Chapter 1

I was not having a good day.

Why the hell was it so easy to find ads for potential dates yet nearly impossible to find capable employees? Of course, HEA was the brand-new app that had been created locally by some big deal designer type and it was making waves.

I wasn't from around here—not even close. My mother had local roots that she very rarely even talked about, but I didn't know much about Crescent Cove, other than it had served as home base for many years for a sizable part of my family.

Added to that, my brief reconnaissance visit here over three years ago had ended up with me making a son with a hometown girl who now only lived here for part of the year.

I'd purchased a sprawling home here practically sight unseen to begin to build a home base for Owen. From what I'd gathered, he'd spent the bulk of his first few years of life moving from apartment to apartment while his mom tried to make part time clerical work into a life-sustaining salary.

Eventually, she'd given up, and I'd received a letter in the mail.

You have a son in Crescent Cove. Paternity test at your demand. You can have him for the summer while I travel with my acting troupe then I want him back.

Son? Acting troupe? What the actual hell?

Then bits and pieces from that misty night started floating back. Auditions. Rehearsing lines. She couldn't let go of her dreams, so for now, she was happy with office work.

I barely remembered the woman. It wasn't as if I was indiscriminate. Far from it. But we'd known each other for one hazy night. Condom had torn, I'd guessed.

Of course I also hadn't realized I'd chosen the baby capital of the USA for my impromptu hookup.

Go me.

Family was something my son needed more of. Me? I could take it or leave it.

The only important member was my younger sister, Sydney. We'd grown up with basically each other for company while our mother built her brand as a home ambassador and lifestyle maven. More meaningless titles meant to seduce impressionable consumers into parting with their hard-earned dollars.

Actually, now that I thought about it, selling real estate was similar, and I'd only stumbled into that career by chance. Offering the other party a dream of a real home and family. It could all be theirs, everything they ever wanted, as long as they had the cash.

If not? Just keep on driving.

Not that our father, who was a slave to the stock market's whims, was any better. And he and my mother often fought more than they actually talked to each other.

Annoyed with my train of thought, I grabbed my phone and quickly called my lawyer. Before the call even connected, I hit end on the call and scowled out the window across the well-tended hills of the acreage beyond my new home.

There were miles and miles for Owen to explore, once he had someone to show him the way.

Like you?

No, not me. I didn't know my way around the property yet, for one. I could take my time hiring some of the staff, as my day-to-day needs were few, but the one thing I could not wait on was hiring a nanny.

I definitely needed assistance in that area.

What did I know about child-rearing? Precisely nothing. And I had no one to guide me, especially since Sydney hadn't even moved here yet. She knew nothing about kids either, but she was a woman, so surely that imparted some kind of native knowledge a boneheaded male like myself could not claim.

I braced my forehead on my fist as my temples throbbed.

Sydney, I need you, dammit.

Oh, she was coming—she'd promised she would, once I'd informed her of my plans—but she had her own affairs to sort out so she'd been a bit delayed.

In the meantime, I needed to hire someone with skills with children. Even rudimentary skills would put them ahead of me.

I contacted my admin, Caro, conveniently stationed in her office down the hall, and asked her to get my local real estate agent on the line. Just this morning, Caro had given me a chatty postcard from Owen's mom, Melissa, just wanting to "check in" and "see how things were going."

As if we were friends. Or even friendly.

Clearly, I was too out of sorts to speak to my lawyer, Preston Shaw, right now. Once I'd been told of Owen's existence, I'd immediately looked for someone local to handle things. Pres, located in nearby Kensington Square, came highly rated, so I'd informed him about the situation and set about moving to the Cove.

I need you to draft papers to my former lover, saying that Owen is mine and I'm not giving him back in two months as if he's some sort of temporary offspring. If she didn't want me to have him permanently, she should never have told me of his existence. No way in hell will I settle for being a part-time father.

I might not have any clue how to be one, but I'd just fucking have to learn, wouldn't I?

Not that I'd had Pres actually send the papers to Melissa yet, mainly because I didn't have a new permanent address for her yet.

But I'd grown up with a mom who cared more about her brand and her business than her children. Damn straight I would not consign my own offspring to such a fate.

Absolutely not.

I already hated he'd not even known I existed for the first three years of his life. No wonder the boy barely spoke. He was in the care of a damn stranger, aka me, since his beloved mommy was currently playing Maggie in Hicksville, USA's version of "A Streetcar Named Desire."

I was surprised she wasn't playing the ideal mother in some other play. Since some of the women I knew tended to be great at performing roles, not actually being them.

Not two minutes later, Caro's businesslike tone gave way to the purr of Laken Losty, my local real estate agent. "Jude, it's so nice to hear from you again. What can I help you with?"

I just bet it was. My money and I were welcome guests anywhere I chose to appear.

"I need a nanny. Immediately. Where can I find one?"

"Oh. Hmm. A nanny," she repeated, as if she'd forgotten somehow that I had a child. I'd only reminded her half a dozen times so far.

Granted, Owen wasn't like many children. He was quiet and respectful, rarely seen and even more rarely heard from.

Not unlike my own childhood, in fact.

But his solemn silence wasn't a good thing. His eyes were full of pain.

Somehow I needed to alleviate that. I needed to find someone who was a natural caretaker. Surely someone like that had to exist, right?

"Have you tried perusing the Cove Facebook group? Each neighborhood has their own. Yours is Lakeview Road area, I believe?—"

"No," I snapped. "In my position, I can't hire just anyone off the street. I need someone who has been vetted and possesses a solid reputation and first class references."

"We do have a community-wide online message board."

"A message board?" I echoed dubiously. "Doesn't sound very professional." Somehow even less so than a Facebook group.

"Oh, you'd be surprised how many professional individuals we have in the Cove."

Good thing Laken couldn't see me rolling my eyes. "No kidding? Well, golly gee." I couldn't keep the caustic edge from my tone. Not that she seemed to notice.

"That kind of homespun setup works very well here," she assured me. "I'm sure you could find what you're looking for there with a brief post. And if someone contacts you, you could do your own vetting," she added helpfully.

"There's a fine idea," I snapped. "How about this? I pay you and you field the replies to my posting. You should be able to source me someone I can use, since you told me—and I quote, ‘you have your finger on the pulse of everything in the Cove.'"

"Why, yes, I do, sir, but I'm not someone who hires nannies."

"Do you have a preferred employment agency then? I want someone I can work with directly, not to hire an unknown individual through a group or a message board."

I was still stunned these methods were used in a bustling employment environment. I felt as if I'd blinked and been thrust years into the past.

"Well, Cove Employment has a number of headhunters. They've been the industry leader here for many years." At my silence, she sighed. "Or I can put out my feelers and see if I can find someone for you that could work. Would that be acceptable?"

"Yes. Now here's what I need for my son?—"

Almost immediately, she began to backtrack. "At least I could do the initial legwork and you could follow-up if someone seems worthwhile. I should be able to find someone rather quickly," she added as if she knew my irritation was growing. "There are many college students home for the summer, for example, though we're already into the summer so they may not be as readily available."

"College students?" I echoed. "I'd rather hire a professional nanny. Surely there should be some around here. Who do you use for your child?"

"My neighbor babysits her sometimes." Her hesitance was loud and clear. "Beyond that, family helps fill in as they can. Pity you don't have family to call on in the area."

"I told you I'm new to the area."

Despite my twisted roots in the Cove, they probably didn't even know I existed. I'd only come here three years ago to try to scope them out without being detected. Which I'd done, before accidentally creating a child.

And creating my own roots here basically on a whim that had changed my entire life. Following my gut had worked very well.

But I wasn't going to advertise my thorny family tree until I absolutely had no choice. I just needed to find a freaking nanny.

Surely there had to be a…pool of them somewhere. An upscale town like this had to have a ready assortment of young women and men who wanted to work and were good with kids. Or, hell, they didn't need to be young.

As long as they were still ambulatory, that was fine with me.

"How about the local paper?" I asked finally, sighting a folded copy on the coffee table. I hadn't signed up for it, but maybe Caro had picked it up for me. I enjoyed finding out how a town worked from the ground up, and the local paper was a good place to start.

Not that I had much choice in this case. The amount of workable leads available to me were exactly none.

Even Laken doing the legwork didn't really work for me. She didn't sound as if she had a much better read on the situation than I did—and I knew next to nothing about the people of Crescent Cove, other than a few of the members of my so-called family I'd done background assessments on and the couple of men I'd met by pure chance who had helped re-route the direction of my life.

"Oh, yes, good idea," she said brightly. "The paper is run by Asher Wainwright, who actually might have a line on nannies for you. He also was a single father for some time."

"Lovely. Does the paper have a classified section?"

"I thought you didn't want to hire someone who was unknown?—"

"I do not. But it seems as if that's just the way things are done around here, is it not?"

Also, I trusted my gut. Most of the time.

She mumbled a reply I couldn't quite make out as I bobbled the phone while I grabbed the paper. Quickly, I flipped to the classified section and read through an assortment of ads for used tires and used patio furniture and used vehicles.

The employment section, however, was far more sparse. Other than a few open secretarial positions and some random positions at downtown Cove clothing retailers, there didn't seem to be much.

Well, that just meant mine would stand out.

"I'm going to place an ad," I told Laken.

"In the paper?"

"Yes."

"Not the community message board. Which is free," she offered, as if that would somehow influence my decision.

"Cost is no object, Laken."

"Oh, of course, sir, I'm just thinking you'd perhaps reach a wider pool online. Not everyone subscribes to the paper."

"Does it not have good circulation locally?"

"It does," she said slowly, "but newspapers overall are a dying breed. Why Asher almost shuttered the newspaper last year due to dwindling numbers."

"But he didn't, as I have today's edition in my hand. So, I'm going to try this route. If it doesn't net me what I want, I'll contact you. Sound good?"

"Or you could just go on the message board." She was not giving up on the freaking message board, virtually guaranteeing I would never so much as lurk there.

"Thanks for the suggestion." I hung up and blew out a breath before typing in the web address to the online classified portal on my laptop.

Within a few minutes, I had what I considered an eye-catching classified ad submitted. Anytime now, applicants should start rolling into my inbox.

Fittingly, Owen let out a sharp cry from his playroom down the hall just as I finished.

Any-fucking-time now would be nice.