Justin liked her, too, in a way that was potentially problematic.
After shaving and combing his hair, he dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved cotton shirt for work at Mercy Medical Clinic. There were no surgeries scheduled for today, but in the case of an emergency, he had scrubs in the office. When he was ready, he walked upstairs to spend as much time as possible with his son before leaving for the day.
At the top of the stairs he heard Emma’s voice and Kyle’s chattering. The nursery door was open the way it always was in the morning, so he walked in as he always did. But however much the scene was routine and familiar, everything felt different.
The baby was on the changing table with a clean diaper already in place. Emma had him in an undershirt and was in the process of sliding his arms into a one-piece terry-cloth romper. Her back was to him and she didn’t know he was there yet.
“Hey, big boy,” she crooned. “Did you have a good sleep?”
The baby was holding an orange-and-yellow plastic toy car and he clapped it against his other hand as he babbled his response.
“I’m so glad to hear it. You look well rested and I didn’t hear a peep. I was listening and I’m right there if you need me. Just say, ‘Hey, Em, some help here.’”
Justin moved a little farther into the room, but quietly. Not to nanny-cam her, just reluctant to interrupt this quiet, happy scene. He could see her profile and knew she was smiling. His son was grinning back, proudly showing off four top and a matching number of bottom baby teeth.
“So, what’s the plan for today, Mr. Kyle? Are you going to help with laundry? Maybe the house cleaning? I know. How about you dust the toys in your basket? That would be a big help.” She put a firm hand on his belly to keep him from rolling off as he unexpectedly squirmed toward her. “Not so fast. And just where do you think you’re going, mister? It was a good try. Points for that. But we’re not quite finished here.”
She encircled his chubby leg in her fingers then bent slightly and kissed the bottom of his foot. He started to giggle and there was a smile in her voice when she said, “Are you ticklish?”
This time the smooch on his foot was accompanied by a loud smacking noise and Kyle laughed, a consuming sound that came from deep inside. Emma laughed, too, and repeated the action several more times, eliciting the same happy response.
Justin smiled at their play and would challenge anyone to keep a straight face under the same circumstances. A baby’s laughter could enthrall a room full of adults. That was just a given and didn’t explain his own feelings about the woman making his son laugh.
Something weird curled and tightened in Justin’s gut and made this morning different from every other morning since he’d moved to Blackwater Lake. It was nothing like the other mornings he’d come upstairs to see the nanny caring for his son. But Sylvia was the grandmotherly type and Emma wasn’t. That changed everything.
The sweet sound of her amusement mingling with his son’s mesmerized him, and her fresh, wholesome beauty made it hard to turn away. In her jeans and soft powder-blue sweater, she was also dressed for work but on her it didn’t look like work. Until yesterday, Sylvia had been there to blunt this reaction, and now all he could do was hope it would go away. Unfortunately, if anything, he felt it more sharply now that they were the only two adults in the house.
Speaking of adults, it was time to start acting like the one in charge. He moved close enough for their arms to brush and the smell of her to drift inside him. “Hey, there, you two.”
Emma glanced up and smiled. “Good morning.”
“Hey, buddy.” He leaned down and kissed his son on the forehead. The boy babbled and held out his car. “I see. Did you sleep okay?”
The answer in baby talk sounded very much as if he were carrying on a conversation. Justin knew the chatter was the beginning of speech and his son was right on target developmentally. Absolutely normal. His goal was to maintain the average and ordinary, but the fact that his son would never have a mother already changed the usual domestic dynamic, and that bothered him. His job was all about fixing and there was nothing he could do to make this right for his son.
The child held out his arms to be picked up and Justin said, “Just a minute, buddy. You have to get dressed first.”
“My fault,” Emma said. “I got sidetracked. He’s just too much fun to play with. I don’t want you to be late because I didn’t stick to the schedule.”
“No problem. I’d much rather he’s happy. That’s the number-one priority.”
She nodded then quickly and efficiently grabbed one foot at a time and slid each one into the legs of the outfit. “I’ll put clothes on him later, but this is more comfortable for now.”
“Sounds practical to me.” When she finished, he picked up the baby and hugged him close, loving the smell of fresh-scented soap and little boy. He nuzzled the small neck until the child squealed with laughter. “I’ll carry him downstairs.”
“Okay. I’ll get breakfast going. The coffee is ready.” She stopped in the doorway. “Is there anything special you’d like?”
You.
The thought popped unexpectedly into his mind with such intensity that it startled him. He swallowed once because his mouth was dry, then said, “Surprise me.”
“Okay.”
Mission accomplished, he thought, before she’d even had a chance to get downstairs. He looked into his son’s gray eyes and smiled ruefully. “So, this is the new normal, kid. We just have to get used to it.”
And by “we,” he meant himself.
He settled the baby on his forearm and carried him downstairs and into the kitchen. There was a steaming mug of coffee sitting on the long, beige-and-black granite beside the pot.
That was something Sylvia had never done for him.
“Thanks,” he said, grabbing it with his free hand.
“You’re welcome.” She glanced up from the bowl of raw eggs she was stirring with a wire whisk. “I’ll put Kyle in his high chair.”
“That’s all right. I’ve got him and your hands are full.”
The chair was set up beside the oak table in the kitchen nook that had a spectacular view of Blackwater Lake below. It was one of the things he liked best about this house. He put his mug down and settled his son, then belted him in before adjusting the tray for comfort. On the table beside it was a plastic dish of dry cereal and he set it in front of the little guy, who eagerly dug in. This was the established routine that he’d learned worked best. Keep Kyle happy so Justin could get breakfast in before work. After he left, Emma would feed him other appropriate nutritional stuff to balance his diet.
Right now she was scrambling eggs in a pan and folded in sliced mushrooms, tomatoes and grated cheese. There was a blueberry muffin sitting by his plate. Obviously she’d been downstairs already to prepare everything before Kyle was awake.
“You’re very organized,” he commented. “Did you get up before God to do this?”
She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Almost. It doesn’t take long without interruptions. And this morning your son slept like a baby and made me look good.”
“I just want to say that grabbing breakfast on the way to work is never a problem if he needs anything. The schedule is flexible.”
“Understood,” she said. “But there’s always a contingency plan so you shouldn’t have to.”
“Like this tantalizing muffin on the table?”
“Exactly. I hope you like it.”
He lifted the small plate and sniffed. “Smells good.”
“I baked them yesterday afternoon while Kyle was napping.”
“From scratch?”
“Yes.” She used a spatula to lift the eggs onto a plate and brought it to him. “I hope this passes the taste test, too.”
He sat beside his son’s high
chair and cut the muffin in half. Although there was butter on the table, the cakey inside was so moist he didn’t think it would need any. The bite he took told him he was right. In silence, he chewed and savored the sweet, moist flavor.
Emma hovered close, waiting. “Okay. I can’t stand it. Silence makes me nervous. If you hate it I need to know. I prefer honesty.”
“Hate it?” He looked at her. “This is quite possibly the best blueberry muffin I’ve ever had, and I can’t believe you didn’t use a mix.”
“I wouldn’t lie.” Her smile slipped and a sort of bruised look slid into her eyes.
Again he thought that something or someone had made the truth very important to her. “I was teasing, Emma. This is so good that if you wanted another career as a pastry chef I’d lose a very good nanny.”
“I’m glad you like it.” She smiled. “Hopefully, the eggs will hold up to the same scrutiny.”
“I’m sure they will.” He could already tell by the smell that they’d be delicious.
“Sylvia gave me lots of pointers and I took notes about your preferences. And what Kyle currently likes best. She also made sure I have her cell number and email address in case there are any questions. I’m doing my best to make the transition as seamless as possible.”
“Mission accomplished.”
So far she was superbly fulfilling all the objectives for which she’d been hired. His son was happy. Her cooking was really good. It wasn’t her fault that the changeover could have been more seamless if she looked like Mrs. Doubtfire. If not for his blasted fascination with her, she’d be the perfect nanny.
But he’d learned the hard way that there was no such thing as the perfect woman.
* * *
Justin would be home any minute and Emma was carrying Kyle around the kitchen on her hip because it was the time of day when he was too fussy to play independently. He just wanted to be held and nothing would distract him.
“I don’t mind telling you that I’m a little nervous about this first dinner on my own with you and your daddy.”
Kyle looked at her then rubbed his eyes, a sure sign he was nearly at the end of his rope.
“I know, sweetie. Even after a good long nap, a busy boy like you is just plain tired.” She hugged him a little closer and her heart melted a little more at the way he burrowed against her. “The thing is, my man, your dad hasn’t seen you all day and he works pretty hard. All for you, although you should never feel guilty about it. If you could hang in a little longer so he can spend some quality time with you before your bedtime, that would be pretty awesome. Okay?”
He grinned a gooey, wet grin, then babbled two syllables that sounded suspiciously like, “Okay.”
Emma glanced around the kitchen and ticked things off the list in her mind. The chicken was in the Crock-Pot, a recipe that included vegetables and potatoes all together. She didn’t want to tackle anything too time-consuming and labor-intensive in the final prep stages. With the little guy constantly on the move, it was a scenario with disaster written all over it.
The table was set for one adult and the high chair was ready for one baby. While Sylvia was there, they’d all eaten together, but without the older woman’s presence Emma was concerned that it would feel too intimate. Justin Flint wasn’t her first employer, but he was the only single dad she’d ever worked for and the dynamic was awkward. At least for her.
She found him charming and attractive and under different circumstances would probably have flirted, even though she’d sworn off men. Discovering that your fiancé was a cheating weasel tended to make a girl do that. The thing was, she wanted to flirt with Justin, but that was completely unprofessional. It was a constant strain to suppress the natural inclination.
Every time he was in the room, butterflies swarmed in her stomach. She was clumsy and tongue-tied. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she was also a big fat fraud. Even though her mission in Blackwater Lake was delicate and intensely personal, it seemed wrong not to give Justin all that information before he’d made the decision to hire her. She would do her very best for this child and hope Justin wouldn’t regret his decision. This job was vital in order to buy her time to decide how to handle her private situation.
The front door opened and closed, telling her that the employer she’d just been thinking about was here. A small twist of anticipation registered before she could shut it down.
She smiled at Kyle. “Your daddy’s home.”
“Da— Da—” He bounced in her arms and squirmed to get down.
Emma set him on the floor and instantly he got on all fours and crawled out of the kitchen as fast as he could go. She followed, not to intrude on a private father-son moment, but to make sure he made it to the safety of his dad’s strong arms. Getting sidetracked on the way by something potentially harmful was always a possibility. She wouldn’t let him out of her sight until she knew this house and all its baby hazards like the back of her hand. Assuming, of course, that she was here long enough to know it that well.
“Hey, buddy.” In the entryway Justin had set his laptop case on the table, then grabbed up his son for a hug and kiss. “How are you?”
He lifted the baby high over his head in those strong arms she’d just been thinking about. Emma knew Kyle was sturdy and solid and holding him up like that took a lot of strength. Justin made it look easy. And the obvious love he had for his son would soften a heart harder than hers.
He settled the boy on his forearm and smiled at her. “Hi.”
Some part of her brain was still functioning and she came up with a brilliant response to his greeting. “Hi.”
“Something smells good.”
“Chicken, potatoes, vegetables. All in the Crock-Pot.” She folded her arms over her chest, an instinctively protective gesture. “It’s not fancy but should taste good.”
“Best offer I’ve had all day. I’m starved.”
Emma wasn’t sure, but she thought he was looking at her mouth when he said that. And there was something compelling and intense in his eyes, but probably that was just her imagination.
“It will be ready as soon as I thicken the juice for a gravy.”
“Lead the way. I’ll bring this guy.”
Emma was more than a little self-conscious as he followed her to the kitchen. She shouldn’t be; she was just the nanny. She’d started new jobs before and knew that this wasn’t the usual new-job nerves. Doing her best to ignore the feeling, she headed for the Crock-Pot sitting beside the cooktop.
Behind her he said, “There’s only one plate on the table.”
She finished putting meat and vegetables in small casserole dishes on a warming tray then glanced at him. “I thought you’d like alone time with Kyle.”
“And are you planning to eat?”
“Of course.”
“When and where?” he persisted.
“Upstairs. In my room.”
His eyes narrowed. “Except on her day off, Sylvia had dinner with us every night.”
“I know. But...” There was no way to put this into words that he would understand. In her interview, he’d been straightforward about the fact that he wasn’t looking for anything other than a nanny. To adequately explain why she wouldn’t eat dinner with him, she would have to confess her attraction. Other than throwing herself at him, that was probably the fastest way to lose this job.
Justin was staring at her. “It just feels wrong to me for you to segregate yourself. Too Upstairs, Downstairs.” He shook his head. “Or like you’re an orphan in a Charles Dickens book.”
That was ironic. Not only wasn’t she an orphan, she had more family than she knew what to do with.
He settled Kyle in the high chair then met her gaze. “Emma, I’d like you to have dinner with us.”
“Is that an order?”
; “Of course not. It just feels...” He shrugged, as if he didn’t know how to put it into words either. “I’m trying to maintain as much family atmosphere as possible for Kyle.”
“I understand.” And she did. “Thank you.”
“I’ll set another place at the table,” he said.
“Okay. Thanks.”
She felt pleased yet awkward at the same time. And guilty that this extraordinarily nice man didn’t know the whole truth. A few minutes later the two of them were sitting in their respective places at a right angle to each other with Kyle in the middle. Emma cut chicken, cooked carrots and potato into pieces big enough for the baby to pick up with his chubby fingers but small enough so that he wouldn’t choke.
Justin filled his own plate and took a bite of meat. “This is as good as it smells.”
“I’m glad.” She spooned some of everything for herself and tasted a little bit of each, satisfied that it was all right. “It should fill you up.”
“A hearty meal for a cold night.” He glanced at his son, who was busy with his food, part eating part playing. “Kyle approves, too.”
“Do you like chicken salad?”
“Yeah.” He met her gaze. “Why?”
“I can make some with the leftovers. A little celery, cucumber. Maybe dill pickle chopped up?”
“Sounds good to me.”
She knew from her two weeks of orientation with Sylvia that he sometimes took lunch with him to Mercy Medical Clinic. “I can make a sandwich for you if you’d like. Maybe a piece of fruit and macaroni salad.”
“If it’s not too much trouble, that would be great.”
“I’m happy to do it.” Emma was being well paid for her work, but it didn’t feel like work because she wanted to please him. That’s what bothered her the most.
Justin chewed a carrot then glanced at his son, who had little orange pieces of vegetable all over his face. “Tell me what he did today.”
Finding Family...and Forever? Page 3