Kiss and Confess (Love Unscripted Book 1)

by Jane Lynne Daniels

  “And we’ve made up nametags you can put on each child. I’d suggest putting it on the back. Can’t peel it off as easy that way and there are a few little firecrackers who will try.” She winked. “I’ll be back periodically to check on you.”

  Nametag-peeling firecrackers? This wasn’t looking good.

  “We’ll be fine,” Marc assured her. “Not so sure about the kids, but we’ll be good.”

  Rose’s sunny expression changed to one of concern. She twisted her long brown hair into a knot and snapped it into submission with a rubber band, never taking her eyes off them.

  “He’s kidding,” Charley said, wrapping one hand firmly around his arm. “We will take good care of the children. But if you can come around every so often just to check in, we would appreciate it.” Her hand left Marc’s arm to nudge his side.

  “Yes,” he said on cue. “Appreciate it.”

  “Good. All right.” Rose nodded uncertainly. “Have fun then.”

  “We will,” Charley promised.

  When Rose left, Charley turned to Marc. “I don’t think I was anywhere close to being a miracle in second grade,” she confided.

  He chortled. “I was more of a menace than a miracle in second grade, but my teacher pretty much expected it. She’d had my brothers and sisters in her class before I got there.”

  Charley gave his arm a light squeeze. “But look how well you turned out.” From the corner of her eye, she saw the camera focus in on them. She reached up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. Take that, All Natural Pets. Second Chance will make it without your money.

  Marc turned and, cradling her chin with his hand, kissed her on the lips.

  Sweet and close to tender. She should have liked it and gone back for more. Instead, she pulled away, giving him a playful pat on the arm. “Our kids are going to be here any minute.”

  “Our kids.” He put his index finger against his cheek and looked up, as if pondering the words. “I like the way that sounds.”

  She was saved from having to respond to his musings by the sound of the classroom door opening. A harried-looking couple entered, the father holding the hands of identical twin girls and the mother cradling a toddler in her arms.

  “Hi,” the mom said, darting shy glances at the camera. She walked to Charley. “This is Johnston. He just turned two.”

  “Aww. He’s so cute. Hi, Johnston.” Not so easy to say. That “t” really got in the way. “Does he go by a nickname? Jon?” She would be extra efficient, she decided, and write each child’s nickname on the roster. Ha. The school hadn’t thought of that.

  The mother’s forehead frowned, disturbing her neat row of bangs. “No. We call him Johnston. That’s what we named him. Why would we shorten it?”

  “Okay. I just thought— Never mind.” Behind her, Marc was making an odd sound. She was pretty sure he was trying not to laugh.

  The mom turned to the twins. “This is Alexandra. And Andrea.”

  She smiled at the girls, whose eyes grew wide. The mom had dressed them in matching pink outfits. “We had better get nametags on you two right away, so we can tell you apart.”

  “It’s not hard, really,” the mom said. “And they’re five years old, so they can tell you.”

  Marc handed over the nametags, and the kids’ father, at Marc’s suggestion, put them on the appropriate backs.

  The woman set a diaper bag down and held Johnston out to Charley, who placed him on her hip, as she’d seen mothers do. The little boy, apparently possessing the same ability as horses to smell fear, opened his pink mouth and began to roar.

  The man released his hold on his daughters to pluck at his wife’s sleeve. “We’d better leave.”

  “Yes. Okay.” She hesitated. “But maybe, I don’t know—”

  “Date night,” he said, taking her arm and steering her toward the door.

  Charley sensed they didn’t get too many of those.

  “The baby will be fine once we go,” the mother called over her shoulder, sounding less than convinced.

  Tears streamed down Johnston’s face as he looked from Charley to his parents and back again, crying with all the energy his small body could muster.

  “I’ll take him,” Marc said easily, scooping him from Charley’s arms. “Hey, little man. What’s the problem?” He took a tissue from a box on the teacher’s desk and wiped Johnston’s face. Then he began circling the toddler through the air, dipping and weaving.

  The boy stopped crying to look at Marc, apparently trying to decide whether to keep up his protest or change course and have fun. When the latter prevailed, the tears dried up as quickly as they had appeared.

  “I thought you said you didn’t know what to do with kids.”

  “Distraction,” he answered. “Works every time.”

  Charley felt two pairs of eyes boring into her. She dropped to one knee. “Hello, Alexandra and Andrea.”

  “Hi,” the girls said as one, turning their shoulders in and smiling shyly.

  “I’m pretty sure I saw some coloring books and crayons over here. Should we go see?”

  They nodded, each taking one of Charley’s hands. She’d no sooner settled them into coloring than the door opened again.

  In strode a woman with kind eyes and behind her, a boy of about eight with ketchup smeared across his face. She nudged him forward. “Hi. My husband’s waiting in the car. This is Will.” She then caught sight of his face and laughed. “Sorry. Drive-through dinner. He eats too fast.” She grabbed a damp wipe from her purse and had him cleaned up with one practiced swipe. “Thanks,” she called as she left.

  In the next ten minutes, they’d met—and been charged with caring for—an Audrey, two Bens, a Julio, and a skinny six-year-old with glasses, allergies, and the unlikely name of Tex.

  Once another ten minutes had gone by, Tex had sequestered himself in the reading corner with a pile of books and an unwillingness to speak. To anyone. Ben T. and Ben Z., who were in the same fifth grade class at the school and apparently didn’t much like each other, were circling like two undersized gunslingers, waiting for the other to make his move.

  Will searched for food. Julio buried himself in a game on his phone. Audrey tried to play school with Alexandra and Andrea, who seemed to have made a silent pact to stare at her open-mouthed instead of running through the lessons Audrey was determined to teach.

  Johnston, who had developed a crush on Marc, refused to be put down. Instead, he directed Marc over to his diaper bag, where Johnston reached in and pulled out a ragged bear that he clasped to his chest.

  “At least they’re occupied,” Charley said to Marc. “That has to be good.”

  “True,” Marc said, before his attention was caught by one Ben giving the other a hard push on the shoulder. “Here.” He thrust Johnston into her arms and made his way across the room.

  Johnston took one look at Charley and began to wail inconsolably. She tried cooing at him, but he only cried harder. After a couple of minutes, she wanted to join him. A nasty odor floated up to her nostrils and his diaper took on a warm mushy quality she couldn’t ignore.

  She set him on his feet.

  His eyes widened and he stopped crying, apparently unable to believe her capable of such behavior. Then he let out an outraged scream.

  Will appeared at her side. “I’m hungry,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over Johnston. “Hungry,” he repeated, pulling at the hem of Charley’s shirt.

  “But you ate right before you came.” Did she know how to change a diaper? Had she ever in her life changed one? She couldn’t think of a single time.

  Will sighed loudly.

  “I need to take care of Johnston, then I’ll see if I can find you something.” She might have some gum in her purse.

  “He stinks.”

  “He does.” She was not looking forward to the contents of that diaper.

  Both Bens folded their arms across their chests while Marc talked to them. Alexandra and Andrea had deci
ded to skip their way around the room, much to the dismay of Audrey. One of the twins accidentally kicked over Tex’s pile of books and stopped, thumb in her mouth, to survey the wreckage.

  “Say you’re sorry and pick up the books…um, Andrea?” Charley called. It was a guess. She couldn’t read the nametag from here.

  “That’s Alexandra,” Audrey pronounced, landing with a two-footed hop at Charley’s other side.

  “Thank you. Alexandra, please say sorry and pick up the books.” The twin looked at her and then bent down to do as she’d been told. Charley breathed a sigh of relief. One thing had gone right.

  “That kid smells,” Audrey said. “Are you going to change him?”

  “Yes, I am.” Hopefully, she wouldn’t pass out from it, leaving America to wonder why she had such a weak stomach and Marc had to handle all of these kids on his own. “Do you think you could get that diaper bag for me?” She pointed.

  Audrey shrugged and went to retrieve it.

  Charley’s eyes sought Marc’s again. There was still time for a reprieve. But he had separated the Bens and moved on to talking with Julio.

  Meanwhile, the other twin had skipped by to knock over the books Alexandra had carefully piled back up while Tex watched, wordless. On the next skip by, Tex stuck out his leg, sending Andrea toppling to the rug.

  The kid had silent game.

  Andrea hoisted herself up and kicked over a second stack of books. Marc left Julio to rush over.

  Audrey set the diaper bag on the floor. “He’s going to get diaper rash if you don’t change him.”

  There was nothing to do but be brave and go in. She wished the school had provided scrubs and a mask. She looked at Johnston. How could one child give off such a foul odor?

  She laid him on the wood teacher’s desk, which had a clear spot in its middle. Will and Audrey followed her, watching. Charley wasn’t looking forward to a critique from Audrey, who knew all about diaper rash, something Charley hadn’t even thought of. On the other hand…

  “Do you know how to change a diaper?” she asked the girl.

  “Who doesn’t?”

  Charley could name one person.

  Will sided with Charley. “I don’t.”

  Charley reached into the bag and pulled out a disposable diaper, examining the front and the back.

  “You have to take off the old one first.” Audrey had a distinct don’t-you-know-anything tone to her voice. Not helpful.

  Gingerly, Charley pulled the tabs back on Johnston’s diaper and pulled down the front. Her nostrils recoiled at the sight and smell of the brown contents, mashed across the child’s skin. “Oh God.”

  “My mom says not to say that,” Will contributed.

  Judgment everywhere she turned. “Sorry,” Charley mumbled while holding her breath. She wondered which child she could send over to the roll of paper towels she spied on a counter across the room.

  Audrey reached into the bag and pulled out a container of wipes. “My mom uses these on our baby.”

  “Thanks.” Charley began to let the air out of her mouth, in short breaths, keeping her nostrils out of it altogether. She pulled out a wipe, held the child’s feet up and got to work. It took six of them to clean everything, including the folds of baby skin. Johnston watched her suspiciously, apparently clued in to her amateur status.

  She’d just scooted the dirty diaper out from under him and slid the clean one, which Audrey had helpfully spread open for her, under him, when urine shot up at her in a free-flowing yellow arc. “Aaack!” She tried to duck, but there wasn’t much she could do and still hold on to Johnston’s feet.

  When he’d finished, the front of her top had a large, warm wet spot on it. Charley didn’t look at the camera crew, but from the corner of her eye, she could see shoulders shaking and hear the silent laughter.

  Audrey sniffed. “Our baby doesn’t do that.”

  “Is your baby a girl?”

  A grave nod.

  Get used to it, Audrey. Boys do all kinds of things girls don’t. “Could you get me another diaper?” Johnston had managed to hit the fresh diaper and the teacher’s desk, as well. At least he finally looked happy.

  Audrey fetched the new diaper and then left to find the twins. Will looked over the collateral damage and also walked away. Charley sighed. Deserted by her troops.

  Marc appeared at her side to give a low whistle. “He got you good.”

  “It’s okay,” she lied. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “I believe that.” He reached for the soiled diapers. “I’ll get rid of these.”

  “Thanks.”

  Possibly hearing the relief in her voice that she would not have to touch the used diapers again, he gave her a broad wink. Then he lowered his voice and said in her ear, “Even soaked in pee, you’re sexy.”

  The tension that had built up in her released. “I might love you for that,” came out in one breath. She snapped her mouth shut as soon as she heard the words. She’d meant it as a joke, but wasn’t sure Marc would take it that way. All he did, though, was laugh and gather up the diapers.

  A few minutes later, she had Johnston in a fresh diaper and his pants back on. She set him on the floor, where he happily toddled off, and wondered if she also had pee in her hair. Was this what mothers did all day long? She shuddered.

  The camera crew had moved to focusing on Marc, who had managed to talk most of the kids into sitting in a circle on the reading rug Tex had retreated to. Even Julio was there, though he still had his eyes fixed on his computer game.

  Someone came up behind Charley to begin wiping off the teacher’s desk with the paper towels. She turned. Luke. Silently, he offered her a clean, damp rag and, with a sympathetic look, motioned that she could use it on her top. “Thank you,” she mouthed. She pulled the fabric out away from her skin and began scrubbing.

  When she had done as much as she could, Luke took the rag from her and gave her hand a light squeeze. “You did good,” he said in a low whisper.

  The door creaked open and Rose the parent volunteer entered the room, bearing a tray of milk cartons and cookies. Charley’s body sagged in relief. A grown-up.

  The children abandoned Marc immediately, flocking to the door in a jumble of arms, legs, and excited voices. Rose carried the tray to one of the desks. “Everyone sit down now,” she instructed, “and be sure to take a napkin and a straw.”

  They did.

  Half of Rose’s hair had slipped from its knot and she had a smudge on her cheek, making Charley wonder what was going on in other babysitting rooms. “It looks as though all is going well,” Rose said to Charley and Marc.

  They looked at each other. “Sure,” Charley said.

  “Absolutely,” Marc added.

  As the children dove into the cookies, happiness spread across the faces of the littler ones as quickly as the chocolate did. The older kids proved to be more serious about the snack, chewing with intent.

  Charley washed her hands at a small sink in the corner of the room, dried them off, and then followed Rose’s lead for the younger kids by opening up the mini milk cartons and inserting a straw in each. Marc chose a cookie and winked at Charley as he took a bite.

  She straightened her shoulders and told herself she could do this. Even if there might be, and probably was, pee in her hair. She made her way to Marc’s circle of kids and separated the Bens, who were giving each other punches in the arm, by sitting between them, cross-legged.

  To her surprise, Johnston sauntered over to plop down in her lap, thumb stuck in his mouth and his eyes on Marc, who was reading a book. She brushed the soft blond hair at the top of Johnston’s head with her fingers. Surviving a diaper change at her hands must have translated to a grudging sense of trust from the two-year-old.

  She smiled down at him, feeling a bit guilty that she’d just decided she didn’t want to be a parent. She was pretty sure she couldn’t make it through that many wardrobe changes.

  On the van ride back to the ho
use, Charley sat next to Luke. Marc tossed her a puzzled look when he saw her heading toward the back, but didn’t ask anything. He just sat next to their cameraman, Pete, and started a conversation.

  Once their driver had started the van, darkness within the vehicle gave Charley the chance to brave a look at Luke. “If you want me to move, I will.”

  He continued to look out the window. “I’m fine with where you are.”

  “I smell like pee. And oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. Not a great combination, so I would understand.”

  He chuckled. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but now that you mention it…”

  “Thanks for that.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “You could have said you didn’t smell anything but flowers and sunshine.”

  “Does that sound like something I would say?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Because it’s actually closer to strawberries, lemons, sun beating down on the ocean, and what the taste of something sweet and salty does to your tongue.”

  She stared at him, open-mouthed.

  He turned to look at her and then quickly looked away, back to staring out the window.

  “That’s what I smell like?”

  “Pretty much.”

  They rode in silence for a few miles while Charley processed. Something primal stirred. She shifted in her seat, wondering if anyone else could tell.

  Around them, others were talking, snoozing, or like Luke, gazing out the window, lost in their own thoughts. No one was looking at her.

  Charley let her gaze rest on Marc, and studied the back of his head. He said something that made Pete the cameraman laugh.

  Marc was supportive and easy to be around, simultaneously unflappable and ready for anything. She liked the competitive streak she’d seen in him, especially because, when the competition was over, he was over it. He’d minded losing the hunt challenge to Brittany and Michael for about five minutes and then he’d moved on.

  He’d probably be a great husband and dad. If you were into that kind of thing, which the babysitting session might have cured her of for forever.

  But when he’d taken her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly after tonight’s challenge had ended and they’d returned the right kids to the right parents, she’d felt pleasantly contented, like she did after watching a good movie. She’d been tempted to give him a thumbs-up and say, “Nice job. Good lip action. See you later.”