by Whitley Cox
10
They were five weeks into the new arrangement, and thankfully, Aaron, Isobel and Sophie had finally fallen into a bit of a routine.
Sophie was proving to be a very easy and agreeable baby, as Mason and Mark could attest to, as apparently their children were not. Or at least that’s what Aaron had come back from poker night saying, a big, cocky grin on his face.
Isobel was tired, but she knew that was to be expected, and it was giving her a good idea what motherhood would be like when she finally had children of her own.
It was Wednesday afternoon, and they were in the final day of September. The first half of September had been blistering hot, but when Isobel threw open the blinds that morning, the day was overcast, and her phone said the temperature was a pleasant sixty-four degrees.
The door chimed to The Lilac and Lavender Bistro as Isobel propped it open with her foot and wheeled the big, fancy jogging stroller inside.
It was after the lunch rush, so there were only a handful of patrons in the small seating area.
“Be right with you,” called a familiar voice from the back.
“Take your time,” Isobel replied, her eyes going wide as she took in all the decadent confections and desserts in the glass case next to the cash register.
“Iz, is that you?” A dark, curly head popped out from behind the corner. Paige smiled, her golden-brown eyes sparkling. “About time you showed up.” She made her way around the counter and hugged Isobel. “I can’t thank you enough for the beautiful logo. We’re getting so many compliments on it.” She pointed to the logo that had recently been painted onto the front door.
Isobel also noticed that the logo—two sprigs of lavender and a droopy lilac bunch over The L & L Bistro—was stitched onto the top left corner of Paige’s chef’s coat. “I’m so glad you like it.”
Paige was all smiles. “I love it.” She clapped her hands together. “Now let’s fill your belly. On the house, as promised.”
Isobel smiled at the same time her stomach rumbled.
The door behind them chimed.
Paige smiled again but also rolled her eyes. “The usual?”
Isobel turned to see a beautiful sandy-blonde haired woman in ballet attire. She looked a touch ill. “You know me well. And some of that ginger iced tea too, please.” Paige nodded, then retreated back to the kitchen.
The newcomer made a face and then sat down in the nearest chair. “Morning sickness should be gone after lunch, no?”
Isobel smiled sympathetically. “Oh crap. I’m sorry. But congratulations.”
The woman’s green eyes flicked up from Isobel’s face to the stroller. She stood up to take a peek at the sleeping Sophie. “How old?”
“Three months, I think.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know how old your baby is?”
Paige returned. “It’s not her baby. It’s Aaron’s. Or Aaron’s niece, I should say.” She handed the woman a tall glass of the ginger iced tea. “This is Tori’s sister, Isobel.”
Understanding immediately dawned on her face as she sat back down in the seat closest to the front door and took a long sip of the iced tea.
“I’m the nanny,” Isobel confirmed. “She was born July twenty-first but was four weeks early, so her corrected age is around eight weeks.” She counted on her fingers. “Yeah, eight and half weeks. Sorry.”
Paige turned to face Isobel. “Iz, this is Violet, Adam’s girlfriend and Mitch’s sister.”
Ah, okay, it was all starting to make sense now. She’d heard about all these people, but only met a handful of them.s
The door chimed again, and all three women turned to see Tori stroll in with Gabe in tow. “Hey! Is this a meeting of the minds? A meeting of the better halves?”
Gabe ran off to the back corner where a small table full of toys was set up, and he went to work stacking red blocks. Tori took a seat across from Violet. “Baby still giving you grief?”
Violet nodded, wiping the back of her wrist across her mouth. “There’s no reprieve. Every minute of every day, I feel like I’m seasick.”
Paige made a face that said she understood all too well. “Yep, that’s what my pregnancy with Mira was like. Freakin’ awful. Bet you’re having a girl.” She bent down and retrieved something sinfully delicious from the glass case, plopped it onto a plate and brought it over to Violet. “One caramel apple fritter.”
Violet smiled at her. “Thank you.”
“Is it wrong that I’m excited to see you get fat?” Tori asked, standing back up, playfully hip-checking Isobel on her way to check out the glass case.
Violet dove into the fritter, but her eyes said all the words she couldn’t.
Paige burst out laughing. “I have to admit, I’m kind of looking forward to that perfect dancer’s body getting all bloated and round too.”
Violet swallowed. “You two are bitches.”
Tori pointed at something interesting in the glass case. “You still have lilac churros left?” Her eyes grew big and hungry. “You never have any left by the time I get here.”
Paige moved her eyebrows up and down. “I may have tucked a few aside with the assumption that you and Gabe would be stopping by.” She bent down again and retrieved the churros, placing them on a plate and sliding them across the counter.
Tori giggled with glee, grabbed the plate and, like a chipmunk with nuts, ran to the table with Violet and took a giant bite. She shut her eyes and moaned. “This is almost better than sex.” Her eyes opened. “Notice I said almost? Because there really isn’t anything better than sex with Mark.”
Violet licked caramel off her thumb. “I can’t even think about sex right now. I feel disgusting.” Her eyes flared and focused on Paige. “I don’t even want to hear how the sex with my brother is dynamite. I see the smile on his face when he gets home. I don’t need the details.”
Paige bit her lip. “Well, you’re sleeping with my ex-husband, so … ”
Violet burped, her face going an unsettling shade of puce. “Not currently I’m not.”
Isobel’s eyes had just continuously bounced back and forth among the three women. Tori had filled her in a bit about the tangled web of Paige, Violet, Adam and Mitch, but hearing it firsthand just made her brain hurt.
“What can I get you?” Paige asked, drawing Isobel’s attention away from the family tree in her head. “Your sister got the last of the candied lilac churros, but I still have a couple of lavender ones, as well as lavender scones, some sfogliatelles and white chocolate pound cake cupcakes.”
Isobel’s mouth watered. “I can’t decide. Everything sounds so good.”
“Or I can make you something savory. The menu board is behind me up there. Anything you like.”
Her stomach rumbled as she read the words lemongrass and ginger prawn taco with homemade apple and cabbage slaw. “I’ll get the prawn taco,” she said before she could change her mind or risk a stroke from her inability to decide. Normally she was better at choosing things. She’d close her eyes and let her finger do the work.
Paige’s eyes lit up. “Excellent choice. I’ll be right back.”
“Pull up a seat,” Tori said, shoving the last bite of the churro into her mouth. She pushed out a chair, and Isobel wheeled the stroller closer and sat down.
“You’re not going to share any of that with Gabe?” Isobel asked, checking behind her to make sure Gabe was okay in the play corner. His block tower had reached an impressive height.
Tori grabbed her water bottle from her purse and took a sip. “He doesn’t like them. Paige will give him a ‘cookie’ with red sprinkles before we leave, and he’ll be over the moon.” She made air quotes when she said cookie. “They’re actually really healthy, with like a quarter cup of coconut sugar or something in the entire recipe. She tosses in chia and flax and a bunch of other healthy stuff. But then she rolls them in sprinkles so the kids can’t see all the extra stuff.”
“They’re a kid favorite with all my da
nce students,” Violet chimed in. “Not sweet enough for me, but then I’ve always liked my sugar. And now that’s all this baby will let me keep down. Sugar and pickles.” She shook her head. “How am I supposed to grow a healthy human eating that?”
“So.” Tori placed her elbows on the table, linked her fingers together and rested her chin on her fingers. “How’s life with the hot, broody boss? It feels like forever since I’ve seen you or talked to you. Feels weird.”
It definitely felt weird. Normally, Isobel and Tori never went more than a day or two without seeing each other. Now they were coming up on a couple of weeks.
Isobel groaned and averted her eyes. “They’re fine.”
Violet sat forward. “Hot, broody boss? Oh, do tell.”
Isobel shot her sister a look that said she was not happy with Tori’s little outburst. “My boss—Sophie’s uncle—is incredibly good-looking. Like tattooed, muscly, dog tags, scruff, bright blue eyes, grunty, that sexy penis-line thingy on his hips—hot.”
Violet’s eyes widened. “Go on.”
Isobel rolled her eyes. “The first few days were tough. He was really distant and angry. But I get it. He just lost his sister, and now he has to not only grieve but raise her baby. That’s a lot to take in. But now … ” She watched Paige walk across the restaurant with her meal.
“What’d I miss?” Paige asked, plunking a beautifully put-together plate down in front of Isobel.
“We’re hearing all about Isobel’s sexy boss and how they’re having a hard time keeping their hands off each other,” Violet said, thanking Paige for her second iced tea.
Paige grabbed another chair and brought it to the table. “Okay, dish.”
Ah, damn it.
Isobel groaned, then glared at Tori, who was all smiles. “We’ve done a fine job keeping our hands off each other, thank you. I don’t think he’s attracted to me that way, anyway. Problem is, I don’t even know if he likes me. And not in a romantic like-like way, but even in just a friendly way.”
All three women’s brows pinched.
“What do you mean?” Tori asked.
Isobel took a bite of her wrap and shut her eyes just like Violet had. It was incredible. She chewed her food slowly, savoring every flavor.
“I’m about ready to take that away,” Violet said. “I have another dance class soon, and I’m not leaving here until I hear everything.”
Isobel swallowed, took a sip of her sister’s water bottle and then continued, albeit reluctantly. “He’s just so weird. Not mean or anything, but not super chatty or friendly either. But crazy polite. Like ridiculously polite and proper. It’s kind of freaking me out.”
The three women exchanged curious but also knowing looks.
“Seems to me he likes you,” Violet said, sipping her ginger iced tea.
Isobel shook her head. “Nope. I’ve been around the block enough to know when a guy is attracted to me. I thought he might too, at first. You know, the old ponytail-pulling thing.”
All the women groaned.
That was not something any of them would teach their daughters. Violence of any kind was not a way of showing attraction. Society was so fucked up.
“But then he went from being rude and angry to overly polite and distant. Aaron Steele is not attracted to me. Like once Sophie’s in bed, we don’t sit up and chat or anything, get to know each other—as friends. He retires to bed, goes out for a run or goes to the garage to work on God only knows what. Maybe paperwork or something.”
“And what do you do?” Paige asked.
“I work on my graphic design commissions. So it’s win-win, I suppose. But it just feels weird, you know. I live in this man’s house, cook his meals, clean, take care of his niece like she’s my own child, and he treats me like the help.”
“But you are the help,” Violet said slowly.
Isobel blew out a frustrated breath. “I know. I don’t know what I want, but I know it’s not what’s going on right now. We have a routine, but it’s so businesslike. He knows nothing about me and hasn’t really given me any openings to ask about him. I have no idea who I’m working for.”
“What do you want from him?” Tori asked. “The man is grieving. He’s also trying to run a business and figure out how to transition from uncle to father. He’s going through a lot.”
Isobel pouted and took another bite of her wrap. “I know. It’s just with all the other families I’ve nannied for in the past, the parents made a point of getting to know me. We bonded, just like I bonded with their children. I eventually became another member of the family.”
“Eventually,” all three women said at the same time.
“It’s only been a few weeks. Give him time.” Paige reached across the table and rested her hand on Isobel’s.
“But I also think he wants to bang you,” Tori said. “You may think he’s not interested in you, but I saw a look in his eye that first day I met him. There was something there. A twinkle or whatever you want to call it when he looked at you.”
Violet and Paige both snorted laughs.
“And you definitely want to bang him,” Isobel’s sister added. “And who wouldn’t? That man is fine.”
Paige licked her lips. “We need to plan an ambush or something on poker night so that we can meet this mysterious new dad. See just how hot he really is.”
Violet cleared her throat. “Ahem.” Playfully, she planted her hands on her hips. “And what about Mitch?”
Paige’s grin was saucy and mischievous. “Hey, it doesn’t matter how you get your appetite as long as you go home to eat.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down playfully.
Tori tossed her head back and laughed. “I love it. I’m going to remember that one. Repeat it to Mark after a barbecue with Mason and baby Willow makes me all hot and bothered. That man is damn fine.”
Paige and Violet nodded.
Isobel’s lips twisted in thought. “I thought at first he was still upset with me for snapping at him a few weeks ago, and that’s why he was all closed off, but his actions would prove otherwise.”
Tori slammed both her hands down on the table. “You snapped at him?”
“He said assembling a crib was a man’s job.”
Eyes rolled around the table, and lips made shocked little O’s.
“Oh no he didn’t,” Violet said with a headshake.
“I put him in his place and then some. Don’t worry.”
Paige’s nod was curt, her brows pinched. “Good.”
“He even came home a few days later with a baby tool belt for Sophie and a onesie that said Future Handyman, but with a Sharpie he’d added one of those little upward arrows and a W and O in front so it read Future HandyWoman.”
They all laughed.
“Well, at least he’s learning. Turns out you can teach an old dog new tricks.” Tori chuckled. Her eyes followed Gabe as he carefully made his way down past the tables toward them. He stopped a mere six inches in front of her. “Hey, buddy. Ready to go?”
“Toooori,” he said, his face rosy and his smile wide.
“You want your cookie for the road?” Paige asked, standing up and moving back behind the dessert case.
Gabe nodded and followed her.
“Okay, you tell me which one you want. Just point, and I’ll grab it.”
Tori turned back to Isobel. “How often has Uncle John come in handy over these past few weeks?” Her smile was all too telling.
Isobel glanced at the still sleeping Sophie. “More often than I’d care to admit.”
Tori laughed. “Been there, sister. You are screwed, and not in the good way.”
Isobel blew out a breath. “Don’t I know it.”
11
As Isobel was walking back to her car with Sophie snoozing once again in the stroller, she stopped in front of what looked to be a new business. It was bright inside but fairly open concept and sparse with the decor. There were several rooms, all sectioned off by walls of acrylic glass, and inside were
tables and stacks of dishes, glassware, china—all things breakable. She glanced up at the sign—The Rage Room: You break it because you paid to.
Without hesitating, she opened the door and awkwardly maneuvered the big stroller inside, hoping to God that the bing of the door didn’t wake Soph.
A gorgeous woman with tattoo sleeves, a bright shock of hot pink hair, two hoops in one nostril and impeccably done smoky eye makeup stepped out from the back. Her smile took her from gorgeous to stunning. “Hi, I’m Luna. Welcome to The Rage Room. You here to let out some fury?”
Isobel’s eyes went wide and her smile even wider. “I’d like to book a room, please.”
Aaron was just getting into his truck to head home for the night when a text message popped up on his phone. It was Isobel.
I have a surprise for you. Please meet me and Sophie here.
Her message was followed with a map and address attachment. But there was no venue name.
He texted back, frustrated at her cryptic message.
I’m tired. Just wanna shower, eat and go to bed.
She sent him a picture of her and a kind of smiling Sophie. Isobel had a fake pouty face, and Sophie looked like she was getting ready to shit herself.
She texted back.
Pleeeeeeaaaase! It’ll be worth it, I promise.
He grumbled, punched the coordinates into his GPS and started his truck. It was only a ten-minute drive from his jobsite and on the way home. She really was the least demanding, least inconveniencing person alive.
He tossed the truck into first gear and pulled out onto the road, hitting voice to text. “Be there in five.”
His phone pinged a minute later to reveal her face yet again, but this time she was smiling.
He was tempted to make that picture the wallpaper on his phone.
Over the last month, he had remained as professional as humanly possible when it came to his drop-dead fucking gorgeous nanny. He was polite, courteous and above all professional as fuck. Sure, he tugged one off nearly every night in the shower, but if it meant keeping Isobel as his nanny and not having a lawsuit on his hands, he’d suffer through. Besides, she didn’t seem to be interested in him that way anyway. She was so busy with Sophie, going to baby groups and the story time at the library. It seemed like they were out and about every day, all day. The woman was exhausted by the time 8 p.m. rolled around, retiring to her room and not coming out unless Sophie squawked.