Bells and Whistles Read online

  Two men, a smart little girl, and a pet cow...

  Ballet dancer Jamie has never fit in with his loud and brash blue-collar family. They grudgingly accepted him being gay, but when Jamie’s father finds him wearing one of his sister’s dresses, Jamie ends up on his best friend’s sofa. An ad for a female live-in nanny position in rural Kansas seems like a Christmas gift from above and a solution to his homelessness. Never mind that Jamie knows nothing about farm life. Or cows. Or kids. At least he knows how to rock a dress.

  Ben Franklin—yes, his parents are crazy like that—is a dairy farmer in desperate need of female assistance. At least that was his mother’s last words before she left for Florida with her new husband. All Ben knows is raising cattle. Now he’s tasked with raising his niece Charlie as well. The last thing Ben expected when he placed an ad for a nanny was to develop confusing feelings for the beautiful Janie.

  With a little Christmas magic, the help of a pet cow, and a mischievous little girl, two men might find the true meaning of home, family, and love.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Bells and Whistles

  Copyright © 2019 Liza Kay

  ISBN: 978-1-4874-2580-7

  Cover art by Martine Jardin

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

  Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

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  www.eXtasybooks.com or www.devinedestinies.com

  Bells and Whistles

  The Twelve Days of Christmas Book 8

  By

  Liza Kay

  Dedication

  For my readers. Happy holiday season to all of you!

  Chapter One

  Busy farmer needs an experienced, live-in nanny and housekeeper in Bloomington, Kansas. Days off are Sunday and Monday. Responsibilities include general housekeeping, laundering, cooking, shopping, and care of 12-year-old girl. Good salary and working conditions. Nice living quarters and use of car included. Candidates should be female, have good references working as a nanny and housekeeper, be able to live in, and have excellent childcare skills. Available immediately.

  Jamie stared at the ad his best friend had sent him. She had to be crazy. He switched from the Email app to his browser and continued scrolling through ads for jobs he was—maybe—skilled enough to not fuck up completely. He’d done that the whole morning, but he hadn’t had much luck. The restaurants he’d called had already filled the available positions. And the guy answering the phone when he’d called about the bellhop job had sounded sleazy as hell when he’d asked Jamie if he minded being more friendly to the hotel guests than was usual.

  He sighed deeply when he actually found an ad for a discreet escort agency. “No way. Never.”

  Frowning, he nibbled on his bottom lip as he swiped across his cell’s screen. He tapped Maria’s picture and lifted the device to his ear.

  “Hey, doll.”

  “Maria, what the hell?” Jamie leaned back on his best friend’s sofa and pulled his feet on the cushion. “Did you read the ad to the end before you sent it?”

  Maria laughed. “Did you? The position is perfect for you.”

  Jamie’s eyes widened. “How? I know nothing about farms. I’ve never seen a living cow in my life. And kids? Don’t even get me started. I have zero experience, and I’m not female.”

  “I mean, because it’s a live-in position and you need a place to stay.”

  Jamie cringed. His gaze roamed Maria’s tiny studio apartment with the clean but shabby carpet and the goodwill furniture. He felt bad enough already, crashing at her place although she had so little. Jamie knew he couldn’t stay forever, but she was right. He had no job and no money to pay for an apartment. The money in his wallet wasn’t enough to pay gas for the car he didn’t have.

  Thanks, Dad.

  “Jamie,” Maria said softly. “I’d never toss you out. Stay as long as you need. But it’s a week until Christmas, and I won’t be back until January. I don’t want you to spend the holidays alone and moping. Have you found something else that you can do?”

  “Aside from selling my companionship?”

  “Don’t you dare, James Spencer.”

  Jamie sighed. He’d been staying at her place for three days, and already he missed his family. They were loud and rowdy and didn’t understand him. But he loved them anyway, loved the noise and his siblings poking their noses into his business. Too bad his family had decided they didn’t want him anymore. “You’re my best friend, Maria. I’ll always be glad you took me in. I know I need a job, but...”

  “Why don’t you call the dude and give it a try?”

  Jamie pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “Even if I had the required skills, I don’t have boobs.”

  Maria laughed. “Well, we both know you look better in a dress than me, with your killer legs and slim waist.”

  “You want me to lie?” Jamie grasped the sofa cushion. “Are you crazy? How can you even suggest that? As soon as the farmer sees me, he’ll know I’m a guy. A Kansas farmer, Maria! I’ll die. He’s probably one of those bull-necked men with huge, work-roughened hands who can snap me in half onehandedly. His best friend is his shot gun called Betsy or something.”

  Maria snorted. “Dramatic much? And cut the prejudiced bullshit. That he’s a farmer doesn’t mean he’s a bigot. Don’t you remember that picture of the country guy who decked his truck in rainbows to celebrate Pride?”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” However, Jamie wasn’t looking forward to getting punched. Been there, done that—and brought home the blood-splattered shirt when he’d come onto the wrong guy. Jamie got up and stretched, groaning when his back muscles twinged. Maria’s sofa really was a crappy excuse for furniture.

  “Didn’t I tell you to sleep in my bed while I visited my parents? My sofa is crap.”

  Jamie laughed despite his aching back. God, he loved the woman. He shuffled into the kitchen, got a glass from the cupboard and held it under the tap. While he took a couple of sips, he rubbed the small of his back. “All my clothes are at home, Maria. Fuck, I don’t have money to get to Kansas. Dad wouldn’t let me leave with more than a duffle.”

  “First you have to grow a pair and call the man. If you get the position, feel free to take whatever you need out of my wardrobe. Mom went shopping with me yesterday, so I’ll be fine.”

  Jamie blinked rapidly, fighting against his tears. “Maria...”

  “Aww, don’t cry, baby doll.” She scoffed. “You’ll only make me cry as well, and you know how much I hate smudged mascara. You’re my best friend. Of course I’ll do whatever I can to help you, because I know you’d do the same for me. Now be a big boy and make the call. What do you have to lose?”

  “My dignity? My balls?” Jamie clutched the glass tighter. “Okay, fine. But I’m only
doing this to get you off my back. The guy will probably hear that I’m a man right away.”

  “Nonsense. Call me right away, Jamie, or I swear I’ll terrorize you with calls and messages until your ears bleed.”

  Jamie rolled his eyes. He opened the fridge, not really knowing what he was looking for. Courage, maybe? Maria only had a bottle of ketchup and a soda in her fridge. “How is that a threat? I’d say it’s your normal behavior.” God knew that woman would use every means necessary to contact him, down to letter pigeons and skywriting. He slammed the door closed and leaned against it. His stomach cramped with a mixture of gnawing hunger and anxiety.

  “Love you too,” Maria quipped. “Now quit stalling.”

  When the line went dead, Jamie groaned and rubbed his cell against his forehead. If he didn’t find a job, he’d be out of money to pay for his phone. And without a phone it’d be even harder to get a job. Maria didn’t have a home line.

  Jamie pushed away from the fridge and started pacing—as much pacing as the tiny kitchenette allowed. “Hi, my name is Jamie. I’m calling about the...” He groaned. “Sure. Tell him your real name, moron.” Jamie shook his head at himself, nibbling his lip. He hated this. He couldn’t even make a call without preparing a speech. He’d always been like that. It had gotten to the point where he managed everything via Email, even if it took longer until he got an answer. Calling for the jobs earlier had been hell.

  “Maria’s right. I need to grow a pair.” Jamie jumped up and down, rotated his shoulders, and turned his head left and right. He took a deep breath and opened the Email again. He copied the number... and hesitated with his thumb over the green phone icon until the screen turned black again. “Shit. I won’t get the job anyway.” His hand shook. Jamie activated his cell and pressed down on the icon, then lifted his cell to his ear. He wasn’t sure what was louder in his ear—the ring tone or the blood rushing through his veins.

  “Franklin.”

  Startled by the deep voice, Jamie almost lost the grip on his cell. He fumbled around for a moment, cursing softly under his breath.

  “Hello? Who’s this?”

  Jamie pressed the device against his ear and swallowed. “Um... hi.” He cleared his throat and tried to soften his voice. It shouldn’t be too hard, as he didn’t have a deep, manly voice—his father’s words—to begin with. “This is... Jamie Spencer.” He winced. Shit. “I’m calling about the job. I mean... the nanny position.”

  “Oh! Of course. What’s your name again?”

  The farmer’s gruff bass sounded friendlier now, or maybe that was wishful thinking. “Janie Spencer, Sir.”

  “All right. Call me Ben. I’m glad you called. The position is still available. I’ll cut right to the chase, because one of my neighbor’s pigs is close to farrowing and I might need to help her along. How much experience do you have with kids?”

  Jamie coughed. Well, he’d grown up with siblings, but Jamie was the baby of the family. His youngest sister was five years older than him. “Plenty! I... for my last job I took care of three kids. Took them to school. I’m really good at helping with homework, too.” It hadn’t been his fault that he’d accidentally deleted his brother’s research for a college paper when he’d borrowed his laptop without permission. Like it hadn’t been his fault when he’d crashed his mother’s car during his first ride to school.

  “Sounds good,” Ben said. “What about housework? Cooking?” Something rattled in the background, then Jamie heard something that sounded like... What the hell did farrowing even mean?

  “Uh...” He scratched his hair. “I make a mean breakfast. Of course, I don’t know what you or your daughter prefer to eat, but—”

  “Charlie is my niece.”

  Jamie gasped when an idea popped up. “Hey, does she enjoy dancing? I’ve had ballet training for years.”

  “Not sure, but she might be interested.” Ben laughed. “Well, I’ll need some written references from your last employer, please. Since I want you to start right away, can you tell me how soon you’re able to come out here?”

  “As soon as possible!” Jamie clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle a squeal. This couldn’t be happening. He’d been so sure he wouldn’t have a chance. What was he getting himself into? And why the hell would the guy trust a total stranger with his niece? He had to be crazy. As crazy as Jamie.

  Ben cleared his throat. “Cool. Look, Charlie and I live alone. On a dairy farm in the middle of nowhere. I’m in desperate need for help, but nobody so far was willing to move here. So I’m taking a leap of faith. If you want the job, it’s yours.”

  Jamie cupped his throat. Holy fuck. “I... I’d like the job. But...”

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t have a car.”

  “Where are you from?”

  Jamie bit his bottom lip. “Chicago. It’s far, I know—”

  “No problem. Are you okay taking the bus?”

  Blinking, Jamie took a deep breath. “Sure.”

  “Send me an Email with your contact info. I’ll book an e-ticket for a greyhound and send it to you. Are you okay with three months’ probation? I think that’s enough time to see if you and Charlie get along.”

  “Wow. That’s very generous.” Ben would flip as soon as he found out Jamie was fake. But maybe... if he was a good enough actor... His mother had told him multiple times he had a talent for drama. Although she’d probably not meant it as a compliment.

  “Don’t worry about it, Janie. I’m sure we’ll get along. Do you have any questions?”

  He probably should, seeing as he was putting a lot of trust in a man he didn’t know. What if Ben didn’t have a niece and was only looking for a patsy for his secret dungeon? What if Ben wasn’t his real name? Then he remembered his dwindling money and that he didn’t want to spend Christmas on a lumpy couch. “Nope. No questions.”

  “All right. I’ll be in touch as soon as I get your Email. Don’t forget to send me those references. Bye, Janie.”

  As soon as the line went quiet, Jamie felt the blood drain from his face. “Shit. Where will I get fake references?”

  Chapter Two

  “Did you close Delilah’s gate?” Ben asked when he heard the squeaking kitchen door being shoved open with enough force to unhinge it. He shot a stern look over his shoulder at the devil who—miraculously—looked exactly like a cute little girl.

  Charlie rolled her eyes and yanked the purple hat off her short blonde hair. Her bold choice at the hairstylist in town last month had made Ben’s mother’s face blush with anger. Of course Ben had approved out of spite. He had to say, the short soft strands suited her, because now she resembled the mischievous imp she was.

  “Well?” Ben pocketed his phone and opened the dishwasher on the hunt for cutlery.

  “I always close the gate, Uncle Ben. I’m not a child.” She placed her elbow on the table and cradled her chin in her palm.

  Ben chuckled. He fished a butter-and-crumb-crusted knife out of the basket and grimaced. How did he always manage to forget to turn on the dishwasher? Damn, he desperately needed help around the house. “Charlie, you forgot to start the dishwasher this morning.” He met her bland expression.

  “Who’s the adult, huh?” She lifted her hands palms up and shrugged. “Grandma never made me do anything in the kitchen. She said I was unfit to handle her delicate dishes. And if you think I’ll clean for you because I’m a girl, I’ll kick you against the shin.”

  Shaking his head, Ben cleaned the knife under the faucet. Next he pulled out the fixings for sandwiches. “Well, grandma up and left for sunnier pastures.” Ben wasn’t bitter. Nope.

  “She said I could visit her in Florida and we’d go to Disneyland.” The way Charlie said it, it sounded as though Ben’s mother had threatened her with a visit at the dentist. “Princesses, Uncle Ben! It’s a nightmare. I’d rather stay here with you and Delilah.”

  Yeah, because a farmer in over his head and a p
et cow were the perfect companions for a twelve-year-old girl. Ben slapped the last sandwich together, carried the plate to the table, and sat down. “Lunch is ready.”

  Charlie eyed the dry-ish triangles critically before she picked one up and took a careful bite. Chewing slowly, she nodded in approval. “At least this time you added enough mustard.”

  God, the little food critic was an odd kid. “I got a phone call. Finally found a nanny.” He bit into his own sandwich, grimacing when he thought about how long he and Charlie had lived off the stuff since his mother had left. His niece needed healthy food, and Ben truly was no chef.

  Charlie’s blue eyes widened, and she wriggled in her seat. “Really? Cool.”

  “Her name is Janie. She sounded very nice.” Actually, her voice had sounded erotic enough that it had disturbed Ben for a second.

  Charlie’s face fell. “You got me a girl nanny? I hope she knows something about cows and horses. Can she drive a tractor? I want to do fun stuff with my nanny.” Her lip slid into a cute pout that Ben wasn’t insane enough to mention. “I bet she’ll only be interested in dolls and dresses.” Charlie’s little nose curled in disgust.

  Sighing, Ben ruffled her blonde hair. “Charlie, you’re a girl. And the last time grandma surprised you with a doll, you placed the poor plastic thing behind the back tire of my truck.”

  “She deserved to end flat as a pancake,” Charlie said with the conviction of a bloodthirsty sheriff of older days.

  Ben laughed. “What I mean is... not all women like dresses and dolls. Or cleaning, though I expect her to do it since I’m paying for it. I’m sure Janie will understand if you tell her what you enjoy doing. Better make a list for her.”

  “Hm.” She didn’t look convinced at all. “I hope she likes Delilah.”