Basically, it’s not productive.

The sound has the added benefit of drowning out the pleasantries that my dad and Summer are exchanging with Lucy at the front door.

Not my house, not my responsibility. We’re doing the nanny interviews at the main farmhouse, where my dad lives, because I don’t like letting random people into my home. Especially not ones who look at me like this is their ticket into completing some weird little premade happy family fantasy with me.

Harvey, on the other hand, would run a bed-and-breakfast out of this place and enjoy the hell out of taking care of people. Ever since he got injured and handed the ranch over to me, it’s like he just wanders around socializing 24-7.

I watch the small grains tumble into the white paper filter in the coffeemaker's top and then swivel to fill the pot with water at the sink.

“Kinda late in the day for a pot of coffee, don’t you think?” Harvey strides in, with Summer not far behind.

They have no idea. I’m full up on coffee today. Almost jittery. “Just premaking it for tomorrow morning for ya.”

Summer snorts and my dad rolls his eyes. They both know I’m full of shit.

“You weren’t very nice to her, Cade,” is his next comment. And now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “In fact, you’ve been a challenge with this entire process.”

Crossing my arms, I lean back against the countertop. “I’m not very nice. And I’ll happily be a challenge about protecting my kid.” I swear my dad’s lips twitch when he sits down at the table and crosses a booted foot over his knee. Summer just stands, hip propped against the doorframe, staring at me. She does this sometimes and it’s unnerving.

She’s smart. She doesn’t miss a beat. I swear I hear the gears turning in her head, but she doesn’t have a big mouth, so you never quite know what she’s thinking.

I like her and I’m glad my little brother was smart enough to put a ring on it.

“You’re nice,” she says thoughtfully, “in your own way.”

I clamp my teeth onto my lip because I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing I’m amused by that comment.

She sighs. “Listen, that’s everyone we’ve interviewed. I went out of my way to weed out the applicants who seemed less interested in spending time with Luke and more interested in spending time with . . . you.”

“Hoo boy”—Dad slaps the table—“and there were several. Who knew women would willingly sign up to endure your scowls and bad moods? The pay isn’t that good.”