“I think we have a yes vote,” Emma said.
“Okay, then, let’s get this over with.” He grinned. “What I meant to say was, let’s get this show on the road.”
The three of them left the house through the downstairs laundry room, which had a connecting door to the garage. Justin hit the automatic opener and the door went up, letting in the sunshine. He settled his son in the car seat of his SUV and she set the diaper bag on the rear passenger floor before getting in the front. Justin slid in behind the wheel, started the car and backed out of the driveway.
Truthfully, Emma would rather spend her afternoon off with Justin and Kyle than have time to herself. She had acquaintances in Blackwater Lake, but friendship took a while and putting in time and effort could be pointless. Her future was uncertain; she didn’t know how long she would stay.
Six weeks had passed since Justin hired her and so far her crush on him showed no sign of letting up. But he’d made it clear that his feelings were more in the big-brother camp. She still didn’t know whether or not to tell the Crawfords she was their daughter and had been so busy with her job, she hadn’t had time to make a decision on the issue. Probably she was procrastinating, but for now she put it on the back burner.
Justin drove around the lake and headed out of town, where he guided the SUV onto the highway. Emma glanced into the rear seat and smiled.
“He’s asleep already,” she said. It had been her idea to leave the house around nap time to make sure the baby was rested for shopping. “How far is it to the mall?”
“About forty-five minutes.”
“Good.”
“Really?” He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. “Most women would be euphoric if shopping was in their backyard.”
“I’m not most women.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
His voice sounded a little raspy and wrapped in male appreciation, although a quick glance didn’t confirm. There was a muscle jumping in his jaw, but dark aviator sunglasses hid the expression in his eyes. Did he just pay her a compliment? Her own feelings being so close to the tipping point, she decided it was best not to go there.
“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I have nothing against shopping. And this is my afternoon off, but I still have my nanny hat on.”
“It looks good on you.” He glanced over for a moment, but his expression was still impossible to read.
Again she heard huskiness in his tone, but chalked it up to altitude and cold air. That was safer.
“My point is, and I do have one,” she persisted, “Kyle will get in his nap. As we discussed. That means this expedition will go smoothly. Our little angel—”
The words sank in and she stopped, appalled that she’d said that to the man who’d made it clear the first time they met that he didn’t want to be a we, us or our. “I meant to say your little angel. That wasn’t flirting, I swear. It’s just that I’m attached to him. In a professional way. Really, Justin, that was an unprofessional thing for me to say and you shouldn’t be concerned that—”
“Take a breath.” He slid her a brief look and the corners of his mouth curved up. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you care about him.”
“I do, but—”
“No buts. I have an idea. You’re off and I’m off. For the rest of the day we’ll just be friends shopping together.”
The tension in Justin’s voice had disappeared, leaving behind a teasing and carefree mood. So, for today, she was making a conscious and deliberate choice to relax and have fun.
The problem was, it would be easy to cross the invisible line into personal territory and that was a no-no. There was a risk to letting go of traditional boss-employee roles and sliding into something more casual. But to say that out loud would lead to a place too delicate to navigate without revealing her simmering feelings.
“Okay,” she said. “Friends for the afternoon.”
Forty-five minutes later, when Justin drove into the mall parking lot, she couldn’t believe they were already here. She’d had so much friendly fun talking with him, the time had flown.
As she’d done every few minutes, she glanced in the backseat. “He’s still asleep. Maybe I can get him out without waking him and he can have a little more rest.”
“Okay.” He drove the outer perimeter mall road until seeing the store he wanted, then turned left into an aisle and guided the car between the white lines of a parking space. “Here we are.”
“Here” was a big warehouse of a store that specialized in all-weather outdoor gear for the whole family. She’d been told by mom acquaintances in Kyle’s weekly play group that it had the best selection of warm clothes for a child his age.
Emma got out of the car as quietly as possible and waited while Justin removed the stroller from the back and unfolded it. When all was ready, he nodded, giving her the go-ahead. “Here goes nothing.” She opened the rear passenger door and gently released the car seat’s restraint closure before lifting the baby out and setting him in the stroller. He squirmed some but didn’t wake up and she quickly belted him in and snuggled a blanket around him.
Standing on tiptoe, she whispered in Justin’s ear, “I can’t believe he’s still asleep.”
“You’ve got the magic touch.”
The husky tone sent shivers dancing over her skin that had nothing to do with winter and everything to do with heat. It was one of those forbidden feelings that came without warning and were happening more frequently.
“There’s no telling how long we’ve got, so let’s roll,” she said quickly.
“You’re the expert.”
While Justin pushed the stroller, she quickly moved across the pedestrian crosswalk and into the store, trying to forget how good he smelled and how easy it would have been to lean into him. Inside, there was a lot to distract her. The warehouse had racks of jackets and snow pants, recessed cubbyholes stacked with sweaters and thermal shirts and long underwear.
Knit hats and gloves were everywhere. Overhead signs directed them to the infant and toddler section, where Kyle’s size was located. The sheer volume of choice was overwhelming. They were standing between racks of tiny jackets and heavier clothing appropriate for really brutal cold weather.
Bewildered, Justin looked at her. “Boy, am I glad you’ve got a master’s degree in this stuff.”
“Just to keep things real, I never took a class dedicated to the finer points of dressing a baby for winter in Montana. The way I see it, this is all about common sense.” She headed for the jackets.
“Wait.” Justin stood with his hands on the stroller but didn’t push it. “We should look at snowsuits.”
“I don’t think he’ll need that.”
“Really?” He slid his sunglasses to the top of his head. “People in Blackwater Lake tell me the temperature can drop to below freezing.”
“But Kyle is too little to be out in weather like that.”
“What if you have to take him to the doctor or grocery store?”
Emma thought it over. “We go from house to car to building. All heated or protected from the worst cold.”
“But what if we build a snowman or have a snowball fight?” Justin persisted.
He was taking paternal protection to a new and endearing place where practicality didn’t go. She couldn’t help smiling at him. “He’s not even walking just yet.”
“Almost.”
“Be that as it may, I highly doubt that he’ll be outside long enough to warrant a snowsuit.”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed the back of his neck and scanned the abundance of warm outerwear. “It seems like he should have it just in case.”
“Certainly you can get whatever you want,” she said, “but if that’s the case, why did you ask me to come along?”
“F
or an educated opinion. So what do you think? And remember, money is no object.”
Her eyes narrowed as she read between the lines of what he’d just said. “You want me to tell you it’s okay to buy both.”
“Not true.” Although the amusement in his eyes hinted that he was busted. “I don’t need your permission.”
“Of course not. But that doesn’t change what you want to hear. You can buy out the whole toddler department, but it won’t prove anything about your parenting skills.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Yes, it is. For the record, let me say—in my expert opinion—you’re a fantastic father, Justin. But what you’re suggesting is impractical. If you get something that will fit for a couple of years, it will be too big and bulky for him to move easily. If it fits now, he’ll outgrow it for next year. That just seems wasteful.”
“So what? Call it doing my part for a sluggish economy. I—”
“Excuse me, but I couldn’t help overhearing.”
Emma turned at the sound of the voice behind her. A saleswoman in her mid-to late-twenties had joined them. Her long brown hair was shot through with red highlights and she smiled pleasantly. Her manner was very professional, although she did let slip one appreciative female glance in Justin’s direction. Emma couldn’t fault her; he was an exceptionally good-looking man.
Her name tag said Peg. “I couldn’t help noticing that you’re having a parental difference of opinion.”
“Oh, we’re not—” Emma rethought what she’d been about to say. “Well, he’s the father—”
“Yes, he is. The resemblance is unmistakable.”
Justin jumped in. “The thing is, Peg, I know you’re in sales and would happily sell us the whole department, but what do you think is best for cold-weather protection for a one-year-old?”
“The baby is too little to spend an extended length of time outside in weather too cold for any sensible human being,” Emma interrupted. “Don’t you think?”
Peg indulgently smiled at each of them. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to referee parents.”
To his credit, Justin didn’t correct her and pull rank. “What do most of them do?”
“After a difference of opinion, when they end up buying more than is really necessary for their child, I’m pretty sure they go home to kiss and make up.” She laughed, then studied the sleeping baby. “He’s an incredibly beautiful child. Such a combination of you two.”
“Thanks.” Justin looked amused by the comment and still didn’t correct her. “So, we’re originally from California. What do you think?”
“He’ll need a snowsuit.”
“Okay,” he said. “Then that’s what we’ll look at.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Peg said. “Let me know if you have any more questions.”
When the woman was far enough away that she couldn’t hear and assume another parental argument, Emma said, “Go ahead. You can say I told you so.”
Justin grinned. “Would I do that?”
“You should.” She shook her head. “And you should have told her we’re not married.”
“She would have thought my son was born out of wedlock.”
“So? No one thinks anything about that these days. Or you could have told her the truth. That I’m the nanny.”
“Not this afternoon,” he reminded her.
“Right.” For a few hours they were friends. She looked at the little boy just starting to wake up. He opened his eyes, lifting the thick, dark lashes fanning his pink cheeks. “I’m incredibly flattered that anyone would think a child as beautiful as Kyle was mine. I can’t believe it.”
“I can.” There was a fierce, hungry expression in his eyes before he looked away. “What I mean is that you’re so natural with him, no one would guess you’re not his mom.”
That was a good save and she was grateful. “Thank you for saying that.”
The truth was that caring for Kyle came naturally to her because she was genuinely fond of him. She didn’t have to work at it.
“That’s not flattery,” Justin said. “Just a fact. And I’ll do whatever I can to make him happy. And he’s happy with you as his nanny.”
This time there was no huskiness in his voice; any need, real or imagined, had disappeared from his eyes. He was all business. She should have been appreciative of another reminder that she needed to keep her feelings in check or risk them being crushed.
Later, when she went from friend back to nanny, she’d find a way to work up the appropriate level of gratitude. For a little while she’d felt as if she was part of a family, and going back to being the hired help wouldn’t be easy after getting a small taste of everything she’d ever wanted.
* * *
While Justin and Kyle answered the door, Emma sat on the edge of the sofa in the family room feeling like a bump on a pickle. It was the baby’s first birthday. Friends had been invited to the celebration because Justin was an only child and his parents were deceased. There was no extended family.
She wasn’t family or friend, just the nanny, but he’d overruled any misgivings and asked her to join them. She wanted to be a part of celebrating this momentous first birthday but felt like an intruder, filling an empty place that wasn’t hers to fill. It felt like overstepping, something for which she would be judged in a bad way.
But Justin was the boss. Voices drifted to her and she stood just before the boss walked into the room with his friends.
“I’ll do the introductions.” Justin put Kyle on the rug and he crawled over to her to be picked up. “Emma Robbins, this is Camille Halliday and her fiancé, Ben McKnight.”
She lifted the little boy into her arms, then moved closer and shook hands with both of them. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Camille studied her. “You’re so pretty. Ben, don’t you think she looks like that actress? The one who blindsided her superstar husband with a divorce then moved with their daughter to New York?”
Her fiancé hesitated, obviously trying to pick his words carefully. “I don’t keep up with celebrity stuff. If it’s not a revolutionary new procedure to repair a shattered ankle...” He shrugged.
“Don’t pay any attention to my friend the hotel heiress,” Justin told her. “You can take the girl out of L.A., but you can’t take L.A. out of the girl. That’s where Cam and I met.”
“Not because I had work done.” The other woman looked down at her chest, perfectly displayed in an expensive black knit dress. It also showcased her small baby bump. “This bosom has only recently become impressive and I give credit where credit is due.”
“And where would that be?” Emma asked.
“The baby.”
“What about me?” Ben’s voice was teasing. “I had a role in the process.”
“Since this is your baby, you do get some credit. That way you can’t complain when it eventually disappears.”
“Never happen.” The love shining in his eyes left no doubt he was telling the truth. He was holding a gift wrapped in blue paper with red fire trucks covering it. “And this is for the birthday boy.”
Emma envied the two, who were clearly in love and starting a family. She smiled at the little boy in her arms, just a bit sad that other people’s children might very well be the only ones in her life.
“That’s for you, Kyle.” She smiled when he stared at the present, then wiggled to be put down.
“What can I get everyone to drink?” Justin asked.
“Beer for me.” Ben glanced at his wife.
“Nothing alcoholic or caffeinated. For obvious reasons.” Cam absently rubbed her belly. “I miss coffee more than I can say.”
“Club soda with lime. Wine for you, Em?”
She knew that was Justin’s subtle way
of saying he had no problem with it. “That would be nice.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back. Talk among yourselves.”
Since the large family room was adjacent to the kitchen, he could hear every word. But for several moments there weren’t any. The three of them watched Kyle trying to figure out how to unwrap his package. When he slapped it several times, Emma knew his patience was fading fast and there would be a loud protest any second.
“Do you mind if I help him a little?” She looked at the couple who were watching, estimating their reaction to the suggestion. “He’s getting frustrated. I’ll just tear one end a bit to give him the idea.”
“Please.” Cam smiled tenderly when Emma slid a finger under one of the corners and pulled loose enough paper for the baby to grab and rip to his heart’s content. “Ben told me it would take SEAL Team Six to extract that box from all the tape I put on.”
“Don’t be too disappointed if he has more fun with the paper than with what’s inside.” She observed as the child happily ripped paper away, leaving the wide ribbon and three-dimensional red bow still attached. “At this age it’s the simple things that entertain them. Sticks, rocks, empty boxes.”
Eventually a box emerged with the picture of a block set, complete with figures of doctor and nurse. It was age appropriate for safety, but clearly Kyle was more interested in happily tearing wrapping paper to shreds.
Ben sighed. “I think we have a lot to learn.”
“You’ll do fine.” Justin walked over with a tray holding their drinks. “Cam and I actually met at a fund-raiser for a children’s hospital in Los Angeles.”
“That’s right.” Camille took the glass of club soda he handed her. “It was one of those galas where the rich and famous give away gobs of money in exchange for positive public opinion and tax write-offs.”
“Sometimes they have a passion for the cause,” Justin reminded her.
“Mostly not.” Cam gave him a pointed look. “And I know this because I went to a lot of them for atonement. It took time and money to make people forget or at least forgive my teenage transgressions.”
Emma finally realized who she was. “You’re that hotel heiress.”
Finding Family...and Forever? Page 7