Burn For You (Boys of the South) by Marquita Valentine Read Free Book Online

giggles, and I turn my attention to her. Her light brown hair fell out last month and a sort of strawberry blond has replaced it. I’m not sure what to make of that since Paisley’s a brunette and no one’s a ginger in either of our families.
    Though Austin could be one. I’m not sure since he dyes it black and green. Paisley got all bent out of shape when she realized I’d stopped dyeing my hair after I’d gotten successful at racing. She said I was giving in to pressure, while I felt like I didn’t need the attention it garnered. I wanted to be known for my driving skills, not my hair color of the week.
    The doorbell rings and I get up, leaving Remington with Mia. For all his worthlessness as a father to me, he makes one hell of a grandfather. Plus, Mia loves him.
    Clearly, I need to do a better job teaching her which guys are bad for her.
    But first, I have to interview candidate number one: Landry Basnight, a recent college graduate of UNC-Charlotte and currently a volunteer at Charlotte Baptist Medical Center. She has an early childhood degree and is about twenty years too young for the job.  Too bad really, because her resume is incredible. I’m impressed as hell with how she spends her time.
    Only, I need old, like Nanny McPhee old. But I can’t tell her that, so I’ll do the right thing and interview her, then go with candidate number two, a fifty-five year old grandmother, who enjoys knitting and baking pies.
    No harm, no foul. No talking in the press about what they think I’m doing to the nanny either.
    I swing open the door, and my jaw nearly drops to the floor. Same brown hair, same hazel eyes, same lush curves, and a full mouth that makes me want to do very good bad things with it.
    While my body gets all on board with what it’s being shown, my mind tries to make sense of it all. “Lisa?”
    She blushes, full-on scarlet as her eyes round. Recovering slightly, she extends her arm, her small hand held out in offering. “ Landry Basnight. I’m here for the nanny position.”
    Oh, I can think of lots of positions I want to have her in—under me, on top of me, or in front of me with her ass in the air. Even if she hadn’t already left a bad taste in my mouth, all those positions are exactly why I can’t hire her.
    I’m pretty damn sure fucking the nanny isn’t allowed.
    Out of habit, I take that dainty hand, squeeze it lightly, and then just because I can, I don’t let go. Instead, I relish the feel of her soft skin against mine. I enjoy the fact that her lips part and her chest starts to rapidly rise and fall.
    “Nice to meet you again, Landry.” I rake my gaze over her, taking in the pencil-thin skirt and dark pink shirt that clings to her like second skin. She looks like a naughty teacher.  I am more turned on by this outfit than the scantily clad uniform she wore at King’s. I attribute this to my constant need to rebel against authority and the unfulfilled fantasies I’ve had about librarians and teachers. “Landry suits you better than Lisa.”
    “I...” Her gaze drops, black lashes falling on her cheeks. “It’s nice to meet you again, too, Mr. Montgomery.”
    “You can call me Beau.”
    Her chin jerks up, her expression surprised, as if she expected me to lecture her on the deception.  “I don’t think so.”
    Keeping her distance. Smart girl. “Guess the fake names help keep you safe?”
    She nods, her cheeks returning to a normal color of soft pink. “Sometimes we get stalkers.”
    My grip tightens. The bouncer, who, according to my brother, Walker, was busy getting it on with Jasmine every time she left the room, should have been protecting Landry and the other employees. No wonder girls were getting stalked. Drunk assholes have no sense of morality. They’re just drunk assholes who, in their head, have an excuse.
    Damn it, this girl needs someone to look after her. That someone needs to be me. I mentally shake myself. That someone cannot be me. I need to keep my