2
Erin
I loved the kitchen in the Welsh mansion. What wasn’t to love? It was huge and bright and had counter space for days. It was a gourmet kitchen well thought out, which made cooking an absolute dream. It was the kitchen a real cook would absolutely go gaga over. The entire house on sprawling acreage outside of town was stunning. It had been built with about a million custom details to make it super comfortable and fancy by a megastar who thought he was going to retire to the country and have a cattle ranch. The guy lived in the house for a couple of weeks before he figured out he wasn’t a rancher and country living wasn’t for him. All of us in town knew it was the Dakota winter that sealed the deal. Only the toughest and most resilient could survive one of those.
The house had sat empty for years until the Welsh family came along. Now, it was a happy, family home getting put to good use, and I got to call the place home as well. It had taken me close to a month to learn the layout. There were about a million doors, and it was easy to get lost inside the sprawling home.
“Can I have the blue crayon?” Mitchell Welsh asked my daughter, Ellie.
I glanced over my shoulder to make sure all three of the kids were behaving themselves. My little girl had immediately taken to Mitchell and Mackenzie Welsh, my two young charges. They all got along really well, and it made my job as a nanny so much easier. I loved that I could work and have my seven-year-old daughter with me.
When the Welshes moved to town six months ago and put out an ad looking for a nanny, I jumped at the chance. Ellie and Mackenzie were both in the same grade, and Mitchell was just a year younger, which made it nice. They could all play together and keep one another occupied while I did things like cook dinner.
“You guys play nice,” I warned when I heard some grumbling coming from the table where they were all supposed to be drawing me a picture of their favorite thing.
“Mom, Mitchell has all the blue crayons,” Ellie complained.
“Mitchell, share please,” I said without turning around.
Thankfully, they were all good kids and the squabbles were minor and limited. When I had taken the job, I had been worried Ellie wouldn’t get along with the other kids or that the Welsh kids would be spoiled little monsters that were too difficult to take care of. They weren’t. They were great, and my life had changed for the better. I was finally able to move out of my father’s house as part of the job included an apartment over the four-car garage. It was my own little space with my daughter, something we had never had the luxury of enjoying in the past.
“Guys, in about three minutes, it’s going to be time to start on those homework sheets. Put away the crayons please,” I told them.
“But I’m not done,” Ellie whined.
“Three minutes,” I said again.
There were some muted complaints, but I wasn’t worried they wouldn’t do what they were told. They usually did with minimal resistance. I covered the lasagna and slid it in the oven before turning to the long center island to finish chopping the veggies for the salad I had made to go with it. I loved cooking and taking care of a big family. Back home, I used to make dinner for my dad and sometimes my brother.
That was another perk to living way out in the country: my brother wasn’t always in my face with his buddies beside him. I loved my brother, but damn, did he get on my nerves. It seemed like he was convinced he was my father and was constantly lecturing me and trying to tell me how to raise my daughter and how to live in general. Getting away from him had certainly helped our relationship.
I tossed the cherry tomatoes on the salad, covered it with plastic wrap, and stuck it in the huge double-door refrigerator to chill while the lasagna cooked. I quickly washed my hands and moved to the table where the kids were cleaning up the crayons.
“All right, who’s ready to play a little game?” I teased.
“Me!” they all yelled in unison.
I checked the time and realized Mrs. Welsh had been gone a while. She’d gone in search of “appropriately sophisticated wine” to go with the lasagna. Poor Mrs. Welsh was struggling to adjust to country living. She was used to the finer things in life, like Broadway shows, five-star restaurants, and spas whenever she felt like it. Living in the country had been a huge change for her, but she seemed to be handling it well.
“Okay, everyone on your feet and get in a line,” I directed the kids.
They all scrambled out of their chairs and lined up in the spacious kitchen area. The table was more of a craft play area than an actual eating area. The Welshes preferred to eat in the formal dining room. In fact, I considered the kitchen mostly my area. Mrs. Welsh wasn’t a huge fan of cooking in general.
I started the kids on a little math facts game. It got them up and helped worked out the wiggles before dinner while brushing up on their math. I had thought at one point that I wanted to be a teacher. I went to school and got my Associate’s degree in early childhood education, but raising Ellie on my own had made school difficult. I didn’t want to spend so much time away from her and had decided to put it on hold until she was a little older. I had been working in daycare facilities in order to keep her with me while earning enough money to support us. Even then, I was still stuck living in my dad’s house.
I heard the door open and close and assumed Mrs. Welsh was back from her wine hunt. The heavy footsteps told me otherwise. It was Mr. Welsh, which meant he would be ready for dinner. He liked to eat around the same time every night. Sometimes Ellie and I joined the family, but generally, dinner was my time with Ellie alone. We usually did puzzles, played one of her video games, or read. People often asked if I missed having a life, but in my opinion, I had a better life than most. I loved my little girl.
“All right, guys, head outside to play. You’ve got fifteen minutes, and then it will be time to wash up,” I told them.
“We get lasagna!” Ellie cheered, clapping her hands before racing out the French doors that opened into a backyard that was essentially a private playground for the kids with damn near every toy imaginable.
Mr. Welsh walked into the kitchen; his nose turned up as he smelled the air. “Is that lasagna?” he asked.
I smiled. “It is.”
“Thank you. I think we’ll have to give you a raise. You know you’re not expected to cook and clean,” he said with a friendly smile.
“I don’t mind. I like cooking, especially in this kitchen,” I told him.
“Is my wife in?” he asked.
“No, she ran to the store in search of wine to go with dinner.”
He nodded. “I have a guest coming for dinner tonight. I assume there is plenty?”
I softly laughed. “You know there always is. I make enough for a small army.”
“Great. I have a conference call. I’ll be in my study,” he said and walked out of the kitchen.
I figured I had better get the table set, knowing Mr. Welsh was likely entertaining a potential investor. I wanted him to succeed. I liked my job and I liked the family and didn’t want his business to fail and them to leave town. I grabbed the dishes and carried them into the dining room, setting it in a semi-formal style. As I walked past the windows facing the backyard, I checked on the kids before grabbing another load of dishes and the necessary condiments and carrying them back into the dining room.
I heard the doorbell ring just as I was pulling out the lasagna from the oven. I quickly put it on the stove, deposited the oven mitts on the counter, and headed for the foyer. Mrs. Welsh wasn’t home, and Mr. Welsh was on the phone. That left me to act as head of the house or butler, one of the many hats I wore.
I opened the door, prepared to greet the dinner guest, and froze. My eyes had to be playing tricks on me. There was no way Jacob Miner was standing on the other side of the door. I blinked, wondering why I had conjured him up after all these years.
He was looking at me with complete shock. I imagined I probably had a similar expression. “Jacob?” I breathed the word, the sound
barely audible.
I couldn’t believe he was standing there. He was three feet in front of me looking handsome as ever. No, more handsome. He was a man now. He had those same hazel eyes that could flash blue to green with his mood. There were a few wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, but they were so much the same. His light brown hair was cut short, much shorter than it had been in the days we’d been together. There was the slightest hint of stubble on the stern jawline, giving him a rugged yet sexy look that was making my belly feel very warm.
He was staring at me, and the surprise at seeing me was evident on his face. I had a flashback to the last time I’d seen him. Neither of us had known I was pregnant at the time. One day, he was gone without a word. When I had found out I was pregnant, I had no idea where to even look for him. His cell phone had been shut off, and no one around town knew where he’d disappeared to. It didn’t take me long to figure out I was going to be a single mom. At that point, I decided to keep the identify of my baby’s daddy a secret.
“Erin Maxwell.” He said my full name as if he wasn’t sure it was really me.
His voice rolled over me, sparking more memories. I remembered what it felt like to be in his strong arms, his body over mine. I remembered everything. The way he had tasted, the softness of his lips and the hardness of his body. Staring at him now, I suspected he was far more solid than he had been in his youth. It sent me down a dangerous path as I remembered our last time together. We’d snuck out and lain together under the stars.
I heard a squeal come from the backyard. My initial reaction was it was just the kids having fun. A split second later I went into full panic as I stared at the man who’d fathered my child and had no idea. My eyes widened and my heartbeat picked up. I debated slamming the door in his face but remembered he was Mr. Welsh’s guest.
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A Note from the Author
Thank for you taking the time to read my latest release.
I hope you loved reading my story, as much as I enjoyed writing it.
It would mean the world to me if you could take some time to leave a quick review for this book. Reviews allow me to understand how my readers truly feel, and they keep me improving.
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- Natasha L. Black
Also By Natasha L. Black
Here are a list of my previous releases, some of which that went to the top 100 of all of Amazon.
Bad Boy’s Secret Baby
My Ex’s Secret Baby
Let’s Pretend
Double Dirty
Men in Charge : A Contemporary Romance Box Set
One Lucky Girl : A Reverse Harem Boxset
Saving Sky
Protecting Her
Forbidden Daddy
Pretend I’m Yours
Redemption
Sweet Tooth
Training the Rookie
Pretend You’re Mine
Double Trouble
The Cabin
Cuffed to my Roomies
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Faking It Page 18