by Susan Meier
She told her heart to settle down. Told herself he was simply making conversation. It was no more serious than when he told Cindy he liked her bear. “Well, I wasn’t a holy terror.”
“I bet you were one of those good girls who never bothered anybody.”
“I certainly didn’t bother the cook since we didn’t have one.”
He chuckled. She glanced down at Sam’s bottle, saw it was half empty and burped him before she let him have the bottle again. Following her lead, Chance burped Cindy and gave her the bottle and the room grew quiet again.
Chance said, “So what did you do?”
“What did I do about what?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. As a kid. Did you like history? Did you have a part in the school play? Did you chase boys?”
Her heart flip-flopped again. His attention made her all tingly. Which took them back to the bad place. The place she wasn’t supposed to let them get into. “You should be talking to Cindy.”
He glanced down at the baby then laughed. “She’s spellbound. She wants to hear about you too.”
With her heart beating frantically, she said, “Honestly. There’s nothing to tell.”
He peeked over. “Nothing? You had a totally uneventful childhood, teen years, early adulthood?”
Her face reddened. She wished with all her heart she had a story to tell him, but she didn’t. She dated Jason through high school, went with him to the prom, was injured with him on the motorcycle—
Then spent the next five years either in hospitals or visiting Jason. Not finishing college. Losing her friends. It was like she’d spent those years tumbling down a black hole.
And she finally figured out why she didn’t want to talk about this with Chance or his kids. She wanted a little space in time to forget about it. To be with people who didn’t know. With people who treated her normally, not with pity or a million questions.
He rose from his rocker. “She’s asleep.”
She glanced down and gratefully realized Sam was too. She wouldn’t have to answer Chance’s question.
She hoisted herself out of the rocker. They both put the babies into a crib. Then he said, “Good night,” and she said, “Good night.”
But neither turned away.
Staring into his sapphire eyes, a spark of something flickered to life in her chest. Could he be curious about her because he was interested in her? She’d suspected that her first day here, when they stared at each other after he’d assembled the swings and she’d put the twins in. She’d seen a certain glow in his eyes that she’d never seen in another man’s eyes.
But that was wrong.
So she turned.
And he turned.
They opened their respective bedroom doors and went their separate ways.
* * *
The next day, Chance came out into the kitchen dressed in a suit again. “Good morning.”
Tory smiled at him before she slid a spoonful of cereal into Sam’s mouth. After a ten-minute talking-to when she went to bed, she’d gotten herself back under control. He’d only been making conversation. He wasn’t really interested in her.
She’d made way too much of a few innocent looks and questions because she was lonely. It was hard talking to someone who didn’t talk back. Harder still to talk to parents who wanted her to move on. She didn’t need to fall victim to an attraction. She just needed some friends.
He walked directly to the coffeepot. After he poured himself a cup of coffee, he turned from the pot and leaned against the counter. “You and I need to talk again.”
Her breath stuttered. She hoped with all her heart he wasn’t about to bring up the question she hadn’t answered the night before.
She peered at him, her face red. “About?”
“Day after tomorrow’s Saturday.”
“Oh?” Saturday…she was supposed to have Saturday off. “Oh! That’s right.”
“You said you have somewhere you like to go….”
“I do.”
“Is it somewhere close? Is there a time you have to be there?”
“It’s not far and I can get there when I get there.”
“I’m only asking because I need to make a schedule for myself.”
“Schedule?”
“Do I need to get up with the kids? Will you be back at night or take the whole day off? Stay overnight with your parents?”
She hadn’t really thought about it. But her only real priority was seeing Jason. She didn’t need to stay at her parents’ house. She could come back here. “I could get up with the kids—”
“You don’t have to—” He sighed as if frustrated. “I’m just trying to get everything straight that’s all.”
“Can we play it by ear on Saturday morning?”
He set his coffee cup down with a snap. “Sure.”
Then he left and Tory collapsed against the kitchen counter. Trying to pretend she didn’t have an ugly accident in her past kept getting more and more difficult. Sure, she didn’t want his pity, and she wasn’t really lying—but she wasn’t being honest either. And this was the second time it had caused an awkward conversation. She had to own up to it.
Regret swamped her. Once he knew, he’d pity her. She wouldn’t feel normal anymore.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Was that really why she wasn’t telling him? Because she wanted to feel and appear normal to him?
Oh, Lord. What was wrong with her?
At noon, she pushed the twins’ double stroller up the thin brown brick lane to Gwen’s. When she reached the mansion, she rang the bell. Gwen immediately answered. Dressed in a chic, classic outfit, she looked the part of lady of the house.
She clapped her hands together. “Come in! Come in!” She turned and called down the hall behind her. “Kate, the babies are here!”
A short brunette in jeans and a sweater popped out of a doorway in the back and raced up the hall. She took one look at Cindy, with a big pink bow in her curly yellow hair and Sam, who filled his half of the double stroller, and she clapped her hands together too. “Gwen, you’re right. They are the cutest kids in the world.” Then she extended her hand to Tory. “I’m Kate. Chance’s sister-in-law. Max’s wife.” She grinned. “Can I hold one?”
Tory took the hand Kate had extended, her mouth sort of hanging open. Kate was gorgeous, but not “cover model” gorgeous. More like girl-next-door perfect. Perfect. The kind of woman Chance should marry too. “You can hold them both if you like.”
Gwen laughed. “We get the babies all to ourselves for the next hour—or two if we can persuade Tory to take a long lunch.”
Tory shrugged out of her old denim jacket. “Can’t today. Once I eat, it’s nap time. I’ve finally got them on a schedule.”
“Then run along,” Gwen said, nudging her toward the hall that led to the kitchen. “Kate and I want as much time as we can get with these two.”
Tory ambled down the long hall and took the two turns that got her to the double swinging doors that opened into the kitchen. Cook, a short gray-haired lady in her seventies who’d been with the Montgomery family for thirty years and JoAnn, the maid, sat at the long table in the back of the room.
Cook waved her over. “Soup’s getting cold.”
Tory hung her jacket on the back of an available chair. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”
“I didn’t,” JoAnn said, rising from her chair. “Mrs. Montgomery’s having a party on Saturday. I’m not just busy. I’m supervising a crew from an outside cleaning service.” She gave Tory a hug. “Sorry, but I have to run.”
After she was gone, Tory picked up her spoon and took a bite of soup. “Yum. I swear, Cook, you should open a restaurant.”
Cook batted a hand. “At my age? Besides, the Montgomerys are like family now.”
Tory glanced down at her soup. “I can understand that.”
Cook laughed. “Oh, can you now?”
“Yeah.”
Cook laid her hand on Tory’s forearm.
“Why do I get the feeling something’s wrong?”
She sighed. “Because something is wrong. Off sync.” She drew in a breath. “I’m behaving—different—around Chance.”
“Different?”
“I never told him about my accident.”
Cook frowned. “So? You want a fresh start.” She patted Tory’s hand. “No one can blame you for wanting to forget that.”
“I don’t think that’s why I’m doing it. I think I’m doing it because I like Chance.”
“Like? Or like?”
“Actually, like might be the wrong word. I think I’m just attracted to him.”
“That’s still an ouch.”
“I thought he was a real grouch at first. But he’s not. He’s just somebody who had too much stuff happen in his life. And I think he’s just now catching up.”
Cook glanced meaningfully at Tory’s always-covered left leg. “Like you?”
She shrugged. She hadn’t realized it until just this moment but her accident and Chance’s babies had thrown both of their lives into a tizzy. And she was catching up every bit as he was catching up. No wonder she felt attracted to him. They were kindred spirits.
When she didn’t answer, Cook sighed. “Okay. Here’s the deal. You wouldn’t be the first nanny to fall for the daddy of the kids she watches. It’s almost a pitfall of the job.”
Tory laughed.
“But he’s not the guy for you. He’s older than you are.” She motioned around the restaurant-size, stainless steel kitchen. “He was raised in a totally different environment. So what you’re feeling is probably nothing more than a good old heaping helping of physical attraction to a very good-looking guy.”
Tory breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s what I keep telling myself.”
“Because you’re right.”
“So what do I do?”
“Find a way to diffuse it. A way to highlight the fact that he’s your boss.”
Tory shook her head. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“You have to do something that constantly points out that your relationship needs to stay professional.”
“Caring for his babies isn’t enough?”
“Caring for his babies seems to be part of what makes you like him. So you have to give yourself a distraction so that your job seems more like a job than a family. Like set yourself up as his teacher. You said he doesn’t know a lot about kids and you’ve already been showing him things. So put it in your head that that’s part of your job and instead of noticing he’s good-looking, start using your brain to figure ways you can help him be a better dad.”
Tory inclined her head. “That might work.”
“It will work. All you have to do is stop seeing him as a handsome daddy you’re helping and start seeing him as an ill-prepared daddy you have to teach to handle his kids. I guarantee you, it will work.”
That night Tory sucked in a breath when Chance arrived home and instead of saying, “Hi,” she said, “The kids were particularly good today.”
He shrugged out of his suit jacket. “Yeah?”
“I think as a reward for them maybe you should feed them dinner.”
“Myself?”
“I feed them myself all the time. You can do it.”
“Should I get out of this shirt?”
“I would if I were you.”
He went to his bedroom and came out in a T-shirt and jeans. A T-shirt and jeans that made him look a lot younger and a lot sexier than a thirtysomething daddy should look.
Remembering Cook’s plan, she forced herself to think of herself as his teacher. She set everything up for him to feed the twins, then stood off to the side, behind him, leaning against the stainless steel stove as he fed the babies.
“I’ve done this before.” He glanced back at her. “I was alone with them for two whole weeks. It’s not like I need lessons.”
She winced. Leave it to him to figure out what she was doing. “I know, but the kids like your time and attention. With you feeding and me watching they get both of us, but you especially.”
As if to confirm that, Cindy giggled.
They spent the rest of the evening with her looking over his shoulder, occasionally offering advice on what he was doing with whichever baby he had, and just as Cook had predicted, she began to feel better. Like a teacher. Still needed by the Montgomerys, but not so close. One step removed from all processes.
She woke with the twins at two and quickly quieted them so they didn’t wake Chance. When they cried at six the next morning, both she and Chance sped to the nursery. But she shooed him out, telling him to go shower and dress for work.
Proud of herself, she had an uneventful morning with the kids and strolled them up to Gwen’s at noon. Everything went perfectly well until she entered Gwen’s den to pick up the twins after her lunch and Gwen reminded her of the party the following evening.
“Your parents will be coming, so I’d like you to come too.”
Having the perfect way out, she smiled gratefully and said, “That’s very nice of you, but if you want Chance there, I’m the one left to watch the babies.”
Sliding Cindy into the stroller, Kate said, “Trisha, my teenage daughter, is watching them.”
“Oh.”
Gwen patted her hand. “I’m sorry, dear. We took the liberty of asking Trisha before we mentioned this to you. But Chance agreed.”
She checked that both babies were secure in the stroller, not sure what to say. She’d actually love to go to a party. She didn’t mind they’d found a sitter before consulting her. But she didn’t have a damned thing to wear. And even if she did, her leg was misshapen, swollen. She couldn’t wear a cocktail dress without embarrassing herself.
But when Kate said, “Great! It’ll be such fun for Trisha,” she knew she couldn’t get out of this.
And the first paycheck she’d lovingly tucked into her blue jean pocket would go for some kind of dressy pantsuit or inconspicuous long dress that would hide her leg.
CHAPTER SIX
ON SATURDAY MORNING, Chance didn’t awaken until ten. But when his eyes did pop open, he jumped out of bed and raced into the room where Tory was playing on the floor with his kids.
“Isn’t this your day off?”
She glanced over with a smile, but her gaze fell to his bare chest then crawled down his abs to the waistband of his sweatpants.
At first, Chance wanted to curse at his stupidity, but a very foreign, almost absurd idea entered his head. He liked that she was as attracted to him as he was to her. She was a very sweet woman who loved his kids. In his still-half-asleep state, he couldn’t remember why her liking him was bad.
She bounced off the floor. “You’re right. It is my day off and I need to get going. I wanted you to get a little energy reserve before you handled the kids by yourself all day. So I let you sleep in.” She headed for her room. “But now I have to get moving.”
Chance watched her race down the hall and disappear behind the door of her room. Okay. So she wasn’t quite as happy as he was about the attraction. But he’d seen the hungry look that came to her face when her gaze fell to his chest. Not to be vain, but she’d liked what she’d seen. They’d had too many of those “we’re attracted” moments for him to pretend there was nothing between them.
She came out of the bedroom dressed in jeans and a sweater and sunglasses and his heart skipped a beat. The jeans and sweater showcased her ample bosom and cute, round behind. The sunglasses made her look classy, sexy.
“I’m shopping with my mom and dressing at my parents’ house for the party. Kate and Trisha will be here around six to give Trisha an hour with you and Kate and the kids so everybody can get to know everybody before Trisha is left alone with them.”
She reached the door, turned, smiled and said, “Bye,” and raced out.
He stared at the closed door, his heart pounding in his chest, his hormones racing through his blood like cars in the Indy 500.
Max was right. He c
ouldn’t spend his life avoiding family because their dad was a jerk. And—if he took Max’s advice one step further—he couldn’t spend his life avoiding women because of Liliah.
It had been over a year since she had dumped him. Yet, he’d totally stayed away from women for fifteen months. Was it any wonder he found himself falling for the only woman he’d come into close contact with? Tory might be an attractive woman, but being in a relationship with her was wrong. So maybe the answer wasn’t to get rid of her, but to find another woman.
Maybe it was time to come back to the land of the living?
When seven o’clock arrived, Chance hesitated at the door of his cottage. That afternoon Max had gotten him to commit to working for Montgomery Development. That was the good part. The bad part was that he’d now have to hire Tory permanently. And that meant he had to mingle with women. Get himself out there into the dating world so he’d stop being so attracted to a woman who might be attracted to him, but didn’t want to be.
Still, knowing he was going to a party with the intention of, well, talking to women made him feel awkward about leaving his kids.
“It doesn’t seem right to go.”
His fourteen-year-old niece laughed. She had long dark hair like her mom’s and her dad’s lanky frame. She also wore braces that winked when she said, “We’re fine. I babysat Clayton so much I practically raised him for my mom.”
He laughed. Clay was her three-year-old brother. And seeing how Kate doted on him the night he’d had dinner at their house, he sincerely doubted Trisha had been as much a party to his raising as she thought. But he appreciated that his niece was trying to ease his nervousness so he said, “I’ll bet you did.”
She shooed him away. “Seriously. Go. I have Gram’s number and your cell and even the cell number for your nanny.”
He stopped, faced her. “You do?”
“Yeah, Mom got it for me.”
Was it just him or was it odd that Tory hadn’t given him her cell number?
True, he could call the cottage if he needed to check on the kids, but what if he needed to reach her when she wasn’t home?