand, peas splatter across the tray. "Oh, no, Lily, we were doing so well!" I laugh, wiping down the tray as she giggles, clearly proud of her handiwork.
"Seems you've got the magic touch, Ella," Theo comments from the doorway, his arms crossed as he watches the spectacle with amusement.
"Magic, or just really fast reflexes," I reply, dodging another pea swipe. By the end of the meal, Lily is mostly fed, and I'm only partially decorated with green spots. I count it as a win.
"Looks like you passed," Marcus announces with a grin, making it official. I'm hired.
Later that evening, after Lily is tucked in and sound asleep, the mood shifts to celebration. Theo, having declared himself the chef of the evening, dons an apron and commandeers the kitchen. The smells wafting through the house are enough to make anyone's stomach rumble in anticipation.
"Hope you guys are ready for my specialty—spaghetti carbonara with a side of garlic bread," Theo announces as he serves up heaping plates for everyone.
We gather around the dining table, the earlier formalities replaced by a relaxed camaraderie. Plates are passed, wine is poured, and the room fills with the clinking of glasses and laughter.