The Hacker (The Bro Series Book 2) Page 2

  It takes both of my parents a moment longer to break their stare and turn their attention to me.

  Mom smiles brightly. “You got the job?”

  “Of course she got the job. Have you ever known Meena not to?”

  A crooked smirk comes to my face. “He knew a great opportunity was knocking on his door.”

  And then coming on his fingers.

  “Besides, having worked for him in the past made his decision even easier. We had a good relationship then. I can only imagine it’ll be even better now that I’ve had more experience.” My thighs unconsciously drift closer together.

  Then it was strictly professional no questions asked. He was married. He was unavailable. Now? We’ll be doing more than your basic mixing business with pleasure. We’re going to meld until we create an all-consuming Helix that threatens to destroy us both.

  “I’m excited to be caring for his children. They feel like great kids. Lynk seems to have grown up pretty well. His soccer obsession will be easy for me to deal with since it’s quite similar to Marco’s.”

  “Is the other child also a boy?” Mom asks.

  “No. It’s a little a girl. Her name is Sage and she reminds me of when Mara was four. She has the same love for music correlation. My guess is if I can sing it, she can learn it.”

  My mom smiles yet my father less than subtly pressures, “All these nanny jobs are good preparation for when you decide to finally have your own.”

  I swallow the sadness slithering up my throat. He doesn’t know. Why would he? “It’ll be a live-in situation, like the others, so your guest room is all free once more.”

  He frowns his disapproval. “Married?”

  “Widowed.”

  “Thought you weren’t going to take any more single father jobs?” Mom questions quickly. “Thought you didn’t want to risk the rumors again.”

  “This is an exception.”

  The definition of Holden Reiss. He’s the only man I’ve ever met that gets my pulse racing, and unknowingly begs me to reconsider the carefree lifestyle I’ve cultivated.

  “And, people are going to talk, mom. It’s what they do. I don’t have to listen if I don’t want too. He’s not like the others I’ve been nannying for. He doesn’t have the paparazzi waiting outside for him to flash his handsome mug.” She attempts to counter when I cut her off. “This’ll be a good fit. Holden needs someone reliable and that he can trust. He’s had a shitty string of luck with caregivers since his wife died. I think I can do some real good. I think I can make a real difference…”

  Papi nods. “And the pay?”

  “Perfect,” I reassure with another smile. “More than enough to continue to help out around here.”

  “Meena,” mom drops her hand on top of mine, “that’s not for you to worry about. We’re the parents in case you’ve forgotten. We’ll figure out something. You don’t need to keep sending us money.”

  Pride. The biggest emotion next to passion they both possess and the one that didn’t fall upon me. Just because I chose to go out and live my life rather than stay nestled close to home in case everything fell apart, doesn’t mean I don’t care about them or their well-being.

  “Mom, it’s fine. I don’t mind helping.”

  “You shouldn’t have to help,” Papi grouses. “A man should be able to take care of his familia. He should be able to provide everything they need. He shouldn’t have to rely on his niños to keep food on his goddamn table.”

  My mother slides to the side and gives his shoulders a good squeeze. “Things will get better, Carlos. They always do.”

  They don’t. But when you’re a parent there’s an instinct inside of you to at least pretend. Between his hours being cut then randomly increased at the post office and her continuously being passed over for a promotion that would be a huge pay increase rather than just random bonuses, they’re always in a constant fluctuation of income. At least with my help, it eases the burden of deciding whether to pay a bill or buy groceries.

  “It’s fine, really,” I insist warmly. “It’s full time work. Weekly pay. Room and board covered. Plenty of income to spare.”

  “Aren’t you saving for your own place?” My father pushes again. “Your own future?”

  “More of a one day at a time kinda woman. A total appreciator of living for the here and now rather than the mysterious future…You know that, Papi.”

  Mom’s arm embraces him in a shoulder hug. “Our hija with wanderlust…”

  Their daughter with a fair understanding the world is a constantly changing place. What’s the point of clinging onto anything when the reality is, it’ll either be ripped away or walk away? This second chance with Holden is no different than anything else to cross my path. I’ll enjoy it, I’ll make the most of it, but I won’t get attached. I never do.

  “What the fuck is wrong with us? Is it impossible for us to fuck more responsibly? First Nate, now you. Do our dicks need warning labels like spicy food?” All of sudden habitual thrill over the idea of food lights up his eyes. “Caution: May cause you to become addicted after just one fuck.”

  This is the same moron people will travel across the fucking country for, just to have him create them a fucking sandwich? I swear, if I didn’t have the digital proof I’d call him a childish, vain idiot whose oversized ego needs a sedative.

  “I didn’t technically fuck her.”

  He turns slightly. “You just finger banged her?”

  “Right.”

  “But she is technically your new nanny? Not just the pop in babysitter?”

  I glower, but nod.

  Wyatt poorly stifles his chuckle. “Was having her come a prerequisite for the job?”

  My glare deepens from the patio chair I'm sitting in. “It wasn't like that.”

  “Is that why you have so much trouble keeping nannies? Because you keep fucking them out of a job? Literally?”

  He laughs again, but I shake my head in disgust. “I didn’t fuck her.”

  “Fucking close enough, bro.”

  Not close enough.

  Not close at all.

  Not close to anything I’ve ever done in the past.

  Fooling around with the nanny isn’t even something I’ve ever considered. Fuck, I didn't really consider it last night, it just… happened. A natural response to being too close to her. Completely instinctual.

  Completely out of line.

  “Okay, okay,” he turns completely away from glazing the grilling chicken, “let's walk me through this shit storm from the beginning. Feel free to include the dirtiest of the dirty detail such as the volume to which she screamed your name.”

  I swallow my increasing irritation.

  “How do you know her again?”

  “Back from The Row days. She used to watch Lynk for us.”

  The Row was the nickname given to the house where we lived out most of our free time while at Clover Rose University. Those were the days when I behaved like my biggest worries were making sure my son knew he was taken care of and passing all my non-computer classes with more than just a C average. Those were the days we partied like Dons and ruled an entire college campus like royalty. Too bad I didn't pay more attention in history to realize sooner or later all empires like that fall. Glory must be given up. Popularity in any social situation has a price. Our reign may have ended when we left campus, but restrictions and regulations were rewritten because of our lingering ruins. Because we pushed limits, redefined rules, and broke boundaries as an entity. What began as basically four guys looking for fun and brotherhood led to us becoming legends and an unbreakable bond that runs deeper than blood ever could.

  “She um...well she was actually the only reliable babysitter we ever had back then. We could always count on her. She never hesitated to come when we needed her.”

  Meena loved Lynk, my son, like he was her own. I used to hate myself for thinking it, but it was true. There were days where she gave a shit about him more than his own mother.


  “So, what happened?” Wyatt questions picking up his beer. “You get the urge to sleep with her back then and decided it would be smarter to fire her instead?”

  Fuck, I wish that were the case. I wish that was the reason she disappeared from our lives. I would take that over the truth any day. It would be much simpler. I’d also probably have a degree framed on the wall instead of prison clock with years slowly digressing on it.

  I give the collar of my black t-shirt a tug. “Once I got kicked out, there wasn't really a point in having her around anymore. I was home. I…worked from home. Beth and I were...going through shit. Few months later, you all graduated and we all moved back to Highland. We just uh…never kept in contact. Didn’t really see a point.”

  More like didn’t want to loathe myself for everything I abandoned to save her.

  Everything I sacrificed to do the right thing.

  To prevent her from becoming a victim.

  To keep the biggest secret of my life, one not even my bros have all the details of.

  “Anyway, I ran into her at Lynk's soccer game yesterday, her nephew was playing on the opposing team. Turns out she just got back into the country and was looking for a job. We got to talking and before I even fucking realized it, I was inviting her over. Next thing you know…I just…offered her a job.”

  Wyatt has another sip from the glass bottle of beer. “Is she even qualified?”

  “Beyond,” I sigh, slouching down in my seat. “That's what makes what happened even worse. For once, I hired a solid woman to be their nanny. One with longevity potential. We're not talking about some little girl fresh out of high school with responsibility issues as big as her daddy ones. No, we're talking about a woman with a degree in early childhood education who has worked in numerous capacities with children of various ages and backgrounds. She has constant continuing education hours she accrues. She's CPR certified. She's bilingual-”

  “Meaning she can call you daddy in English and Spanish.”

  I grump, “That daddy thing isn't sexy when you've got a four-year-old daughter.”

  Or hunt down pedophiles for a living.

  Or men who purchase underage women specifically to be called that.

  Wyatt finally frowns. “You just had to ruin that for me.”

  “Yes.”

  After a good roll of his eyes, he states, “Look, you fucked up. It happens. A onetime finger bang isn't the end of the world. You're being a fucking drama queen. Just....make sure she knows it won't happen again. Problem. Solved.”

  He's right, which are two words I will never say to him out loud. But, in this case he actually is. If we never cross that bridge again, we'll be fine. While I can't explain what happened last night or why my brain can’t logically break down why Meena always ignites this primal urge to protect her, I can actively make sure it never happens again. Life is nothing more than a long binary code. 1s and 0s. True or false. Constant yeses and nos. Rights and wrongs. I know the difference.

  I know when to go which way.

  I won't fuck up again.

  All of a sudden, Meena appears in the back porch doorway. She tosses her long, dark curly hair to one side of her face and pins me in place with her wild, brown stare. Helplessly, my eyes drink in the white tank top clinging to her chest before scrolling lower to the tiny red work out shorts stuck to her thighs. Images of tearing a hole in the crotch and yanking her onto my lap to fuck her the way my fingers did yesterday causes my cock to stiffen.

  As nonchalantly as possible I relocate my ice-cold beer to cover my lap. Unfortunately, it's too late. She's already taken notice or at least that's my assumption by the way her bottom lip is now concealing what I hope is a whimper.

  Not hope.

  Can’t hope.

  All sexual Meena responses need to be an automatic zero.

  Wyatt plasters on a grin I know too well. A grin that up until this moment I never hated. The number of women who have fallen for his obnoxious good looks and charm is too high. He used to be the kind of asshole in college women would consider themselves privileged to have a spot on his endless list. Can't say it's any better now. He's a world-renowned chef that looks like an A-list Hollywood celebrity. He doesn't hear the word no very often.

  This better be one of those times.

  He better hit the zero without vacillation.

  Fuck.

  I can't think like that. I have no business to. She doesn't belong to me. She's here to do a job, and it isn't the one I keep thinking about that requires her on her knees.

  “You must be Meena.” He extends his hand. “I'm-”

  “Wyatt.” She shakes and sweetly smiles. “I remember you.”

  “And it is a shame I don't remember you.”

  His flirtation grinds my teeth.

  “Face and body like that...” he continues, moving a little closer. “How could I forget?”

  Meena offers him a wicked smirk. “Porque no estaba buscando tomar un número.”

  To my surprise he chuckles and gives his chin a rub. “O tal vez simplemente no querías el mío.”

  Are they fucking flirting? In front of me? Fuck, I hate the fact I didn't pay more attention when he tried to teach us the shit he learned while he was traveling.

  Meena's eyes steal a glance of me. “Tal vez.”

  I swallow the urge to growl my annoyance on having no idea what they're discussing. “Did you just get in?”

  She nods and allows her attention to drift back to me.

  Where it belongs.

  Wait.

  No.

  “Key works? No problems?”

  “Not with getting that door opened.” Meena’s smile becomes sexually taunting as she gives my crotch a glimpse. “We’ll see about the others.”

  My mouth cracks slightly open in shock.

  In awe.

  In temptation to press fucking one.

  Seeing my response, brings more cheer to her expression. “I was going to unpack, but Lynk was wondering if we could come outside to kick the soccer ball around while we wait for dinner to be ready. Sage says she just wants to look for rolly pollies.”

  My mouth opens to reply when Wyatt interrupts. “Oh, you're having dinner with us tonight?”

  Meena wets her plump lips slowly. “Si. Is that a problem?”

  His gaze begins to travel down her body and my grip on the bottle aggressively tightens. “Absolutely not.”

  No, but him thinking about her naked sure the hell is.

  “It's fine,” I interject, shooting to my feet. “Just make sure they put on their tennis shoes, please.”

  “Sure thing.” She spins on her heels and shuts the door behind her.

  Instantly, I snip in a quiet voice, “You cannot fuck her, Wyatt.”

  A very loud laugh erupts from him. It continues for what feels like hours before he finally catches his breath and shakes his head. “I've got no desire to have her call me papi, bro.”

  My head tilts at him sarcastically.

  “Don't get me wrong. That,” he motions his head the direction of the door, “that's a hot piece of ass I would consider going after under normal circumstances, but these are not normal. And this fucked up reaction you had to harmless flirting, was to prove a point.”

  “Which was?”

  “You want her to be more than your nanny. Even if you refuse to admit it out loud.”

  What I want and what is going to happen don't have to be the same thing. Ever since I got kicked out of Clover Rose they rarely are.

  Ever since I stopped my world for her once before, I avoid allowing them to be.

  The door swings open again, this time freeing Lynk, my nine, almost ten, year old son, and Sage, my four-year-old daughter, to the backyard. They barely acknowledge us as they part their separate ways, which stings more than I want to admit. The more they grow, the less their every moment is required to have my attention. The more they grow, the more I fear they won't need me. Won't want me. It was hard enough
their mother grew to that point. I'm not sure I can handle it if they do too.

  Meena struts out into the open grass area with the soccer ball tucked underneath her arm.

  With my eyes held hostage, I watch her drop the object, and give it a hard kick to Lynk. The one swift action regains all of my dick's attention. Between the way her tits bounce and full ass shakes, even a fucking priest would consider tapping that.