✨ WORST NANNY EVER by @angelacasellaauthor releasing September 12th!
A standalone romcom in the Babes of Brewing series of interconnected standalones
Note: There are TWO different versions of this romcom: 1) A spicy open door version with some strong language and sex scenes and 2) A closed door version with mild language and only kissing.
Please choose the version that’s best for you!
#GetItHere
https://a.co/d/iqRc2LE
https://a.co/d/h08z0kN
Why you need to #ONECLICK book…
🔥Nanny/Single Dad
🔥Opposites Attract
🔥Grumpy Sunshine
🔥Slow Burn
🔥Found Family
🔥Matchmakin
🔥Romcom
She’s horribly unqualified…and everything they both need.
Travis
The last time I saw my ex-fling, she was toasting her engagement to a record producer. So when I heard she’d had a baby, I assumed he was the father…until she showed up at my house seven years later with a little boy and said, “Your turn.”
I’m a musician. My life is already loud and chaotic enough, and it’s definitely not kid-friendly. But I was raised by a nanny, and I see no harm in finding one for my son. Too bad he rejects every single person I hire. The only person he actually likes? Not a nanny. She’s a friend of a friend and the former floor manager at a brewery. But she has just enough childcare experience that I offer her the job out of desperation…and instantly regret it.
Hannah is a bossy, opinionated, loud-mouthed hurricane of a woman who tests my patience, my sanity, and my number one rule: don’t fall for the nanny.
Hannah
Let the record show, I am not a professional nanny. I did, however, raise my little brother, so I know my way around a juice box and a tantrum. Which is more than Travis can say.
My new boss is uptight, obsessive, and needs more help than his kid does.
I was determined to pop in, whip things into shape, and leave, but the more I get to know them, the more I want to stay…
EXCERPT
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Travis says, trying to get up but stumbling a little.
I wrap a hand around his thick bicep. “Nope. Not happening.”
His gaze darkens. “I’m not going to let you sleep on the couch. Getting drunk was my screwup. You might as well sleep in here anyway. The pillows already smell like you. They always do.”
“They do?” I ask, surprised. “I’ve only been in here a couple of times. But I did hide under your covers once for hide-and-seek.”
“It’s been driving me insane,” he says with a groan. He reaches for the Pedialyte and takes a swig, following it up with the Tylenol I set out for him. The satin sheet pools at his waist, showing off his chest and arms.
I swallow against my suddenly dry throat, then take the Pedialyte from him and take a big gulp, very aware that his lips were pressed there before mine. Maybe it’s the closest I’ll get to kissing him again—a depressing thought if ever I’ve had one.
I set the bottle down. “If it’s driving you insane, why do you want more of my scent all over your bed?”
“Sometimes a man wants to be driven insane,” he says thickly. “I can’t sleep anyway. Stay with me, Hannah. I won’t touch you. I’ll just dream about it.”
