 by S.E. Law.jpg)
Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Brad: My babysitter’s filled with fire and I love it. Paisley hates watching me drag a woman upstairs by the hair before making loud, noisy love in my bedroom. She hates having to listen to the moans and growls, and she ESPECIALLY hates when my paramour reappears in the bedroom door, limping painfully with her hair askew and clothes torn (in a good way of course). But I know what my not-so-innocent babysitter really wants … Paisley wants a turn in my bed for herself, and I’m only too happy to give it to her!
This is a follow-up to My Best Friend’s Stepdad. This is a crazy story where nothing is as it seems because our heroine also has a slutty best friend, a scheming identical twin sister, and of course, her attraction to Mr. Landry to battle! But never fear, all turns out well in the end because this not-so-innocent babysitter gets what she deserves in the arms of her Prince Charming… and loves every second of it! No cheating, no cliffhangers, and always a HEA for my readers.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
Paisley
“Are you sleepy, sweetheart?” I ask before pressing a kiss to my small charge’s forehead. Tatum nods solemnly, her big blue eyes already drooping with fatigue.
“Yes, Paisley,” she lisps. “Thank you for tucking me in. Will Daddy be home soon?”
I nod.
“He will, sweetheart, but not before you fall asleep. You have me tonight, okay? I’ll be right down the hall, and if you need anything, just call.”
The little blonde angel nods again, already beginning to doze off.
“Love you, Pais,” she lisps once more as her big blue eyes shut, her long blonde lashes resting on those chubby baby cheeks. I gently press another kiss to her forehead before tiptoeing to the door and whispering, “Love you too.” Then, I make my exit, careful not to let the door hinge squeak. The darn thing has a habit of doing that sometimes, and the last thing I want is for Tatum to be disturbed right when she’s drifting off to Never-Never Land.
After all, we had a busy night. After spending some time playing in the yard, Tatum came inside for fish sticks for dinner, in addition to crazy carrots and some big-girl peas. Then, the little girl went for her bath (which meant there was water all over the bathroom floor), but I finally got her scrubbed and into her adorable unicorn PJs. Then, there was story time, which consisted of reading her the latest Bedtime for Biscuit book five times in a row. I begged Tatum to choose another one just for some variety, but the little girl held firm. It was Biscuit the Dog or nobody.
But now, Tatum’s safe and sound in bed, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. Even though it’s only been a few hours, babysitting for a five year old can be exhausting! As a result, I make my way to the living room and sink down on the couch in a boneless heap. Goodness, I’m practically being swallowed by this brown monster with its huge cushions, but then again, it probably cost in the tens of thousands of dollars.
After all, Mr. Landry is extraordinarily wealthy. I don’t know what he does, exactly, except that I know he’s in finance. For all I know, he could be buying and selling companies left and right, or he could be laundering money for Russian oligarchs. He’s never told me what he does, and I haven’t presumed to ask.
What I do know, however, is that this townhouse is the epitome of luxury. It’s a five-story double-wide set in the toniest part of the Upper East Side, and the interior is a decorator’s dream. The design is understated in a subtle, luxe way with plenty of earth-tone shades, as well as deep maroon drapes, huge couches upholstered in velvety suede, and a dining table big enough to seat sixteen. Plus, the kitchen is a chef’s dream come true. There are two ovens in case you decide to bake two treats at once, as well as top of the line stainless steel appliances and a kitchen island that really shouldn’t be called an island. It looks more like a floating continent made entirely of white Calacatta marble.
Even crazier, Mr. Landry and Tatum live here alone, as far as I can tell. A lot of townhouses in NYC have been sub-divided so that each floor is a separate apartment, but not this one. There must be at least ten thousand square feet of space for only two people, and one of those two people is only five years old! By contrast, when I was five, I was sharing a tiny room with my twin sister, Pamela, in our family’s duplex. That thing felt like it was made of particle board because on windy days, the walls would literally shake. Sometimes, I wonder if the structure was even up to code.
But a home is more about the people you love, than the physical form of a house itself. As a result, Pamela and I had a comfortable upbringing and didn’t realize we were part of the so-called “working class” until high school. Both Pammie and I were admitted as scholarship students to a toney New Jersey private school, and it was only then that we encountered the trappings of true luxury. Quite a few of the other girls had diamond jewelry despite being only fifteen, and I was confused by that at first.
“Aren’t engagement rings only worn when you’re engaged?” I whispered to my sister after Caroline Negrini strolled by with a five carat stunner on her hand. “I thought that’s when people splurged on diamonds.”
Pammie’s eyes widened as she caught sight of the huge sparkler, and she licked her lips with envy.
“I don’t know,” my sister confessed in a low voice to me. “But I definitely wish I had one of those.”