Marine for Hire (6 page)

After she’d bathed the twins and Sam had scrubbed the kitchen, she tucked the boys into their cribs. She was just patting Jackson’s back when Sam poked his head into the room.

“I think I’ll turn in a little early,” he said. “Big day tomorrow. For both of us, I guess. You’ve got your first day of work, and I’ve got my first full day alone with the little guys.”

Jeffrey gurgled happily in response, and Jackson batted at the mobile dangling over their cribs. Sheri smiled.

“They already know your voice,” she said. “They like you.”

“I like them.” He hesitated in the doorway, watching her, watching the twins. “You heard from your ex lately?”

She frowned. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Mac mentioned he’d been calling. Asked me to keep an eye out for him.”

“I’ve had a few voicemails from him. Stupid stuff about getting back together. I’m sure he’s just drunk dialing.”

“Let me know if you hear from him again, okay?”

“Why?”

“I’d just feel better knowing if he plans to show up here and see the boys. Or you.”

“I doubt it’ll come to that. Jonathan’s not one to follow through.” She frowned, wondering if she should be annoyed by the line of questioning. He sounded nosy, maybe even a little possessive, but she couldn’t seem to work up any real indignation about it. Besides, it was Sam’s home, too, at least for now.

She yawned, too tired to give any more thought to the matter. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”

“Sleep well.”

“You, too. Thanks for everything, Sam.”

“No problem. It’s my job.” He hesitated again. “It is a job, you know. I have to be careful about not crossing any lines or doing anything that might create an unprofessional environment or jeopardize our working relationship or—”

“I get it,” she interrupted, feeling her cheeks flush. She looked down at her babies so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes. “I won’t ask you any more questions about my butt.”

“Good.” He cleared his throat, hesitating again. “But since you already asked me that one, and since I did a pretty lousy job answering it, let me just state for the record that you have the most spectacular ass I’ve ever seen in my life.” He swallowed, then nodded. “I needed to put that out there in case there was any confusion.”

“I appreciate that,” she said, stifling the urge to giggle or smile or do anything else that would give her away as a wanton hussy instead of a demure, mild-mannered mother of two. “Thank you for clarifying.”

“If you could refrain from mentioning that to your brother, I’d appreciate it.”

“Noted.” She hid her smile behind her hand.

He nodded again. “Good night, Sheri.”

And with that, he wandered off down the hall.

…

Sleep didn’t come easily that night for Sheri.

She wanted to pretend it was the nervous jitters of starting a new job in the morning, but that was only part of it. She felt dizzy with the knowledge that Sam was sleeping just inches away through the thin walls painted apricot on his side and pale turquoise on hers.

How had that happened?

Not the wall colors, though that was odd, too. How had she come to be a single mother of twins with a gorgeous, sensitive, sexy man sleeping in another room instead of in her bed?

Not that she needed another macho guy in her bed. Jonathan had been plenty for one lifetime, thank you very much. There were times she wondered what she’d seen in him, but mostly she knew. Security. Strength. The familiarity of a big, strong military man who reminded her of her father, her mother, her brothers, her uncles, and pretty much every other member of the Patton family for as far back as Sheri could remember.

Not that there was anything wrong with the military, per se, but Jonathan had made her aware of a pattern. He, like so many of his friends, was a macho, knuckle-dragging jerk who cared more about climbing the ranks than climbing into bed with her and telling her she was smart or beautiful or that she made him see stars when they kissed.

Sam’s different,
whispered a tiny voice in her head.
And he’s not military.

Maybe so,
she whispered back.
But Sam is off-limits.

Right now, with a new job and new single motherhood, she needed a nanny, not a man. She needed him to do a job, not to do
her
. He was here to help her juggle it all—the career, the babies, the house—and she couldn’t risk a distraction that might cause one of them to drop the ball.

Of course, they had agreed this was a trial period. If Sam moved on in a couple weeks and she found a different nanny, maybe then she and Sam could—

Stop it!

She rolled over to adjust the baby monitor, hoping to hear the breathy little murmurs of her sons’ sleep sounds. Then she remembered Sam’s insistence that she leave it with him for the night.

“It’s your first day at your new job tomorrow,” he’d reminded her after dinner. “My whole job is centered around making it easier for you to be a working mother. If they need to be fed or changed in the middle of the night, it makes sense for me to handle it.”

She hadn’t argued, and she’d appreciated his foresight. But now she longed for the comfort of their sleepy little murmurs. Maybe she should just peek in on them…

She was out of bed and wrapping herself in her purple satin robe before she’d even completed the thought. She tiptoed down the tiled hallway, careful not to make any noises that could wake Sam or the babies.

Their bedroom smelled like baby shampoo and talcum powder, and she breathed it in, feeling calmer already. She took a few steps toward the cribs and peered down. Their little bodies were pressed close to the bars, and Jeffrey had reached through to curl his fingers around his brother’s big toe. Jackson slurped his fingers and made breathy little sounds in his sleep.

“You guys are the best,” she whispered softly, resisting the urge to touch them. No sense waking them up.

She watched them a few more moments before stepping away from the cribs. She turned and tiptoed toward the door, pivoting one last time to gaze at their little sleeping forms in the glow of the nightlight. Then she stepped into the hallway with her eyes still on the cribs, feeling her way along the wall.

A hand clapped over her mouth and Sheri struggled to scream as she collided with a solid wall of muscle.

Chapter Seven

Sam held Sheri still as he lowered his lips to her ear.

“It’s just me,” he whispered. “You ran into me before I could let you know I was here, and I didn’t want you to scream and wake the boys.”

She sagged against him, and he resisted the urge to savor the lush, slippery heat of her body pressed against his. He released her, and she stepped around him, moving out of the boys’ room and into the hall.

“Oh,” she gasped, reaching for the tie on her robe. Somehow it had come undone in the collision, and it took every ounce of strength he had not to steal a glimpse at what was underneath.

Fuck it. He wasn’t that strong. He looked down and saw an endless expanse of creamy skin. No nightie. No T-shirt. No sleep shorts. Just Sheri.

His heart throbbed hard. Among other things.

“Now I know,” he murmured.

“Know what?” she asked, cinching the waist belt on the robe and peering up at him in the darkness.

“Know what you sleep in.” He swallowed.

She let go of her robe and studied him, close enough that her breath grazed his chest. “That’s something you were wondering?”

He nodded, too dizzy to speak.

“You were in your bed thinking about me?” she whispered. There was something conflicted in her eyes, something uncertain.

But there was something heated there, too.

He gritted his teeth, knowing he should step back but unable to make his feet move. A small ghost of a smile crossed her face in the dim light, so faint he might’ve missed it.

But he didn’t miss the note of desire in her voice when she spoke again. “Dammit, I want you.”

Then she lunged for him.

He might’ve staggered if he hadn’t been braced for her. Instead, he moved back against the wall, letting the warm, smooth weight of her body press him back against the doorframe.

He hadn’t bothered with a shirt when he’d gotten up to check the boys, and he thanked the heavens for that now. He could feel every inch of her warm, lush flesh pressed against the front of the silky robe, the only thing separating him from all that beautiful nakedness.

“Kiss me,” she gasped, not waiting for a response. She arched up on tiptoes and found his lips with hers, kissing him with a dizzying heat that made Sam groan low in his throat.

He responded by sliding his hands over her hips and up, savoring the heat of her body beneath the smooth satin. His fingers traced every curve, trying to memorize her as he kissed her softly at first, then harder.

Sheri wriggled against him, her breasts pressing firmly into his chest. He could feel her nipples through the satin, and the minty taste of her mouth made him dizzy with need. His hands had continued their journey up her torso, and he found himself gripping her rib cage, feathering his thumbs over the undersides of her breasts.

“I shouldn’t do this,” she murmured, then did it again, kissing him harder as she pressed her body against his.

“God,” he whispered back, slipping one hand down to find the tie she’d just fastened. He gave it a tug and felt the material slip back, baring her shoulders. Sam reached up to brush the fabric back and broke their kiss to trail his lips over that warm, freckled curve. He kissed his way across the plane of her shoulders, dipping low above her collarbones until he came to the soft, fragrant hollow under her ear.

He was light-headed now, all the blood in his body having surged to his groin the instant she’d whispered,
I want you.

Sam groaned as her fingers danced over the front of his boxers. He could feel her grazing, stroking, squeezing until he thought he’d lose his mind.

He fought to remember why he wasn’t supposed to do this, fought harder to keep himself under control.

He wasn’t winning in either case. He moaned again and kissed her hard on that warm, soft mouth. Her breasts were full and tight pressed against his chest, and he swore he’d never felt anything so mind-blowingly soft in his life.

“You’re killing me,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “We shouldn’t—”

A plaintive cry from the next room stopped him from articulating whatever it was they shouldn’t do.

Not that it wasn’t clear to both of them.

She took a step back, blinking in the dim glow of the hallway night-light as she reached down to retie her robe. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me—”

“Not your fault,” he said. “I’ll handle the boys. Please. Go back to bed. You need your sleep.”

The look in her eyes told him that wasn’t all she needed. He felt the same way, but Mac’s words echoed in his head.

Keep your hands off my sister.

“Good night,” Sam whispered, and stepped away from her into the darkness of the tiny bedroom.

…

On her lunch break the next day, Sheri scurried out to a private spot on the beach near her office and dialed Kelli from her cell phone.

“I was hoping I’d hear from you!” Kelli yelled cheerfully over the cacophony of barking at her vet clinic. “How’s the first day at the new job?”

“Good. I just called home and Sam says the boys are doing well.”

“That’s a relief.”

She toed off her shoes and settled on a log, careful not to wrinkle her new skirt as she buried her toes in warm sand. “Look, there’s something I want to ask you.”

“Fire away. The bulldog who swallowed a sock isn’t due for another fifteen minutes.”

She bit her lip, not sure where to start. “That seminar you took a few years ago—the one about sexual harassment in the workplace?”

There was a long pause, followed by an exasperated groan. “Seriously? You’re being harassed on your first day of work?”

“No! Of course not. I was just wondering about the laws concerning sexual relationships between employers and employees and whether—”

“Oh my God, you slept with Sam!”

Sheri cringed and pulled the phone away from her face, then worried Kelli’s shouts might carry all the way to Hanalei even without the phone. She put the phone back to her ear and lowered her own voice.

“I didn’t sleep with Sam,” she insisted, surprised to find the corners of her mouth turning up in a smile. There was something deliciously naughty about saying the words aloud. “But I would have.”

“What on earth stopped you? Jesus, I had to restrain myself from jumping him on your front porch when he said hello.”

She rolled her eyes. “There are these two small people living in my house. Maybe you’ve met them? They tend to cry at the drop of a hat and wake up at the most inconvenient times—”

“Got it. Say no more. So the babies interrupted you before you could bump uglies with the manny, and now you’re wondering if you could be arrested?”

“Pretty much.” She picked up a piece of driftwood and began poking holes in the sand, wondering about the prospect of spending time behind bars for a few innocent kisses.

They weren’t that innocent.

Kelli laughed. “Unless you handcuffed him to the bed and groped him against his will, I think you’re okay.”

Sheri’s brain veered a little at that, and she caught herself picturing his massive hands shackled to either side of her headboard, his broad chest glistening with baby oil as she lowered herself onto his—

“No!” she said. “I didn’t handcuff him. But still, I’m his employer, and he’s my subordinate and I’ve been reading the PMRF staff handbook and it has all kinds of scary language about workplace relationships and sexual harassment and how to handle inappropriate fraternization. It has me worried.”

Kelli was quiet a moment, and Sheri pictured her at the vet clinic neutering a rottweiler with one hand while she gripped her phone with the other. Her friend was efficient like that.

“Didn’t your brother hire him?” Kelli asked.

“What?”

“Mac. I thought he hired Sam. And he said the other night that he’s the one paying him, not you. Doesn’t that make him your brother’s employee?”

“I guess.”

“So there’s no problem then. As long as Sam doesn’t nail your brother.”

“I don’t think there’s much risk of that.”

“Good. Because I’ve got dibs on Mac.”

She laughed and poked her stick into the sand again. “I suppose sexual harassment is the least of my concerns. God, I can’t believe I lunged at him like that. Can you think of anything dumber?”

“
Not
lunging at him?”

Sheri sighed. “Seriously, it’s a bad idea. I just moved here to take this job, and I’ve finally gotten my life together. The last thing I need is to screw everything up by—”

“Screwing the help?”

“Exactly.” She flipped the sand around with her stick, annoyed with herself for wanting him so badly. “God, I feel dumb.”

“Don’t. Abs like that would bring any woman to her knees. A convenient place to be, actually.”

“I can’t. I definitely can’t. I’m not going to sleep with my manny.” She winced at her own words, glancing around to make sure no one heard. There was a family about three hundred yards down the beach to the left, and some old guy with a fishing pole and a red-and-white-striped hat standing in the parking lot stuffing his tackle box into his truck. He looked up and gave her a friendly wave, and Sheri waved back, hoping her voice hadn’t traveled that far.

“No sex with the manny,” she insisted, ordering herself to comply. “End of story.”

“I don’t like stories with unhappy endings.”

“Neither do I, but I’ve already had one unhappy ending with Jonathan. I can’t risk another one.”

“Seems a shame to let that prime piece of man meat go to waste, but I get it.” There was some shuffling on the other end of the line, and a loud yowl that was either an angry tomcat or Kelli’s latest conquest. “I’ve gotta go. Call if you need anything. Or if Sam takes his shirt off around the house. I can be there in five minutes.”

“Thanks, Kel. Love you.”

She hung up the phone and plunged her stick deep into the sand, swirling it around a few more times for good measure.

“No sex with the manny,” she repeated, forcing herself to hear the words. “No matter what.”