“I brought you coffee,” he said.
I blinked in surprise, and then took the mug, careful to avoid any skin contact. “Wow. Thanks.”
“Sure.”
I felt his eyes on me as I took a sip.
“Wow,” I said again. My vocabulary was shrinking by the second. “This is amazing coffee.”
“I know, right? My dad’s a coffee snob. So am I, thanks to him.”
I kept my eyes on the coffee mug, unsure of how to respond to this Slade.
The car pulled out of the parking lot, and we sped toward the kids. He shut off the radio, silencing a couple of guys who’d been arguing about the Rockies’ chances of winning against the Dodgers on Friday.
“So,” he said. “What’s the plan for today?”
“Zoo,” I said, swallowing the scalding coffee.
He nodded. “Sounds good.”
We sat in silence then he spoke again. “How was your Tuesday?”
I took a deep breath. “It was okay,” I said. “I hung out with my mom.”
He glanced at me. “Are you and your mom close?”
“Yeah.” We had no choice. Dad bailed not long after Brian died, so it was Mom and me against the world.
“That’s good.” He smiled, almost shy.
“How was your day off?” I asked.
He didn’t reply but I saw his jaw tighten. “Okay.”
I wondered what that was about. An image of the girls from the park passed through the TV screen in my mind.
“Something strange happened, though,” he said.
“Really? What?”
“This girl I know skipped her swim lesson. Apparently she dropped out.”
I flushed under his stare, willing him to focus on the road instead of me.
“I guess she had a problem with the instructor,” he continued. “I heard the guy can be kind of a dick.”
My mouth opened in surprise, and he sighed next to me.
“Did you quit because of me?” he asked, his intense gaze feeling like it burned my skin.
The question hung there between us.
How could I explain this to him? I still felt raw, the pain of Brian’s anniversary still so fresh. “It’s just…taking these lessons is hard enough…and you—”
“Made it even harder.”
It was true, but not in the way he probably imagined.
“I switched my lessons last Saturday,” I said.
Our eyes met briefly, and his flickered in surprise.
“Oh,” he said. “So…before I was a total dick at the park on Monday?”
I laughed softly. “Yes. It was a pre-dick switch.”
His laughter made my heart flutter, rousing it from its post-anniversary sadness.
“Is that a compliment?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I said, relaxing a little. I liked this Slade so much better than the one who’d ignored me. “But I didn’t switch because of you specifically. I would have switched out of any class taught by someone I know. It’s just too embarrassing.”
I watched his hands tighten on the steering wheel. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed just because you never learned as a kid.” He paused. “Why didn’t you, anyway?”
I swallowed over the lump that rose in my throat. “I’d rather not talk about it.” I met his gaze. His eyes were kind. Not a trace of mockery to be seen. Could I tell him? Did I want to?
“So,” he said, suddenly looking back at the road. “Any bets on which kid will freak out today? Maybe Max has an undiscovered fear of elephants.”
I laughed. “Let’s not take Gilly into the bird exhibit. All those wings fluttering. Just to be safe.”
“Deal,” he agreed.
Nobody was afraid of the penguins. Or the elephants. Or the giraffes. The hyenas, however, were another story.
Max backed away from the railing. “They look like mean dogs,” he said, reaching for Slade’s hand.
“Yeah,” Gillian agreed, looking up at me. “Did you bring your magic?”
Slade winked, and my heart dive-bombed to my feet.
Gilly tugged at my hand. “Max said you have magic skin. Is it true?”
Pretty soon all of Denver was going to be talking about freaky Trina and her magic wrists.
“I don’t think we need magic today,” I said. “The hyenas won’t hurt us.”
“Hyenas?” Max squeaked. He and Gilly gaped at each other, terrified.
“Like in the Lion King?” Gilly asked, bottom lip quivering.
Uh oh.
“Who wants a snow cone?” Slade said. “I bet you guys can’t beat me to the snack shack.” He took off slowly, jogging backward, but managing not to crash into anyone. Max and Gilly giggled and chased after him.
Crisis averted, at least for now.
The rest of day was easy and fun. No tears or freak-outs or potty accidents or attempts at full or partial nudity. We ended the day by riding the train around the zoo. I sat next to Gilly, who was entranced by the pink flamingoes.
“I want pink hair!” she declared, looking up at me. “Can your magic do that?”
“I’ve never tried,” I told her. “Besides, your hair is almost pink.”
She tugged at her red braids. “No it’s not.”
“I think Trina’s magic is only for special occasions,” Slade said from behind us. I glanced over my shoulder. He and Max sat next to each other, with Max holding the penguin flag he’d bought in the gift shop, watching it flutter in the breeze.
“True,” I agreed, daring myself to keep my eyes locked onto Slade’s. He didn’t look away.
We rounded a corner of the track. The conductor blew the train whistle and every kid on the train cheered, including me.
We disembarked and I adjusted my shorts, hoping Slade wasn’t watching.
He was.
After we took the kids home and chatted with each mom, Slade insisted on driving me to my apartment, even though I tried to take the bus.
We pulled into the parking lot, and he slowed the car. “Which building are you in?”
I sucked in my breath. “Just drop me here.”
He stared at me. “I can at least drop you at your building.”
“No,” I said. “This is fine.”
He sighed. “You’re stubborn. Anyone ever tell you that?”
“Occasionally,” I said. “What’s on the agenda for Friday?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Um, I have a couple of ideas. Maybe I can call you later?”
“Sure.”
He looked relieved. “Today was fun,” he said. “Was this the first day one of them didn’t freak out?”
“Nobody freaked out Monday at the park.”
He grimaced. “Except me,” he said.
Before I realized what I was doing, I’d reached out to touch his arm. “It’s okay. No one’s perfect.” Not even you.
We stared at each other, and before I knew it, words spilled out of me in a rush, like a waterfall of confession.
“I can’t swim because my brother drowned. When he was five. I was six.” I took a jagged breath. “My mom totally lost it. She wouldn’t let me near the water.” I twisted my hands, staring at my chipped nail polish. “But I decided this summer…” I inhaled deeply, then more words spilled out. “I’m tired of not knowing how. Of always being scared. Feeling left out.” I raised my gaze to his and caught my breath at the darkening color of his topaz eyes. “So that’s why…anyway….” My voice trailed away.
His eyes never left mine. “Trina. I’m so sorry.” His voice sounded almost choked. “I’m sorry for asking.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know.” I swallowed, willing away the lump rising in my throat. “Not many people do, since it happened before we moved to Colorado.”
He nodded. “Thank you. For telling me.”
I opened the car door, needing to get away. I could feel the sympathy oozing out of him, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
“I’
ll see you Friday. Let me know your plan.” I forced a smile. “No alligator wrestling.”
His answering smile was brief, fading quickly. I saw a million questions in his eyes, but I was grateful he didn’t ask them.
Nanny notes: Zoo
CONS: My crush on the other nanny. Telling him my deepest secret.
PROS: My crush on the other nanny. Telling him my deepest secret.
CONS: Me being stupid enough to give into this crush. Because we all know it’s going nowhere.
PROS: But it feels so good.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Trina
June 20, Thursday
I sat on a couch, reading to five little kids, all of them riveted by the story of The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, Slade’s favorite book.
Sharon appeared in the doorway, rubbing her forehead.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I’ve got to rearrange the rooms. Move beds into that room I’ve been using for storage. We’re getting a mom with three kids, day after tomorrow.” She sighed. “It’ll be tight, but I want them to come here. They’ve been on the street far too long.”
“Can I help?”
She tilted her head and gave me a tiny smile. “If only your biceps were as big as your heart, sweetie. That’s the problem. Glen’s out of town, so I don’t have my strong man around. I don’t think you and I can do it ourselves.”
“So you need a Superman?” I pictured Slade’s well-defined muscles as he climbed out of the pool on that swim lesson day from hell. This was kind of an emergency. “Um, I might be able to get someone.”
Sharon raised an eyebrow. “Boyfriend? You’ve been holding out on me, girl.”
I blushed. “Just a friend. My nanny partner that I told you about.”
Sharon’s mouth quirked. “Well, if you think he can do it, great. He’s probably going to need a friend to move the heavy stuff. You and I can manage the smaller items.”
I bit my lip. Would he help me out? We’d had a good day at the zoo yesterday.
I remembered the way his expression softened when I’d told him about Brian. Would he feel obligated to help me, out of pity for the girl with the dead brother? I shook my head to clear away those stupid thoughts. This wasn’t about me. It was about getting a family into a safe place.
“I’ll text him right now.”
Sharon nodded. “Make sure he brings a friend. I don’t want to be responsible for any injuries to Super Nanny.” She gave me a knowing smile as she backed out of the room. “I’m going back into the attic to see what other furniture we can use.”
“Watch out for dust bunnies.”
She laughed. “Way too late for that.”
“We’ll finish the story later, kiddos. I need to help Sharon.” I extricated myself from the tiny arms and limbs encircling me on the couch and moved to the hallway.
Any chance you’re free tonight? As soon as I hit send, I freaked. Now he was going to think I was asking him out.
His reply was fast. Depends on what you have in mind.
Was that flirting? Or was he weighing his other options for the evening? I suspected I ranked much lower than whatever blonde he was currently into. I squeezed my eyes shut, reminding myself this was not about me.
I need you to bring a friend. Someone strong. Once again, I cringed the second after I hit send.
BB! I had no idea you were that kind of girl. Not sure I can oblige your kinky desires.
The only saving grace was that he couldn’t see my mortified face. I was considering chucking my phone into the trash when it rang. I took a deep breath before I answered.
“Trina Clemons. I’m shocked. Clearly I’ve misjudged you.” I heard laughter in his voice, and a hint of something else, something that made my heart speed up.
“Uh, no you haven’t. Misjudged me, I mean. It was, um, not the best text I’ve ever sent.”
His laughter was low, making me grip the phone tighter. “I disagree. That was probably the best text you’ve ever sent me.”
“Slade. I’m serious. I need your help.”
“What’s up? You okay?” It sounded like he’d stood up straight and wiped the smirk off his face.
“Yeah, I’m fine. But I need someone strong to um…” my voice trailed away as I realized I’d just unwittingly told him I’d noticed his muscles. I struggled to sound normal. “It’s this place I volunteer at. A homeless shelter. We need to move some heavy furniture to make room for a new family.”
He was quiet for a moment. I wondered if he was figuring out how to say no in a nice way.
“So what you’re saying is you want me for my body. You want to use me for the night.”
I cringed. “Yes that’s exactly what I’m saying. And I need to use one of your friends, too.”
“Hmm…” His voice hummed into the phone, making me shiver. “What’s in it for me?”
That snapped me out of my daze. “What’s in it for you? You’ll be doing a good deed! Helping out at a homeless shelt—”
“BB,” he interrupted. “You need a better sarcasm radar. Tell me where and when.”
My breath caught. “Really?”
“Yes, Trina. Really, I’ll show up to help you. Really, I’ll bring a friend. Really, I’m not a total dick. I just play one on TV.”
My answering laugh was almost giddy. “I’ll text you the address. And thank you, Slade. It means a lot to me.”
“My body’s always available for a good cause. You should keep that in mind.”
“Uh…I need to go. I’ll see you later.”
“Later, BB.”
I heard his laughter in my ears as I climbed the attic ladder to tell Sharon the good news.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Slade
June 20, Thursday
“So when are you going to pay up?” Alex asked as we drove to the address Trina had texted me.
I glanced at him, feigning innocence. “Pay up? For what?”
He smirked at me. “I seem to recall we had a wager. About you. Something about falling in love.”
My hands tightened on the steering wheel, but I tried to make my voice light. “What are you smoking, dude? I’m just helping out a…friend. Besides, the bet wasn’t about love, it was about making Trina chill out.”
A twinge of guilt ran through me. Now that I knew about Trina’s brother, the bet we’d made felt wrong.
Alex tapped his forehead with his finger. “Paging through years of memories. Lots of girls. Lots of hookups. Yet not one memory of you helping out a pixie chick. On the wrong side of town. Just because.”
We were both silent as we parked in front of the ancient house with a hand-lettered sign out front: Redemption Women’s Shelter. Lives saved, one day at a time.
Trash littered most of the block, but the grass in the tiny yard in front of the shelter was green, not brown. A few straggly flowers wilted over the sides of a yellow planter on the crumbling front steps.
Alex sighed next to me. “Have you ever volunteered anywhere before? Ever been in a place like this?”
I turned off the car and glared at him, annoyed. “You think I can’t handle it?”
He rolled his eyes. “Of course you can handle it. It’s just…these places can be really sad.”
“You’ve been here before?” I was surprised.
“Not here, but another shelter. For runaways. Most of them rejected by their families because they’re gay.”
Damn. I didn’t know what to say to that.
“Wow,” I finally said. “I didn’t know.”
Alex shrugged. “Yeah. I go there a few nights a month, in case they want to talk to someone. Sometimes they do. Sometimes not.”
I nodded, still not sure what to say. Ever since I’d gotten Trina’s texted plea for help, interrupting me during 10 Things I Hate About You, my day had been full of surprises.
Was I the only loser not trying to save the world? I grimaced as I jerked the key out of the ignition. “Let’
s go.”
I got out and slammed the car door. Alex knocked against my shoulder as we walked up the crumbling sidewalk. “Did I piss you off?”
I kicked at some loose gravel. “Not really.” If I was pissed at anyone, it was myself.
Bars covered all the windows, and a security door barred easy entry. A handwritten sign told us to buzz, so I did.
“Yes?” Trina’s voice was recognizable, even over the crummy old speaker mounted next to the door.
I spoke into it. “It’s your knight in shining armor. With his trusty sidekick.”
Alex waggled his eyebrows at me. “What was that you said about not falling in—”
“I’m just kidding around with her. It’s what we do.”
His eyebrows shot up even higher. “You and Bird Brain going on Comedy Central together?”
“Shut up. And don’t call her Bird B—” The door swung open before I could finish my sentence.
Trina wore a red tank top and torn denim shorts—the same thing she’d worn to Putt-Putt golf, when I’d suddenly seen her in a whole new way. Uh oh. I tried not to stare at her legs. But that meant I had to look at her face. And her lips.
She unlocked the door and held it open for us, smiling nervously. “Thank you so much.” Her eyes darted from me to Alex and back to me again. “Both of you. This is such a huge help.”
Alex grinned. “We aim to serve, madam. Take us to the heavy lifting.”
“This way,” Trina said, leading us through a dining room with an ancient table and chairs and to a steep staircase. “The bad news is the beds are in the attic, and we need to move them down.” She gave us an apologetic smile. “I was thinking…maybe I can buy you guys dinner when we’re done? To thank you.”
Before I could reply, Alex spoke up. “You don’t need to do that. Besides, I have a date tonight, so I can’t do dinner.” He glanced at me. “How about you, Edmunds? You have plans for tonight?”
I smiled at Trina, who stood a few steps above us on the worn stairs. “I do now,” I said. “Trina’s buying me dinner.”
Even in the dark hallway I saw her blush. I hoped that meant she wanted to spend time with me. She was so hard to read. Maybe one of these days I’d crack the entire code.
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