Xander, p.1
Xander, page 1
Xander
Octavia Jensen
Published by Flower Bone Publishing, 2024.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
XANDER
First edition. January 8, 2024.
Copyright © 2024 Octavia Jensen.
Written by Octavia Jensen.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Content Advisory:
Prologue: The Interview
Chapter One: The First Day
Chapter Two: The Dinner
Chapter Three: The Almost Fake Date
Chapter Four: The Little Brother’s Advice
Chapter Five: The Ice Bird
Chapter Six: The Pictures
Chapter Seven: The Spanked Mint
Chapter Eight: The Moves Like Jagger
Chapter Nine: The Match Dilemma
Chapter Ten: The Eleventh Wheel
Chapter Eleven: The Fight
Chapter Twelve: The Icing on the Cake
Epilogue: Four Years Later
INTERESTED IN MORE OF THE MARINO CREW? CHECK OUT:
About the Author
To everyone who ever feared it was too late for them, or even too early.It's not. Your time is coming.
Content Advisory:
This book is very mild in terms of triggers, though I should point out that the reason he’s a single dad is because the mother walked out on them both the moment Sofia was born. If parental abandonment is a trigger for you, please skip this one. Other than that, this is a cute little single dad/nanny romance with an HEA. Oh, and there’s a hint of a breeding kink.
Prologue: The Interview
Xander
I’ve interviewed twelve nannies the past two weeks and not one of them has felt like a good fit. One of them had the audacity to ask for permission to spank my three-month-old, and then called me a “crazy helicopter parent” when I told her to get the fuck out of my face. I don’t care how old-school most of these people claim to be, no one will ever put a hand on my daughter, or one of my siblings is going to have to bail me out of jail.
I’m exhausted now though, because my older sister Callie — my current babysitter — is thirty-eight weeks pregnant and days away from going into labor. I’m out of time, but the thought of settling on something like this makes me fucking nauseous. I just want the best for Sofia, and as much as I know no one will ever compare to me or my siblings, I don’t have a choice but to find someone that will mesh well with our little two-person family.
Leland Carlisle is the youngest person I’ve interviewed since I started searching, but the little bit of information I have on her is promising. She might only be twenty-two, but she helped raise her two little brothers while her mom worked to support them, and seeing as my siblings all had to help raise each other after our parents passed away, I can’t help but to feel a connection to her on paper. It also helps that she’s also currently certified in first aid, CPR, and early childhood education. Of course I’m hesitant with her being young, but at least I won’t have to worry about some old lady trying to raise my daughter the way her boomer parents raised her.
Some shit should stay in the damn past.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, half expecting it to be Leland saying she can’t make it or something, but as usual, it ends up being my stupid younger brother.
Adrian: She hot?
Me: Do you ever get tired of asking me that question? None of them are hot, and even if one was, I wouldn’t notice. This isn’t about that.
Adrian: She isn’t there yet, huh?
Idiot.
Me: No.
He sends back a smiley face that makes me roll my eyes, and then leaves me alone when I threaten to tell his girlfriend to kick his ass for me. Reagan is the only woman I’ve ever seen my brother give two shits about, and because of that, I know his weak spot.
All thoughts of them leave my mind when a young brunette with huge glasses walks in the diner though, because although she’s in some loose-fitting jeans and a hoodie at least two sizes too big, her smile is absolutely stunning. I don’t know why this catches my attention, it really is the last thing I need to be focusing on when Leland can walk through the door at any moment, but it takes all my willpower to force my gaze away and not walk over and tell her I want my hoodie back. It would be a lame attempt at a pickup line anyway... damn, I really am rusty.
Once I find the right nanny for Sofia, I should probably get back out there and find my social life again. Why the fuck am I thinking about this? More importantly, why is the gorgeous hoodie girl now walking over to me looking like she’s nervous? I can’t flirt with her. I’m waiting — oh fuck. No. please don’t be —
“Mr. Marino?”
Fuck me.
“Leland?” I ask, standing like the gentleman my mom would want me to be as I take her hand. Her soft, slender palm rubs against my dry, callused one as she nods, and I let go abruptly to wave for her to take a seat across from me. “Nice to meet you. You can just call me Xander.” Her brown eyes are huge behind those lenses, and I have to force my gaze back to the paper I have on the table so I don’t think about them. “Are you a big Steelers fan?”
What the fuck does her hoodie have to do with this interview? Get your head in the game, Marino.
“Oh. Um... I wouldn’t say that. My dad always made me watch the games, but I haven’t really kept up since I moved out.” She blushes as she flicks her eyes down to the stack of papers in front of me. “You’re not a Browns fan, are you?”
“No,” I say with a chuckle. “My brother and I have watched the Eagles together since we were kids, so although I’m not as die hard as he is, I’m still an Eagles fan. Steelers are fine though, long as you’re not coming over in Cowboy merch and influencing my daughter, we’re good.” Get on the subject. “Speaking of brothers, you said you have two of them? Is there a big age difference?”
The smile she gives me is blinding. “Yeah. My mom had me when she was seventeen and then had my brothers in her early thirties. They’re six and seven now.”
“So you have experience with babies. That’s good. Sofia is only three months old, so there will be a lot of diapers, but at least you don’t have to dodge pee like you do with baby boys.”
Was that a joke? What is wrong with me?
It makes her laugh, so maybe it wasn’t all bad. “I think I can handle it. Is she being breastfed or bottle fed?”
That question only reminds me that her mother left. Breastfeeding isn’t something I could ever do for her, but regardless of how she’s fed, she’s loved, and she is thriving. “Bottle. Her mother isn’t in the picture at all, so it’s our only option. Do you have experience with formula?”
To her credit, Leland doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes. I’m a little relieved, honestly. My brothers never let me feed them, so I think this will be easier. What hours do you need someone?”
I like her enthusiasm. She already sounds so sure that she has the job, and maybe she fucking does. She hasn’t scared me away yet. “So I work five to two, and like to leave around four in the morning to avoid traffic. I know that’s early as hell, but most days you’ll have a couple of hours before she wakes up hungry.”
“That’s not much earlier than I wake up now, to be honest. What do you do for work?”
To say I’m relieved is an understatement. Everyone else I know hates the mornings. “I’m a sheet metal supervisor for a fabrication company. I started when I was eighteen and realized quickly I like working with my hands, so I just worked my way up the ladder. Did you go to Blackridge?”
Her eyes flick down to my hands for the briefest of moments, but it’s enough to have her licking her lips quickly and snapping her gaze back up to my face. Maybe she wasn’t turned off by my rough hands after all. “What? Oh, um... yes, but I dropped out after my pre-reqs. I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do, and then I became a full-time nanny for my neighbor and she told me to get my early childhood education certification.”
“Guess that worked out for the both of us.” If I hire her, which I might not. Who am I kidding? “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but how early could you start if I were to offer you the position?”
“Tomorrow, sir. I’m not gonna lie. I’m actually a little desperate for work right now,” she admits. “I know you’re not supposed to say that in an interview, but I think it speaks to how hard I’m willing to work. You’ll always come home to a hot meal, a clean house, and a happy baby.”
Fuck me, I don’t even know where to begin. If the “sir” didn’t just make my dick twitch under the table, the “hot meal” sure as hell did. Fuck, now I have the world’s most inappropriate boner and I have to fight the urge to ask her if she’s the hot meal.
Happy baby. Yes, that is what’s important.
“I — well, alright. I’d be an idiot not to take you up on that offer. Would you be able to come by today and meet her? She’s at my sister’s house, but I can give you my address and meet you there after I grab her.”
“Of course!” There’s that blinding smile again as she stands and waits for me to do the same, but I fucking can’t.
“Just give me a second. I’ll call my sister and tell her to have her ready.”
Callie the boner-killer helps the second she complains about her cervix hurting from the baby, so I stand up a moment later and try not to notice how much taller I am than Leland. She’d be so damn easy to lift. “Oka
“Perfect. I’ll... see you then.” Rocking up on her toes, she grins and then takes off for the door, stopping when she gets there. “Wait, you have my number, right? Of course you do, you called me. Okay. Bye.”
She spins so fast her long brown hair whips behind her, and even a blind man couldn’t fight the urge to check out her ass. Unluckily for me, the hoodie blocks it entirely, making me have to do a walk of shame all the way to my black Lexus.
This might be a horrible idea, but I can’t fight the feeling that Leland may end up being everything Sofia and I need.
I just hope they click as well as we just did.
Chapter One: The First Day
Leland
It’s normal to hyperventilate before your first day at a new job, right? Totally, completely normal, and not crazy at all? I hope so, because the chilly October air is catching in my throat and making it way harder to breathe than it needs to be.
My client is a three-month-old baby. It’s not that serious. Who cares that I’m walking up the front steps of a stranger’s gorgeous grey house in the middle of the night?
Oh right, I do, and so do all the people who have always told me not to get in the van. This is like that, but bigger, and the man holding the candy is insanely hot.
Like... insanely, make-me-act-like-a-fool hot.
Here goes nothing.
Steeling my nerve, I knock on the door and bounce on my heels as I wait for him to open it. I’m a half hour early, so I shouldn’t be surprised that he takes a moment to answer, or that he looks stunningly disheveled like he just rolled out of bed. “I’m so sorry,” I rush out in a whisper. “I can come back or wait in the driveway or—”
“No,” he rushes out, a desperate look in his eyes that tells me he probably didn’t sleep much last night. “I mean... please come in. She — I don’t know what I did, but Sofia is pissed at me tonight.”
He steps aside to let me in as he tries to flatten his hair, but I wish he wouldn’t. Flustered is a good look on him.
Now that I’m inside, I can hear her fussing, so I drop my bag near the door and slip off my shoes before rushing up the stairs.
He wasn’t kidding. The adorable little potato is mad. “Aww, sweetie,” I soothe, stepping in to pick her up out of her bassinet. “What’s wrong, pretty girl?”
“She was fine at bedtime last night, but then she woke up every single hour from midnight on. I checked her temperature, I burped her, fed her, changed her, I even fell asleep on the floor with my arm in her crib.” He rolls his shoulder like it hurts, and waves a hand at the baby blanket and teddy bear on the floor. If I had to guess, he used that teddy as a pillow. “She didn’t even care when I begged her to go to sleep — not even the lullabies helped.”
But she’s calming now. In just the few minutes that he was talking to me, her noises have lowered to small whimpers, and she reaches out to run her hands through my hair like she likes it.
“Keep talking,” I whisper to him. “I think between my hair and your voice, we have a winner.”
“Keep talking?” he repeats sleepily. “Uh, alright. Should I tell a story? Or like the plot of Transformers?” Sofia wails before I can give him an answer and he rushes closer with his hands raised. “Okay, sorry, mamas. You want me to talk, I’ll talk. Uh, did I tell you about the time Uncle Adrian got stuck in a tree? He was like eleven, and we went to the park near our house. I told him not to climb it because the branches were so far apart, but he insisted he could do it. He was hardheaded and denied being stuck for almost two hours, and then he cried and blamed me for it. We had to call the fire department.”
She’s still a little too young to laugh, but I’m not. All I can picture is a stubborn little boy refusing to stay out of trees, and it reminds me of my youngest brother, Caleb. Sofia tugs my hair but lets out a happier sound for once as her eyes droop, so I nod to encourage Xander to keep talking as I lay her down to swaddle her.
“Keep going?” He scratches his head and takes a seat on the floor as I gently glide my finger down Sofia’s nose. “I’ll tell a story about Uncle Leo. When he was in middle school or something, he started realizing that he didn’t like girls. But he didn’t want anyone to know, so he paid his friend Lyla his lunch money to pretend to be his girlfriend. We all knew, I mean, I was like nine and I could tell he was way more interested in Callie’s things than Gio’s things, but I didn’t understand why. Well, one day, our aunt had some guys come over to do our lawn for us, and one wasn’t wearing a shirt. Leo turned to us with this dopey-ass smile as he said, ‘Lyla’s not my girlfriend. I’m gay.’ and then just walked off like he did some sort of mic drop. Literally no one was surprised.”
I’m grinning now, I can’t help it. It doesn’t hurt that Sofia is sound asleep, so I stop stroking her nose and slowly put my finger to my lips.
A moment later, we’re out in the hallway and Xander is way too close to me for comfort. He smells too good, looks too good. “I’m sorry you don’t have time to take a nap,” I offer to distract myself. “Next time, just shoot me a text and I can come earlier.”
“I can’t do that to you. Especially when you’re still adjusting. I don’t know if I even want to go to work. You think she’s sick or something?”
The concern on his face breaks my heart, so I squeeze his arm to offer a little comfort. “Babies are just fussy, Mr. Marino. She didn’t feel warm or anything, so I’m sure she’s fine... but are you? It’s okay to take time off for yourself.”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” His light eyes drop to my hand as a small smile changes his face entirely. “Thank you, Leland. Do you promise to call me if something happens?”
“Of course.” I seem to just now realize that I’m still grabbing his arm, so I let go quickly and back up a step to give us both space. “Do you have nanny cams set up so you can check on her at work?”
“Oh shit, yeah. I should have let you know prior. I have them in every room, and they’re connected to my phone. I can talk to her in the bassinet from the one in there.”
It’s so cute, I’m not even a little bit upset. “It’s okay. I’m glad you do. Hopefully, it’ll give you a little peace of mind until you get more comfortable with me. Everything’s okay, Mr. Marino.”
The fact that he hugs me completely takes my breath away. I’m so stunned I stand there frozen with my arms and eyes wide, but he lets go abruptly with an embarrassed chuckle. “Sorry. You can blame that on the tiny human that didn’t allow me to sleep. I think I’m delirious. I have to go get dressed.”
He turns away to run to his room, leaving his scent in my lungs and my sanity somewhere on the floor.
I cannot be attracted to him like this. It’s like the beginning of every terrible porno ever made, or a really bad joke. I can’t have a crush on him. I need this job. I can’t do this.
Panicking just a little, I turn in a circle trying to figure out where to go. Sofia’s room isn’t a good idea, but do I go be awkward in the kitchen or the living room?
Kitchen. Coffee. Be useful.
Exhaling hard, I head downstairs to the kitchen, start a pot of coffee, and root through his cupboards until I find a travel mug that looks big enough. I just manage to get the lid on it for him when I hear him rounding the corner, so I ask, “Do you want some sugar?”
“Coffee? You’re amazing, Leland. Seriously.” He relaxes a little more and gives me an opportunity to check out his outfit as he enters the kitchen to grab his lunchbox. He’s in black cargo work pants with padded knees, and an orange long-sleeved shirt with reflective strips on the arms. Everything down to his steel-toe boots screams that he’s a man that works with his hands just as he stated. “No sugar, just the mocha creamer in the fridge. Thank you.”
It takes me about four seconds too long to pull my eyes away from him and find the fridge. It’s right in front of me, but how am I supposed to focus on anything but how good he looks? This is cruel, and I’m an idiot.
Shaking it off, I fix his coffee and hand it to him with a smile I hope he doesn’t find creepy. “Do you pack your lunch?”
“Yeah, I normally pack it before bed since I’m such a zombie in the mornings. Coffee helps.” He smiles back at me. “You’re welcome to eat, drink, use anything you want, alright? Make yourself at home and I’ll call you on my lunch.”
