“So when you told me about what it was like growing up under your grandfather’s rules,” he said, “you told me that part of why you were here this summer was to make sure you don’t fall into his way of doing things—the kind of structure and control you grew up with. Does that tie into this, too?”
Meg’s eyebrows rose all on their own, surprised. “Wow, you remembered that. And put it together with this.” But now that he had, now that she was being honest with him, she might as well let him know that he was right. “Yes, it does tie into this,” she said. “Since the stabbing I’ve been jumpier, more fearful—”
“That seems reasonable.”
“If it stays within reason. But I started to find myself needing absolute control over situations—if my playgroups got a little wild or noisy I started to get panicky. An accidentally dropped toy was sending me jumping as high as if somebody shot off a gun. I was way too stressed-out dealing with volatile parents and rather than being diplomatic I’d hear myself being more dictatorial. I was finding myself holding back when I knew I should have been doing some therapeutic provocation or confrontation…”
She hesitated but by then she thought that she’d already gone this far, she might as well go the whole way.
“I started to worry that if I didn’t nip this in the bud I might turn more into my grandfather than I want to be—all uptight and rigid all the time.” Not that some things didn’t need to be controlled—like what being with Logan stirred in her.
Meg shook her head. “I haven’t told anyone this last part. I’m not sure why I’m telling you—you’re probably going to think I’m crazy.”
“I’d think you were crazy if you didn’t come away from being stabbed feeling on edge and needing to get back some sense of control. But it seems to me that deciding to get away for a while and regroup—which is really what this nannying thing is, isn’t it—”
“It is,” she agreed, grateful that he was taking that view of it, that he was understanding while not blowing it out of proportion.
“Well, it seems to me that getting away, relaxing, regrouping before it’s too late and you end up like the Reverend, is a smart thing to do. It seems therapeutic,” he finished, making a joke by using her terminology.
It made Meg grin and marvel at how much better she felt suddenly. “So you’re okay with my using your daughter as my self-prescribed therapy to loosen up?”
“Sure. I think you’re more worried about being wound too tight than actually wound too tight. I haven’t seen anything about the way you are with Tia to think that you’re acting like your grandfather around her. In fact, I heard some stories about root beer floats after her bath and letting her fall asleep in front of the television while I was gone—that doesn’t sound like anything the Reverend would approve of.”
Meg laughed. “The Reverend definitely wouldn’t have approved. But kids need a little flexibility when they’re sick.”
“I just hope the fact that you could be flexible didn’t convince you that you’re cured and make you want to go back to your other work.”
“You want me to stay a basket case?”
“I just want you to stay.”
Oh…
He was still looking at her in the dim glow of the lights that trailed up the side of the garage to the apartment door and Meg’s eyes met his, basking in the warmth in them, unable not to feel as if all was right with the world again now that he was home.
Then, without any warning at all and for no reason Meg could figure out, he leaned forward, over that arm still braced on his knee, and kissed her.
It was the same way he’d kissed her on the Wednesday night before he’d left—soft, barely there. But just when Meg was afraid he was going to end it again in a hurry—like he had that other kiss—he deepened it instead.
He pressed his lips more firmly to hers and they parted in a way that prompted hers to part, too. And there was movement—a sensual, soothing, mesmerizing movement—to go with it.
The entire week he’d been gone she’d thought about that other kiss, she’d wondered what it would be like for him to kiss her again. She’d wanted him to so badly she’d even dreamed that he had. And now he was. And even if it was still a relatively tame kiss, it was so much better than that other one, so much better than she’d even imagined…
Then just when she was really getting into it, he ended it to breathe a sort of sigh, sort of chuckle, and say, “So much for promises of no kissing.”
Meg knew she should probably have registered an admonishment against breaking promises. Against the kissing. But the truth was she just wished he’d break the promise again and kiss her some more.
But she couldn’t say that. So all she said was, “I’m glad you’re back.”
That made him smile a crooked and pleased smile. “Me, too.”
Then he swooped in for another kiss—that one exactly like the one the week before—and got to his feet.
“You have a big day tomorrow getting ready for your sister’s wedding,” he said. “Hadley told me she’s taking over with Tia so you can do everything you need to do for it.”
“I have to start helping Kate with last-minute things at seven tomorrow morning,” Meg explained.
“That means we won’t see you until the wedding tomorrow night?”
Since her sister Kate’s groom was Ry Grayson, Logan, Hadley and Tia had been invited to the wedding of their newest family member.
“Hadley said she didn’t mind,” Meg said. “But if she gets up feeling too sick to do it, I can bring Tia with me.” Although dealing with the energetic three-year-old in the process of wedding preparations would not be ideal.
“Don’t worry about it,” Logan said. “We’ll manage without you and see you at the wedding. I’m looking forward to it.”
He made that sound as if he were looking forward to it because of her.
But Meg tried not to take that to heart.
“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow night, then?” he added.
She nodded.
He nodded back. But for a moment he just stood there, looking at her as if he hadn’t yet gotten his fill.
Then he smiled a smaller smile than before and said, “Good night, moon. Good night, Meg,” the way they had to say good-night to Tia every night.
Meg laughed but there was something about it that seemed private and intimate, something that made her feel as if there was some connection between them that she knew she shouldn’t let herself feel.
“Good night, Logan,” she whispered from where she’d remained sitting on the steps.
Then she stood, too, turning to go to her apartment.
But even when she was halfway up and glanced over her shoulder she still found him standing where he’d been before, watching her.
He waved a reflexive wave and finally set off for the house, leaving Meg only one glimpse of him before she went inside.
Thinking as she did that no amount of girl-time had been as good as even just a scant hour with him.
And that probably meant she was in a little trouble when it came to Logan McKendrick…
Chapter Seven
New charcoal-gray suit. New dove-colored silk shirt and matching tie. New cuff links. New shoes. All of it more expensive than anything Logan had ever bought for himself before.
Everything chosen with Meg Perry in the back of his mind.
As Logan tied the tie on Friday evening shortly before he, Hadley and Tia were scheduled to leave for Meg’s sister’s wedding, he wondered what the hell was going on with him.
Not that that was anything new these days—he’d been wondering that same thing for a while now. It had definitely been a theme during his trip, when he’d realized that he was actually missing the nanny he’d only spent a few days with before he’d left.
How could that even be? he asked himself as he adjusted the knot. He looked in the mirror that was over the sink in the bathroom connected to his bedroom and judged the knot too big. How could
he have missed Meg while he was away?
He had missed Tia—of course. But the nanny?
It just didn’t make sense, he thought as he untied the tie and started over again.
Chase thought he had it bad for her. That’s what his friend had accused when Meg’s name had cropped up in too many things Logan had said and—according to his partner—in a tone and with a look on his face that screamed that she wasn’t just the nanny to him.
Logan had denied it. But Chase knew him too well. Chase hadn’t believed him.
“So you have a thing for the nanny? Good for you,” Chase had said.
But Logan didn’t think it was good for him.
Not that Meg wasn’t great—she was. Exquisite, sweet, patient, kind, funny, easy to talk to and sexy in a quiet understated way that made him itch to see what was simmering below the surface.
There really wasn’t anything about her not to like. At least when she wasn’t in psychologist-mode. And it wasn’t even that he didn’t like her when she was in psychologist-mode, it was just that those were the times that reminded him of the gap between them.
Maybe it was too bad she wasn’t like that all the time—it might help if he could keep that gap between them in mind more consistently. But as it was, when she was just Everyday-Meg rather than Psychologist-Meg, he was a sucker for her.
And that was dangerous.
“She’s only vacationing as the nanny,” he told his reflection in the mirror as he untied his second attempt at a knot and started over a third time. “As soon as she has her sea legs back, she’ll be out of here.”
Which was fine. He’d meant what he’d told her when they’d first met—that he only wanted her for the summer, that after that he would probably put Tia in preschool and maybe a day or two of day care just so she could have contact with other kids. The nanny thing was temporary, while they settled in and got the business up and running again after the move.
What he hadn’t expected was that wanting Meg for the summer would end up having a different meaning for him.
Because damn if he didn’t want want her…
He’d been hoping that the week away might help. That he might be able to cool off. To get a grip. But how was that supposed to have happened when he’d thought about her the whole time? When the image of her had been right there in his head almost every minute? When closing his eyes to sleep every night had meant seeing her as vividly as if videos of her were playing on the inside of his eyelids?
Meg smiling. Meg laughing. Meg playing with Tia. Meg bending over to pick Tia up and unknowingly showing a little cleavage. Meg at the counter cutting vegetables, her butt so tight and round he had to fight to keep from reaching out and grabbing it. Meg in the back of his mind when he’d picked out these clothes and wondered if those great emerald green eyes of hers would light up when she first saw him in them…
Jeez, what was he, fourteen?
And obviously the week away hadn’t helped. Not even the two nights he and Chase had spent in clubs buying other women drinks, when all he’d been able to do was compare each and every other woman to Meg and find them lacking.
“She’s a doctor of psychology. Eventually you are going to bore her,” he told his reflection.
But right now?
Right now the wheels were definitely beginning to turn. One look at her coming in from the back of the house last night and it was as if someone had turned on the sun just for him. It didn’t matter that he’d been traveling all day. It didn’t matter that he was tired and a little hungover. Nothing had mattered but that Meg was there.
One look at her and all he could think was that he had to come up with some reason to have even just a few minutes alone with her.
That’s when he’d known for sure that the trip hadn’t done a single thing to help cool him off. That and when just sitting with her on the steps, talking with her, had been a better time than either of those nights clubbing with Chase and the bevy of women his friend attracted.
Nothing could compete with just being with Meg, being able to look at that delicate, porcelain-perfect face and feel the warmth of her nearby, and hear the sound of her voice again.
Oh yeah, he had it bad for the nanny…
So what was he going to do about it? he asked himself as he decided the third knot in his tie could stay.
He knew what he should do—he should tell her he’d decided he didn’t need a nanny after all and send her away before things went any further than they already had.
It was a solution. A firm and final solution that meant that whatever it was that kept pulling him toward her wouldn’t be able to pull him toward her any more. He’d be saved from ever reaching the point where he bored her.
But there was just no way in hell he was going to do it.
“So you’ll just let things happen and suffer the consequences?” he asked his reflection scornfully.
The answer was yes, that was exactly what he was going to do, the risk he was going to take. Because the only way to stop it was to send Meg away and he couldn’t make himself do that.
“Then you get what you get,” he told his reflection. “If you don’t do what you need to do to protect yourself, you’re gonna get leveled. Again.”
Maybe he was as stupid as he’d been taken for in the past.
Or maybe he could just go with what Chase thought—Chase thought this was nothing but a little infatuation with the first woman who had roused anything in him since Helene. Chase thought he should simply go with the flow, knowing that in a short while Meg would move on.
He and Chase had done plenty of that in the old days when they’d traveled around the country, never staying in any one place for too long. The fact that now it would be Meg moving on instead of him didn’t matter, the principle was still the same—whatever went on between them was a temporary thing, he could enjoy it while it lasted, and not make anything more of it than it was.
He hadn’t agreed or disagreed with Chase when his partner had suggested it, he’d merely changed the subject. But now he thought why not?
Meg was an adult who also knew their time together had a limit. Even Tia knew Meg wasn’t a permanent fixture. And Meg hadn’t balked either time he’d kissed her. In fact, the night before he’d kissed her that first time he could have sworn she was going to kiss him.
So what was the harm in enjoying Meg’s company while she was here? He hadn’t met any woman whose company he’d enjoyed this way since his divorce, he hadn’t really dated, he hadn’t done anything but be a single dad and keep his nose to the grindstone. Hadn’t he earned a little…well, whatever this was? Sitting outside on summer nights talking, kissing, maybe dancing with her at her sister’s wedding tonight…
Dammit, he thought he had earned it. And he was going to stop making a bigger deal out of it than it was. So he liked the nanny, so what?
And hell, he might even manage not to bore her in the short run.
But even if he did, what was the worst that could come of it? That she’d go back to Denver and a life he had no doubt was full of other psychologists and doctors and educated people who could keep her Ph.D. muscles toned? She was going to do that anyway. If he bored her sooner rather than later and she left early, there was nothing he could do about that.
But in the meantime, he could just ride this infatuation train as far as it went. No harm, no foul…
“Daddy! Daddy! Lookit me! I look like a pitty lady!”
Logan stepped out of the bathroom. There was nothing ladylike about the way Tia bounded into his bedroom then.
“Lookit!” the three-year-old demanded when she stopped in the center of the room and twirled around.
He knew that Meg and Hadley had taken Tia shopping for the occasion but this was the first he’d seen of his daughter’s new dress. It was blue taffeta with brown polka dots and a brown sash that separated the top from the full, ankle-length skirt.
“This can’t be my Tia,” Logan said. “This must be someone else. So
me pretty, pretty lady who Aunt Had let in.”
“Uh-uh, iss me!” Tia said with delight.
“Hold still so I can see for sure,” he said to stop the twirling before she got dizzy and fell.
Tia went into an instant freeze, posing like a statue. “See? Iss me!”
“It is you! And you are the most beautiful little girl I have ever seen!”
Tia puckered up her lips as if in an exaggerated kiss to display them, too, talking that way. “And lookit—I gots on lisstick.”
As far as Logan could tell, his sister must have applied some gloss. “Beautiful, just beautiful,” he assured. “You even let Aunt Had put barrettes in your hair?”
“They goes wis the dress,” Tia said matter-of-factly of the hair adornments that she usually wouldn’t allow to contain her curls.
Then, as if reciting something she’d been coached to say, she added, “An’ Had tole me to say she’s waitin’ downstairs.”
Logan held out his hand for his daughter to take. “I guess we better get going then,” he said.
But it wasn’t his daughter’s or his sister’s urging that really caused his eagerness to leave.
Now that he’d made up his mind to roll with whatever it was that was happening with Meg, he couldn’t wait to get to her….
Meg thought that her sister Kate’s wedding was like Kate herself—the ceremony was elegant and serious the way Kate was on the surface, the reception was a little on the wild side like the underlying Kate.
Their stoic grandfather performed the service in the flower-bedecked living room of Theresa Grayson’s house, then stood back to scowl at the picnic-fare food that was served under a tent outside while a local rock band kept things lively.
Theresa Grayson had only attended her other two grandchildren’s recent weddings from behind the scenes, watching the ceremonies at a distance where she couldn’t be seen herself. But the persuasive talents of Ry Grayson and the presence of Logan, Hadley and Tia convinced even the reticent Theresa to make an appearance at this one. Tia, in particular, drew out the elderly woman, but Meg thought that was understandable—who could resist Tia’s delight at being there in her first party dress?
Marrying the Northbridge Nanny Page 9