She closed her eyes as Brooke began to rain blades of grass down on her.
“It’s a magic blanket,” the girl told her. “When you fall asleep with this covering you, your dreams come true.”
It had been so long since Millie had dared to dream, she didn’t know how to respond. Instead, she enjoyed the warmth of the early-evening sun and the smell of fresh grass surrounding her. The tiny pieces of grass tickled her bare arms and legs, and she let herself relax in the moment.
After a few minutes Jake’s voice broke her reverie. “Brooke, will you come up here?” His voice sounded different than it had a few minutes ago, tighter and more controlled. “I have a friend I’d like you to meet.”
Millie sat up, blinking several times to shake the daydreams that had so quickly populated her brain. Dreams of love, a family and a place that would finally feel like home. As Brooke skipped over to the porch, Millie stood and dusted the grass off her denim shorts and the Life Is Sweet T-shirt Katie had given her when she and Brooke had made their now-daily stop to the bakery earlier.
Jake stood on the porch, a woman at his side whom Millie didn’t recognize. She couldn’t have been a Crimson native. Everything about her, from her silk blouse to her pencil skirt and leather pumps, screamed “big city.” Even though she’d grown up in DC, Millie had never fit that mold thanks to her mother’s unconventional influence.
She quickly pulled down the hem of her shirt and tucked her hair behind her ear, groaning as more grass blades fell to the blanket around her. Tucking the blanket under her arms in front of her like a shield, she slowly made her way to the edge of the porch.
“Lana,” Jake said, his hand on the base of the woman’s back, “this is Millie Spencer, Brooke’s nanny.”
The woman gave Millie a long look up and down. Up close, she was stunning—with high cheekbones and glossy hair that was arranged in a sleek knot at the back of her neck. Millie noticed that the dandelion crown drooped in Jake’s injured hand and she quickly pulled the flowers out of her hair.
“How sweet,” Lana said, but her patronizing tone made Millie feel anything but sweet. “You have a daughter and a nanny.” She put her hand on Jake’s arm and squeezed, leaning closer. “We definitely have a lot to catch up on, Jake.”
Lana bent over Brooke as if she was examining her, the tight smile still in place. “How old are you, honey?”
“Four,” Brooke answered, holding Bunny in the telltale death grip that Millie had come to know meant the girl was nervous. Jake didn’t seem to notice.
“Lana and I did our residency together,” Jake told Millie. “She’s a brilliant doctor and is finishing a fellowship at the clinic here in Crimson.”
“Brilliant,” Millie repeated. “That’s nice.” She was all too aware of her disheveled appearance and bare feet in comparison to Lana, who looked as if she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine or boardroom, not a county hospital in the mountains of Colorado. No one in the world had ever described Millie as brilliant. As her mother always told her, the Spencers had other ways of attracting attention besides their brains. Millie had always wanted to be one of the smart ones, wishing she’d inherited more than her father’s brown eyes.
“Lana brought dinner,” Jake said with a slightly apologetic wave in Millie’s direction.
“We made lasagna,” Brooke told him. “Remember? I cut the cheese.” She laughed at the joke she and Millie had shared earlier. Millie smiled along with her but noticed Lana’s brows furrow.
She thought she saw one corner of Jake’s mouth curve, but it was so quick she might have imagined it. “The lasagna will hold until tomorrow. Right, Millie?”
Her face burned but she nodded. “Sure.”
“I don’t know if I have enough for everyone.” Lana’s mouth turned into a perfect pout. “I picked up Chinese.” Millie watched as the woman’s chin dipped. “Kung pao chicken used to be your favorite, Jake. Do you remember all those takeout nights after our shifts?”
Millie wanted to gag as Jake stuttered. “I...uh...guess.”
“I thought it would just be the two of us, but of course I want to include your daughter.” She slid Millie a pointed look.
She might not be “brilliant,” but Millie could take a hint. “I’ll wrap up the lasagna for another time. You three can have dinner. I ate a big lunch, so I’m not that hungry.”
“You had a salad,” Brooke pointed out.
“It was a big salad.”
Lana clapped her hands together, clearly having expected to get her way. “Perfect.”
“I bet there’d be enough. Are you sure, Millie?” Jake’s voice was so kind it made her throat tight.
She gave a jerky nod. “I’m going to clean up out here. Brooke, wash your hands before eating, okay?”
“Yep.” With a quick glance at Millie, the girl ran back into the yard and plucked up the final crown of flowers. She returned and handed it to Lana. “You can be the dinner princess,” she said with a smile.
Lana held the flowers gingerly in her hands. “Thanks,” she said as if Brooke had handed her a wiggling snake.
“Let’s go, Cookie.” Jake scooped up Brooke and Bunny in one arm. “We don’t want the food to get cold.”
And with that Millie was left alone in the backyard. She couldn’t be mad, she told herself, despite the ball of emotion lodged in her chest. Lana was a friend of Jake’s. She’d been a colleague, someone he shared things in common with and could relate to on a meaningful level. She looked perfect next to him, like a doctor’s wife should look. That woman could say whatever she wanted about catching up, but Millie recognized the look of possessiveness in her eyes. She’d been part of Jake’s past, and from the looks of it, she had every intention of becoming part of his future.
Millie was a temporary fix. She was the nanny. The hired help. She was a placeholder, like she’d always been in life. That had been enough for her mother, but never for Millie. Her wishes didn’t seem to matter. When it was time to have fun, make messes and take a break from life, Millie was the type of person you wanted around. When it was time for things to get real, she was left behind.
Just like always.
* * *
There were times Jake knew his life would be easier if he lived on a mountaintop in some remote part of the world where there weren’t any women to be found for miles.
Tonight was one of those times.
He hadn’t planned on Lana Mayfield showing up at the house with Chinese. Hell, he didn’t even remember what he’d eaten most of his residency since the times he hadn’t been at the hospital had passed in a blur. If she said he liked kung pao chicken, he wasn’t going to argue. He hadn’t understood that it might be a big deal to postpone the meal Millie and Brooke had made for another night.
Mistake number one.
He’d also assumed that when Millie had so quickly agreed that it would be best that she be left out of the dinner, it had meant she wanted time to herself. A night off. A break. He could certainly understand why she would want that.
Mistake number two.
Of course, he hadn’t realized he’d made either of those mistakes until his sister-in-law Sara had called a few minutes ago.
Millie had remained in her room until they’d finished eating. Then she’d taken Brooke in to have a bath and get ready for bed. He’d gotten the distinct vibe Lana would have liked to stay longer, but he knew Brooke would want him to read her a bedtime story. Those quiet moments with his daughter had become the highlight of each day for him.
As he was heading back toward Brooke’s bedroom after Lana left, he’d picked up Sara’s call. She’d asked about the lasagna—apparently it had been a Crimson Ranch recipe—and when he’d explained the delay in eating it, he’d been greeted with a heavy silence on the other end of the line.
Not a goo
d silence.
“I thought you were the smart brother,” she said finally and proceeded to explain—in great detail—why his actions had been rude and probably hurtful to Millie. That hadn’t been his intention and he wondered how he was going to fix it.
Only a short time ago, Jake had been able to fix any number of physical injuries and illness. Now he was at a loss.
He hoped Sara had been wrong in her assessment of the situation.
“Sorry if I messed up dinner plans,” he said, blocking Millie’s path out of Brooke’s room.
“No big deal. I had some email to catch up on.”
“So you enjoyed a little time to yourself?”
She leveled a look at him then flashed the brightest smile he’d ever seen. “It was peachy.”
“You do so much with Brooke...” he said, trying another tactic.
“You pay me,” she shot back immediately.
He took a breath. “Yes, but you don’t have to be on call twenty-four hours. If you want a night off, I can handle things here.”
“With Lana?” Her voice was icy cold.
Allowing Lana to stay for dinner was mistake number three, apparently.
“She’s an old friend. Nothing more.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation.” More frost.
He looked down at her, wanting to make this better but not having any idea how to accomplish that. She still smelled like the outdoors, fresh and clean and too damned appealing. He liked her bubbly and happy, but he found he liked her irritated, too. That was a big problem. A blade of grass still clung to her hair, and he loosened it from the soft strand, his body going tight at her quick intake of breath.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she said. He had an immediate image of water pouring over her skin.
Mistake number four.
He nodded and let her walk past then took a deep, head-clearing breath before moving toward his daughter.
Thirty minutes later, he eased the door to Brooke’s room closed. He could hear Millie in the kitchen and resolved that he would not make more of a mess of this evening than he already had.
She had her back to him, standing in front of the open freezer door.
“Looking for leftovers?” he asked as he came to stand at the edge of the room.
Obviously—he hoped—she hadn’t heard him come into the room. She spun around and hurled her spoon at his head. It twirled in the air then hit him directly between the eyes.
“Ouch.” He rubbed at the spot on his forehead and bent forward to retrieve the spoon.
Millie rushed toward him, their heads almost colliding. She grabbed on to his shoulders, pressing the front of her body against him as she tried to drag him toward the center island. For a moment he didn’t resist, so overwhelmed by the feel of her soft curves and the scent of ripe berries and chocolate—a combination of her shampoo and ice cream, he guessed.
She tugged on him, but he stopped moving. “What are you doing, Millie?”
She wrenched at him again, not quite knocking him off balance. “I thought you were going to faint.”
“From being dinged in the head with a teaspoon?” He grinned at the thought. Millie looked completely serious.
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Two.”
“Do you have a headache?”
His head wasn’t the part of his body with the ache at the moment.
“I’m fine. It hardly hurt. I was just picking up the spoon.” He held it up for her to see. “Sorry I startled you.”
“I thought you were with Brooke.”
“She fell asleep.”
Jake couldn’t help but notice she hadn’t moved away from him. He tried to remain as still as possible to prolong his pleasure in this moment.
His gaze flicked to the refrigerator. “What were you doing in the freezer?”
She bit down on her lower lip and looked away before answering, “Having dinner.”
“Ice cream?”
She nodded.
“Why didn’t you eat with us?”
“There wasn’t enough food.”
“Bull. We would have made it work.”
She tried to pull away but he held her fast. “I spent enough of my life being the third wheel to my mom and dad. I wasn’t going to be the fourth one tonight.” Her voice held so much vulnerability and sadness, he almost couldn’t stand it. “It’s fine. Really. I work for you. We’re not friends. We don’t—”
“No.” He cut her off, raising his hands to cup her face, forcing her to look him in the eye. “We are friends, Millie. Hell, you’re one of the few I have in my life. I’ve never been great at making friends.”
Her sweet lips pressed together. “Lana Mayfield and her trip-down-memory-lane Chinese would argue with that.”
“Lana is great.” He leaned in closer, just a breath away from her. “It was nice to see her. But she isn’t...”
* * *
Millie waited for him to finish his sentence then got distracted looking into his blue eyes, which had gone several shades darker as he watched her.
“She isn’t what?”
His mouth grazed hers ever so slightly, the light pressure making her ache for more.
“You,” he whispered, the word humming against her skin. “She isn’t you.”
Millie sighed as he deepened the kiss, relishing the strength and warmth of him. The kiss was a revelation because as much power as she knew he possessed, he didn’t wield it against her. He allowed her to lead, to explore him at her own pace. There was an intimate give and take as their tongues met and melded. Still he held back, reining in his need and stoking hers in a way she’d never before experienced.
It left her wanting more. She wound her arms around the back of his neck. Her fingers laced through the soft hair that curled at his collar, urging him closer. He took her silent invitation, enveloping her in his embrace.
The moments turned into minutes as they stood wound around each other.
“You feel so good.” He released her mouth to press kisses along her jaw and then down her neck, nipping at her skin then soothing those heated spots with his tongue. His fingers touched her back underneath her pajama top and her whole body ached from the pleasure of it.
“More,” she whispered and let her own hands snake under his T-shirt to the hard muscle of his back and torso.
They were a tangle of arms and legs as he claimed her mouth again. She felt her knees tremble and he steadied her with his injured hand, the fabric of his splint scratching against her exposed skin.
She felt her control slipping. She was about to lose herself in the moment. She wanted to lose herself to this man.
The thought was scary enough to have her wrench away, pressing her palms to the kitchen counter to steady herself.
For a few minutes the only sound was the hum of the refrigerator and her heavy breaths as she tried to regain control of herself. She stole a glance at Jake out of the corner of her eye. He watched her from hooded eyes, his arms loose at his sides. Although he looked totally in control, she could see his chest rise and fall in an unsteady rhythm. At least she wasn’t alone in how much the kiss had affected her.
“I can’t do this,” she said faintly. She picked at a corner of the tile countertop. “It isn’t right.”
“It sure as hell felt right.” She thought she heard condemnation in his tone, but maybe that was her own voice ringing in her head.
“I work for you, Jake.”
“We’re friends, Millie.”
“Not that kind of friends.”
Her mother had been her father’s secretary when they’d first met. From the stories Millie had always heard, he’d swept her off her feet and left her mother unable to resist him. Millie
had always promised herself that she would never lose sight of who she was. She would never allow a man to make her forget what she wanted from life.
She’d always thought of her mother as weak. But in this moment she understood how her dad had been able to capture her mother’s heart in one moment and take command of her life for the next two decades. Because all she wanted was to wrap herself around Jake Travers and never let go. No matter if she wasn’t good enough or smart enough. She didn’t care about consequences or commitment. She’d always fought to remain in control of her emotions and her actions, but every time that resolve slipped Millie found herself in trouble.
Now she was standing on the edge of a yawning cavern, and she knew if she didn’t pull herself away she’d be lost.
She could lose herself in Jake.
Hugging her arms around her body, she straightened and looked at him.
“I’m not going there... We can’t go there.”
“What’s wrong, Millie?” His gaze pinned her in place. “What happened to you to make you so scared?”
She took a breath. “I’m not scared. I called the preschool. I’m interviewing with Laura tomorrow. If things work out, I’ll start the Tuesday after Labor Day, the same hours as Brooke so I’ll still be able to take care of her.”
“Okay, good. I think you’ll be perfect for that.” He shifted. “I meant what I said, Millie. You’re not on call twenty-four hours here. If there are other things you want to do or you need time off—whether for a job or something else—we’ll make that work.”
“I’ll take you up on that.”
How else was she supposed to answer? No, thanks. I don’t have a life or friends or any hobbies. The only time I feel remotely content is when I’m with you and your daughter. That’s how pathetic I am.
No, she wouldn’t admit any of that. Instead, she’d walk away.
As hard as it was. As much as it hurt. Because walking away had always been easier than staying and fighting for things she didn’t believe she deserved.
“And that’s all?” His voice pierced her thoughts.
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