Lara snatched the computer away from me. “Maybe let’s focus on one thing at a time. You look like you’re about to hyperventilate.”

I couldn’t deny it. My chest was so tight that it hurt to breathe. “Okay, fine.”

“Now, what kind of job do you want?” Lara asked, her voice therapist-calm.

“Something better than the damn café.” I sniffed. “If I never smell coffee again, it’ll be too soon.”

“The hell you say,” Lara hissed. She was a coffee lover.

“Fine. Okay, for real, though. Maybe something with kids?”

“That’s good. You’re great with kids.” Lara typed furiously and then scanned the entries on the jobs website while I stared at the laptop screen. “Oh my God, I found the perfect one. You’re never going to believe it.”

She swiveled the screen around and I glanced at the listing. It was a full-time nanny position. A single father was hoping someone could become a live-in nanny for his twelve-month-old little girl.

“Live-in?” I read aloud.

“Isn’t it perfect?” Lara asked. “Room and board, and a job to boot. Like all your prayers have been answered. He wants someone nurturing and attentive, loving and patient. That’s you all day.”

“That’s nice of you to say.” I read over the description again, then my eyes widened when I reached the salary. It was more—much more, in fact—than I’d been making at the café. And with none of that money going toward rent . . .

“This is sort of a no-brainer, huh?” I asked.

Lara grinned, and I clicked on the listing’s e-mail address, hoping that this was exactly as perfect as it seemed.

Despite myself, excitement and hope bubbled up inside my chest, and I tapped away at the keyboard with a thrill of newfound energy.

Everything could be different.

All I needed to do was land this job . . .

Chapter Three

Max

Somehow I did it. I’d survived my first three nights alone with my daughter. My entire house was trashed and we’d eaten out for almost every meal, but hey, this was survival. Those restaurants with carry-out specials where you park in a designated spot and they bring your food out to you? Those were my new favorite thing.

I hadn’t slept much, my work had suffered, and it was all ten times harder and more overwhelming to take care of a small person than I ever imagined it would be. But I was alive and so was Dylan. That had to count for something, right?

Dylan was currently playing with a set of plastic measuring cups and spoons on the kitchen floor. We needed to go shopping. Groceries, toys—you name it, I probably needed it. But I didn’t want to fill my house with plastic junk she didn’t need. I wasn’t going to be one of those crazy helicopter parents. I was going to be a cool dad. I wanted to raise a little girl who knew how to use tools, not one who was obsessed with becoming a Disney princess.

The doorbell rang, and I could have dropped to my knees with joy at that moment. It meant Addison Lane, one of the nanny candidates, was here for her interview.

Surveying my living room, I inwardly groaned. It looked like an M-4 had detonated in here. Stray clothes, dirty dishes, and toys were scattered everywhere.

Shit.

Since it was too late to do anything about it, I pushed it from my brain and picked up Dylan from where she was playing on the floor to go and answer the door.

I wasn’t a religious man, but when my hand met the doorknob, I paused just before pulling it open and said a silent prayer. Dear God, please let her be nice and normal and have a deep, unending love for children. Her résumé and qualifications were stellar, so it was going to come down to gut feeling today. If she was as sweet and nurturing as she’d been on the phone, she could have the job.

Pulling open the door, I looked out at the woman standing on my porch.

“Oh, hi,” the brunette said, turning to face me.

When she turned, I felt like I’d been punched in the chest. Desire swamped the air between us, and lust burned low in my groin. She was pretty—a girl-next-door type with high cheekbones, a full mouth, a lush and perky rack, wide brown eyes fringed in black lashes, and curves to the moon and back.

Fuckity fuck. This was not a good start.

“You have such a beautiful piece of property,” she said, twisting her hands in front of her.

I looked at the yard, admiring the view, trying to take a moment to cool myself down. The property was the whole reason I chose to build here when I moved back home after leaving the military. Something about it felt serene to me, the way the huge old oak and pecan trees in the yard sheltered the house from the road, and moss grew in the shade beneath them, but I was surprised she felt the same way. Most people didn’t even notice, or at least they didn’t comment on it.

“I’m sorry. How rude of me not to introduce myself. I babble when I get nervous. I’m Addison.”

She was nervous? I thought I was the only one with a heart jackhammering out of my chest.

I stuck out my hand and shook her delicate one. “Max Alexander. And this is Dylan.”

Addison’s full lips pulled into a happy grin. Dylan smiled back at her, waving her chubby fist in greeting.

Dammit. I should have closed the door in her face the second I saw her smoldering-hot curves. Or maybe I should have included in the ad that I would only consider candidates with at least two hairy moles on their face. As it was, though, I’d done neither, and was therefore forced to watch the silent bond forming between this gorgeous stranger and my daughter.

It happened in the space of an instant. So quickly that, if I hadn’t been looking, I might have missed it. But now there was no denying it. Both of Dylan’s arms were outstretched, and she was gurgling for a chance to get a closer look.

And, frankly, so was I.

Addison glanced at me, and I noticed that she had a dimple in her right cheek to match Dylan’s. Still grinning, she motioned to the baby. “Do you mind if we get acquainted?”

“Not at all.” I shook my head and took a step inside, ushering her into the foyer.

Addison swooped in, expertly transferring Dylan from my arms to her own, and that singular instant of skin-on-skin contact was enough to make my cock stand up at attention. I opened my mouth to ask her a question, but before I got the chance, she was sinking to the floor, letting Dylan down to sit in front of her.

“Hi, little miss.” Addison waved her hand again, and when Dylan gripped her finger, shaking it happily, she cooed, “You’re awfully friendly, aren’t you?”

Was she? I racked my brain, trying to remember if Dylan had acted this way with anyone else she’d come into contact with in the past few days. I couldn’t remember her crying when strangers addressed her, but she’d never begged to be held by them either.

“So, tell me about her,” Addison said, craning her neck to look up at me. I was painfully aware that, from this angle, I could see straight down the front of her shirt, enough to see the lush curve of her skin and the top of her lacy pink bra.

I sank to my knees next to them to keep from perving out on my potential nanny even more.

Truthfully, I had no idea what to fucking say, so I just winged it. “Well, I’m trying to raise her to be independent. I don’t want her dreaming about finding some white knight to take care of her. I want her to be practical and strong in her own right.”

Addison nodded, and a strand of silky brown hair fell in front of her face. “That’s so great. What sort of things does she like to do? Go to the park? Listen to stories at bedtime?”

I opened my mouth and closed it again, my mind blank. In three days, I’d learned how to soothe Dylan’s temper and how to change her diaper. I’d finally come to recognize when she was hungry and when she needed to sleep, but in terms of her personality . . . well, that sort of thing took time.

And time was the one thing we hadn’t had together. At least, not until now.

“How about we focus on the particulars of the job first?” I asked.

Addison frowned slightly, her cheeks reddening, but she nodded again. “Sure, sounds good.”

She giggled as Dylan blew a spit bubble at her, and I forced myself to focus on the task at hand.