Lily Gold

‘To the boys in apartment 5A. Congratulations. You have a kid.’

That’s what the note attached to the abandoned baby carrier says. And now my three gorgeous neighbors are in deep trouble. None of them have a clue how to look after the baby that’s been left on their doorstep.

Luckily, there’s a nanny in the building. I can barely believe my eyes when the sizzling boys next door come knocking for my help. The truth is, I’ve been secretly crushing on the guys in 5A for years—and now I finally have an excuse to meet them all.

There’s Jack, the sweet, nerdy game designer with the infectious smile.
Cyrus, the flirty dancer whose smooth moves melt my brain into goo.
And Sebastian, the ripped businessman with the smoldering stare.

Every day, I go to their apartment to take care of the baby.
And every night, they take care of me. It doesn’t take long for our arrangement to get steamy. Soon, I’m falling for all three of them.

It’s a dangerous game. These men are my bosses, not my boyfriends, and I’ve already told them that romance isn’t in the cards. But every molten look and stomach-fluttering kiss is making it harder for me to stay strong. And when work threatens to tear our fragile family apart, one thing becomes very clear:

I’m sick of being the girl next door.

It’s time this nanny got a promotion.

Nanny for the Neighbors is a full-length reverse harem romance featuring beautiful men, scorching drama, and tons of found family sweetness. No cheating, and an ultra-cute HEA guaranteed!

A Surprise Baby Reverse Harem Romance

Nanny for the Neighbors

Genesis (@whisperingchapters)

No one says anything. I look up. All three men are staring at me, their eyes wide.

“She’s a witch,” Cyrus says faintly. “What the Hell. She’s been crying for about six hours straight. Are you saying all we had to do is pick her up?”

I open my mouth, then snap it shut again.

“That’s BS. I’m not dressing my ki… uh, a kid in these.” I move down the aisle, examining the other graphic shirts. I’m a Future Boss for the boys, and I’m Cute for the girls. I’m A Superhero for the boys, and Born to Be Spoiled for the girls. I look down at Cami. “I’m glad you can’t read.”

“I realised a few years ago that whenever I date someone, I end up changing myself to fit what they like. If they like quiet people, I talk less. If they like loud people, I get more bubbly. If they like football, I’ll learn to like it too. I find all the things that make them happy, and I mould myself into that person. I don’t notice myself doing it, until we break up, and I realise that I’m nothing like the person that I was before. All of the things that I like and dislike just get swallowed up.”

“I’m like a chameleon. And I hate it. I hate that I’m not strong enough to just be myself. I hate that I’m such a people-pleaser that I’ll change my whole personality just to be liked; but for the life of me, I don’t know how to stop it. It just happens.”

“He’s reading her a story,” he says, looking amused.

“Well. It’s a chapter from a textbook about international copyright law. I’ve told him he has to at least do funny voices to keep her interested, but he refuses.”

“God, honey. Your mouth is so hot. So fucking warm and wet.” His hips jerk as I lick into his slit, sucking hard. “Shit. Can I come in you? Mess up that pretty mouth? Fill you up inside?” 

“I do have a habit of liking people who treat me like shit. I’m probably one rude email from falling in love with him.”

“Holy shit, Seb,” she mumbles. “You’re a freaking nuclear weapon.”

It was just as good for her, then. Thank God. I nuzzle into her soft curls, breathing in her sweet apple scent. “My dick causes widespread death and destruction?”

“It belongs in a fucking containment facility. Made of concrete. Buried fifty feet underground. Somewhere near the Earth’s core, where no poor, innocent girl will accidentally stumble across it and get fucked to pieces.” She twitches as an aftershock runs through her. “I think I’m dead. My vagina exploded.”

“What were you expecting?” I wrap a curl around my finger, tugging it and watching it spring back into place.

“Silent missionary sex where you counted your thrusts and thought about the upcoming tax season to get yourself off.”

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