by Renee Ryan
Samson, the little dear, was behaving for a change. Almost like a regular dog.
When they came full circle, Olivia stopped and stared up at Connor’s house. Even in the muted moonlight, the large, three-story structure cut a magnificent picture. The Rocky Mountains, almost purple against the moonlit sky, created a perfect backdrop. “I can’t believe you bought Charity House.”
“She’s a grand old girl, isn’t she?”
“What a perfect description.”
Connor bent over and picked up the puppy. The little guy looked tuckered out.
So did the big guy.
The strain of the day showed on Connor’s face. Tiny lines of tension etched around his mouth and eyes. As it had in the park yesterday, the need to soothe came fast, stronger than before, and nearly impossible to ignore.
She balled her hands into fists, set them on her hips, dropped them by her sides. Sighed.
Who knew simple hand placement could cause such internal conflict?
“The girls are growing up so fast,” Connor said, his voice as tired as he looked. “I bought Charity House last year as a way to connect with my family’s past while building on the future. I’d like to think we’ll add our own stories to the Mitchell lore as time passes.”
Merging past and present, forging ahead into the future. What a lovely idea.
“I’ve always had a thing for this old place.” She kept her gaze riveted on the house, afraid if she looked at Connor she might do something foolish. Such as tell him how much she already admired him, respected him.
Liked him.
Guard your heart, Olivia.
“How long have you and the girls lived here?” she asked, banishing all thoughts of the man, save the fact that he was her employer now.
“Barely three months. I started hosting the Mitchell Sunday dinners a few weeks ago. I plan to throw periodic barbecues once the renovations are complete and maybe other parties throughout the year, especially around the holidays.”
“That sounds really great.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Now that my folks live in Arizona year-round, it’s up to me to carry on the Mitchell traditions.”
There was that word again. Most of the Scott traditions had died with her parents. And wasn’t that the biggest tragedy of all?
Maybe Olivia should follow Connor’s lead and restore some of her own family’s past while building on the future. Make a plan. Work the plan. Adjust when necessary. Maybe she should apply the formula to all parts of her life, not just her career.
“The Scotts have a connection to this house, too,” she said, mainly to herself.
“That’s right, as do the O’Tooles and the Hawkinses.”
“And a few others in town, as well,” she said, smiling now. “I wrote a paper about Charity House back in high school and learned a lot about the history of the orphanage.”
“I’d love to hear more.”
“I’ll tell you what I know if you’ll give me a tour of the upstairs someday.”
“You haven’t gone up there yet?”
“I didn’t want to roam around your home without your permission, not even with the girls.”
He opened his mouth to say something, seemed to reconsider, then began again. “It’s getting late. How about I give you that tour tomorrow night when I get home from work?”
“I’d like that very much.”
He continued to stare at her, searching her face, saying nothing. “Since it’s Ethan’s turn to cover the evening hours this week, I should be able to make it home on time.”
“That would be nice. But, Connor.” She touched his arm, held on a beat. “Remember who you’re talking to. I’m the proud granddaughter, daughter and sister of doctors. I’m not going to freak out if you don’t show up by six.”
The words sounded like a vow, even to her own ears.
His nod was quick, almost imperceptible, but his slow exhale was easily heard. “I’ll pay you time and a half if I ever run late.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Olivia. I have an idea what you were making at the bank in Florida. I’m thinking it was at least five times what I’ll be paying you to watch the girls.”
That was true. But if today was any indication, watching Megan and Molly was going to be more fun than work. With the bonus of a fully equipped kitchen at her fingertips.
Samson, on the other hand...
An idea struck her, a rather brilliant idea, a colossal win-win. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to bring Baloo with me during the day.”
“Any particular reason why?”
“He could use the company and the daily exercise. Who knows, Samson might even pick up a few good manners from the older dog.”
“Olivia Scott, you’re a genius.”
Chapter Six
With Baloo riding shotgun, Olivia arrived at Connor’s house fifteen minutes before eight. She told herself she was early because she hated running late. It was not because she was eager to begin watching Molly and Megan full-time. Except...
She was eager.
She was getting paid to babysit two adorable girls who happened to live in her favorite house in town. A house fully equipped with state-of-the-art kitchen appliances.
As if he’d heard her approach, Connor appeared on the porch just as Olivia climbed out of her car. The girls joined him a half second later, looking fresh and ready for the day in purple capri pants, matching white T-shirts and identical ponytails.
Olivia’s heart sighed as she looked at the twins, especially when she noted how their faces were full of an excitement that matched her own.
“We’ve been up for hours,” Molly said, bouncing in place.
“Hours and hours,” Megan added.
An exaggeration, surely. Nevertheless, Olivia smiled in pleasure. She was completely and utterly doomed. After barely a day in the twins’ company, her affection for them was quickly outdistancing her need to guard her heart.
Why, oh why, had she put herself in this position to be hurt again?
Simple. This family needed her.
Who didn’t like being needed?
She turned her attention to Connor. Bad idea. Legs splayed, hands clasped behind his back, he looked like the essence of a storybook hero, especially with Charity House as his backdrop. Made her think of a lawman taming the Old West.
Oh, no.
She was not interested in this man, she told herself firmly. She was only here to help him out temporarily.
“You’re early.” He spoke with a smile in his voice, his eyes hidden in the shadows cast by the house behind him.
“I’m a punctual girl by nature.” Proud of her own breezy tone, she scrambled around the car and let Baloo out.
“Heel,” she told the dog, wanting the shield between her and the family watching her from the porch.
Just when she had her composure back, Connor went and made matters worse. He moved out of the shadows and smiled. Directly at her.
Her pulse fluttered.
Oh, perfect, another visceral response to the man, when she was trying so very, very hard to keep her priorities straight in her head. Connor really was too handsome for his own good.
Baloo let out a happy bark. From inside the house, Samson responded with an exited yip, yip, yip.
“Go on,” she told the dog, confirming the command with the accompanying hand signal Ethan had taught her.
Baloo ran up the steps faster than usual and met the puppy in the middle of the foyer. He lowered to his haunches. The smaller dog climbed on his back and began an enthusiastic wrestling match, most of the effort on his end.
Without the buffer between her and the Mitchells, Olivia’s heart beat faster, tripping over itself. Stupid he
art.
She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, waited for one of them—any of them—to break the silence.
Thankfully, Connor did the honors as he stepped off the porch and joined her on the gravel drive.
“I forgot to give you my cell phone number last night.” At her raised eyebrow, he added, “In case you need to get in touch with me and can’t get through at the office.”
“You should probably have mine, too.”
They each typed the other’s digits into their respective phones.
“I also forgot to tell you that the microwave can be touchy. If it gets stuck, you have to open the door and start all over again.”
She already knew this, but simply smiled and said, “I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”
He continued as though she hadn’t spoken, explaining how to work the thermostat—something she also already knew—the precise location of the garden hose out back and where the washer and dryer were situated in the mudroom. He finished with a detailed rundown on how often to feed the puppy.
Olivia listened, nodding at all the proper places. When he finally took a breath, she placed a hand on his arm. “Go to work, Connor. I’ve got this. Your girls will be fine in my care.”
Smiling her prettiest smile, the one she reserved for the more nervous CEOs, she shooed him toward his car. “We’ll see you when you get home tonight.”
She took Connor’s place on the porch between his daughters. When his taillights disappeared, she stepped back and smiled down at Molly first, then Megan. “Have you had breakfast?”
“Not yet.”
“Then we better get to it.” She ushered the girls and the dogs inside the house, then directed the whole crew into the kitchen. “Who wants to learn how to make a frittata?”
“Me,” the twins said in unison.
“Awesome. We’re going to need eggs.”
“We always have eggs in the house,” Megan supplied helpfully. “Carlotta makes sure of it.”
“Okay, then.” Olivia opened the refrigerator. “Now. Here. You’re officially in charge of these.” She handed the egg carton to Molly. “And you hold this.” She put a package of cheese in Megan’s care. “I’ll take the tomatoes. And, oh, good, you have thick-cut bacon. The perfect finishing touch.”
Arms full, she shut the refrigerator door with her hip, then went in search of a nonstick pan and a chopping board. Once all the ingredients were laid out before them, she began the girls’ second cooking lesson in so many days.
“Natural ingredients are always best.”
“That’s what Carlotta says.”
Although Olivia had never met the housekeeper, she liked her already.
For the next twenty minutes, she patiently walked the girls through the steps of making their first frittata. After they’d eaten and cleaned up, Molly wanted to know what was next on the agenda.
Olivia considered their options. They could go swimming at the local pool, but she’d have to run that by Connor first. She’d do that later tonight. In the meantime, she’d have to figure something else out for them to do.
As she was tapping a finger to her chin, her gaze landed on Megan’s ponytail. Of course. “What do you say we have our very own glitter party?”
Megan’s eyes popped wide. “What’s that?”
“Something I made up back in high school. We practice different hairstyles on one another, paint each other’s toenails in sparkly colors, try on various lip glosses and—”
“I’m in,” Molly declared before Olivia could finish.
“Me, too.”
Olivia smiled at them both. “Then it’s settled.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Samson sniffing the kitchen floor. He turned in two tight circles.
“Samson, no.” She hustled the puppy outside.
The girls chased after her, apologizing for him as they’d done every time he made a mess in the house.
“No worries.” She set the animal on the ground. “He’s still a puppy. We’ll house-train him before long. Let’s get him good and worn out so we can leave him in his crate when we head into town to buy all the items we’ll need for our glitter party.”
Two hours later, Olivia and the girls—plus one very grateful Baloo—sauntered down Main Street. The older dog had had enough of Samson for one morning.
“Olivia Scott, you have some nerve.” The teasing words came from behind her. “Instead of stopping in to see me yourself, I have to hear through the town grapevine that you’re back home?”
Olivia spun around. “Keely O’Toole!”
“The one and only.”
Retracing her steps, Olivia hurried toward her best friend from high school. The ginger hair had deepened to a ruby red, and her porcelain skin radiated around a pair of light green, almond-shaped eyes. Add in that tall, lithe figure and Keely could rival any supermodel in the business.
For a while, she’d done just that.
“I didn’t know you were back in Village Green, too.” Olivia managed to push the words past her shocked surprise. “I thought you were living in New York.”
A shadow fell over the woman’s face. “Turns out life in the big city isn’t for me.”
“Since when?”
“Since I realized how much I missed Village Green.”
“This from the girl who couldn’t get out of town fast enough?”
“What can I say?” Keely reached down and scratched Baloo’s head. “My dreams have changed over the years.”
Olivia understood. “How long have you been home?”
“About a year. And I hear you’ve been back for nearly a week.”
“Five days, actually.”
“Still too long without stopping in to see me.” Keely wagged a finger at Olivia, her eyes full of amusement. “What kind of friend are you, anyway?”
“The very worst kind. Keely.” She pulled her friend into a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”
They clung, each drinking in the moment, the years slipping away with every second that passed. Keely drew away first, then caught sight of the girls. “Hey, Megan. Molly. What’s up, girly-girls?”
“Hey, Miss Keely.” Molly hugged the woman, her ponytail swishing back and forth with the gesture. “We’re getting ready to have our very own glitter party.”
“My very most favorite kind of party ever.”
“Mine, too,” Megan declared. “Or it will be once I have one.”
Keely laughed. So did both girls.
Olivia divided a look between the three of them. They seemed very familiar with one another.
“Well, now that you’re here, why don’t you come inside for some sustenance before the big party?” Keely gestured at the neighborhood grill her family had owned for generations. Señor O’Toole’s. Named after her Irish grandfather and Mexican grandmother. “I’ll buy you all lunch.”
“Oh, please, Miss Olivia.” Megan tugged on her hand. “Can we eat here?”
“I should probably check with your father first.”
“It’s okay with Daddy,” Molly assured her. “He takes us here at least twice a week, sometimes more.”
And that, she decided, explained how Keely and the girls knew one another. As much as she’d love catching up with her friend, she had to decline. “Sorry, we can’t. We have Baloo with us.”
“No problem.” Keely took the dog’s leash from Olivia. “We’ll sit on the patio out back.”
“You have a patio?” That was new.
“Come and see.” Keely guided their tiny group around the building, then pointed them to a table beneath a trellis covered in wisteria.
As they settled in wrought-iron chairs, Olivia looked around. The patio was actually a three-tiered terrace. Tables and chairs were s
cattered beneath festive, multicolored umbrellas that spoke of the family’s Mexican heritage, while the dark wood and cobblestone flooring had a definite Irish feel. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
“Can’t take all the credit.” Keely poured water from a pitcher into a bowl and set it beside Baloo. “I created the design, but my brother Beau did most of the work.”
“I like Beau,” Megan said. “He’s supernice.”
“You know Keely’s brother?”
“He taught us how to ski last year.” Her face scrunched in a frown. “But I fell a lot.”
“Me, too,” Molly chimed in. “Beau was really nice, though. He kept telling us that falling was all part of the experience, and if we kept at it we’d be pros in no time.”
That sounded like Beau. Keely’s twin brother might be one of the baddest, fastest downhill skiers in the world, but he’d always been patient with kids, even back in high school.
“When did he have time to teach you how to ski?” She turned to Keely. “And help you with this patio? Isn’t he on the pro tour?”
“Not anymore. Shoulder injury took him out last year.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Another reminder of how out of touch Olivia had gotten. Why hadn’t she come home more often, or at least tried to stay in contact with friends?
Because she’d been too busy chasing a life that hadn’t been meant for her. Even with Warner and Kenzie, there had been something missing, something that left her empty, though she was only realizing that now.
“The accident happened about a month after I came home.” Keely grimaced. “When it became evident he wasn’t going to make a full recovery, Beau traded one dream for another—his words, not mine—and opened a ski shop in town.”
Olivia nodded. “Lemonade out of lemons.”
“That’s my brother for you. His optimism inspired me to make a few changes other than the terrace.” Keely passed her a menu. “Take a look.”
Olivia ran her gaze across the items listed.
“Speaking of dreams, whatever happened to yours, Olivia? I thought the plan was for you to get a business degree, then come home and open a tearoom in town specializing in chocolate.”