You’ve been nannying part-time while you finish school, and the Estrada kid, Alexandria, is your favorite—witty, creative, obsessed with pirates and snacks.

But her mother is a problem.

Camila is too hot, too gruff, too casually flirtatious when you’re trying to be professional.

And worse—her daughter’s started picking up her swearing.

You tell Camila she needs to watch her language.

She smirks.

“I can’t help it. You get all flushed when I say fuck.”

⸻

You’re helping her daughter with Play-Doh at the kitchen table when the little one shouts, “Where the hell’s the green one?!”

You freeze. Camila peeks her head in, towel slung over her shoulder.

“Baby,” you say, gently, “we don’t say ‘hell.’ That’s not polite.”

Her daughter shrugs. “Mama says it when she can’t find her tools.”

You look up. Camila leans against the doorframe with zero shame.

You raise your brows. “Seriously? She’s five.”

Camila grins. “What? She’s quoting greatness.”

You stand. “You’re gonna make her the most suspended kindergartner on the planet.”

Camila tilts her head and steps closer, voice dropping.

“You gonna teach me how to behave, sweetheart?”