Loving the Babysitter

By: Cassandra Dee

ABOUT THE BOOK




She was good with kids, and the alpha male wanted more babies.

I’ve known Mandy Smith for years now, ever since she started coming over to babysit my daughter. Back then, Mandy was a gangly teen with buckteeth and braces, someone I barely noticed. But something’s changed since she was away at college.

The braces came off.

The brunette got contacts.

And holy hell, but the girl developed curves!

Because I’ve been divorced for years now, and my gorgeous babysitter would be the perfect mommy for more children – our children!





DEDICATION



For everyone who’s ever loved someone off-limits.





CHAPTER ONE


Mandy




My ancient Accord puttered into the driveway of the Parkers’ house, coming to a grinding halt, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d made it. My car hadn’t broken down and I’d made it all the way to my next job. Because I hadn’t babysat for the Parkers in months now, and the money would definitely be useful with tuition due soon.

But as I got my bearings, another sigh escaped me because driveway probably wasn’t even the right word to describe the gravel road. It was a huge, circular rotunda, the kind that you could imagine an army of horses and carriages pulling up to, with a butler answering the door, stiff-lipped with a tray of drinks. And in addition to the huge, stone mansion, there were vast grounds, a beautifully landscaped garden, plus an infinity pool that I could glimpse just around the corner, the water peaceful and smooth in the winter light.

So yeah, the Parkers lived like kings. And even though we’re technically neighbors in the same gated community, my parents are in the modest portion, with medium-sized homes and small yards, whereas my employers lived up the hill in the extravagant millionaires’ section. But what the hell, I was here for a job and little Violet was the cutest thing, a spunky ball of fire. I couldn’t wait to see her again, those flaxen curls, the baby blues that could melt your heart. Even when she was a terror, the tiny blonde was still adorable, a small whirlwind of energy that could make any adult smile and sigh with exasperation at once.

So switching off the ignition, I stepped out of my battered car before carefully walking up the steps to knock on the big door. Just a couple months ago, I would have bounded up the steps like a streak of lightning, athletic and thin as a whip. But I’ve changed these past couple months, and where I used to be rangy and gristly, now I had curves. There was no more tearing up the stairs like a girl on fire, there was too much bounce and flesh, too much sweet heft. So I walked like a lady, hips swaying, trying to keep things decent.

But total silence greeted me after ringing the doorbell. Weird, that was strange. After another minute, I rang the bell again. Maybe they were all upstairs and couldn’t hear? But then some scuffling noises sounded, some bumps, and finally the door opened, revealing Mr. Parker.

I smiled shyly, trying not to show my nervousness because Mr. Parker’s always been gorgeous and this time was no exception. The big male was huge and dark, filling up the doorway, making me feel positively tiny, teacup-sized. Of course I’d always noticed, but seeing him again only confirmed his hotness. Coal-colored hair and blue eyes so intense they positively seared my frame. Plus, he had body to die for as well, none of that flabby dad-bod stuff. Broad shoulders tapered to a trim waist, with long, powerful legs clad in dress pants.

“Oh hey Mandy,” he rumbled. “So sorry, we’re a little … Violet, stop!” he called out.

And as we stood there, a giant wail rang out, making Mr. Parker grimace a bit.

“Come in, come in,” he ground out, exasperated, taking a deep breath. “It’s been a long day.”

And even though my heart was pumping from his nearness, I made myself smile and step into the foyer. This, I definitely remembered. The space was huge, all marble floors with a giant chandelier swinging over our heads.

“Where’s Violet?” I asked tentatively, trying to look nonchalant.

Mr. Parker took another deep sigh. Come to think of it, he was worn around the edges, there were brackets around his deep blue eyes that hadn’t been there before and his laugh lines were a little more prominent. Must have been his job, I knew he worked in finance doing something, what I wasn’t exactly sure.

“Violet,” he called out again, one hand on the bannister. “Come down please, your favorite person is here.”

And the patter of small footsteps sounded before a tiny blonde bundle hurtled down the stairs into my arms.

“Mandy, Mandy,” cried the five year-old. “You’re here!”

The little girl was such a sweetheart. Despite today being a regular day and not a holiday, she had on a purple ballerina dress, complete with stiff tutu and a glittery crown on her head.

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