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Aubrey didn’t know how to respond. The concept was so foreign to her. Her own mother hadn’t breast-fed, saying it wasn’t seemly to be seen with two babies hanging off her chest as if she was some kind of baboon in the jungle. Annabelle mistook Aubrey’s silence for reproach and stiffened. “It’s perfectly natural. Back in the medieval days, royalty often used a wet nurse. It’s healthier than formula and helps with their immune system.”
Aubrey wasn’t judging, though it was certainly a shock. Aubrey tried to imagine what her mother would have to say about that and nearly giggled at how appalled Barbie would be. Her twin sister, Arianna, would likely mirror that horror. They’d both arch perfectly waxed eyebrows in distaste and remark on how white trash it all was. “I think it’s beautiful that you loved your friend so much you would do that for her son,” Aubrey said.
Annabelle’s eyes watered for a brief moment. “Thank you. I just want the best for him. She wanted a baby so badly. When she got pregnant we cried together. I think she told me before she told Sammy. It was the happiest moment of her life.”
“How’d Samuel react to the news?” Aubrey inquired, not quite comfortable using her employer’s more familiar nickname.
“He was happy but I think he would’ve given Dana the moon if she asked for it even if he preferred sunlight. Dana was the one who really wanted to start a family right away and it took a while to get pregnant. Dana called Ian her miracle baby.”
Aubrey’s eyes threatened to water, wishing there’d been such a miracle in her own life. Don’t go there. She forced a bright smile. “It was nice to meet you. I suppose I’ll see you two a lot while I’m Ian’s nanny. I hope to become good friends.”
And then, before either could say anything further, she left the shop.
It wasn’t until she was halfway to her rented house that she realized she’d forgotten all about the quilting fabric she’d wanted to check out. She sighed heavily and put it out of her head. She needed to get ready for her first day of work.
SAMMY SLAPPED A LITTLE aftershave on his cheeks and winced when tiny nicks from the quick shave job screamed at the alcohol splash. He sucked in a breath and then grinned in the mirror, his best roguish charmer that usually worked pretty well on the ladies, and then, remembering that his jeans were still in the dryer, he stepped out of his bedroom to find Aubrey in the hallway. She seemed frozen to the spot, a look of chagrin and embarrassment on her face.
She turned quickly and stammered an apology. “The door was open…. I didn’t realize…I thought you said to be here…Oh, I’m a few minutes early, though, not because I’m one of those people who are ridiculously punctual, well, actually, I am one of those people because I hate to be late—”
“It’s okay,” he said gruffly to her rambling. If he hadn’t been embarrassed himself, he might’ve found the humor in the situation, but at the moment he wasn’t feeling anything but intense mortification at being caught with nothing but a towel around his ass on his nanny’s first day on the job. Nice going. If she didn’t quit right then and there it’d be a miracle. He wrapped the towel a bit tighter to ensure there weren’t any wardrobe malfunctions and said to her back, “Kid’s asleep in his swing. Why don’t you go wait in there while I get dressed.” She bobbed her head in agreement before skittering away.
He detoured to the dryer and jerked the jeans up over his hips quickly. When he was decent, he sent a prayer to heaven that she was still willing to take the job and tried that charming smile on again to up the odds of her staying.
She rose from the sofa where she’d been fidgeting with the strap of her purse when he entered the living room. He waved away her attempts to apologize again. “It’s my fault. I’m not quite used to having someone else in the house and I forgot to grab my clothes before I hit the shower,” he said, cringing at the red blush staining her cheeks. “It’s okay. Really. No big deal. No harm no foul as they say.”
“I’m assuming there will be no more of these types of incidents while I’m in your employ?” she said, her tone implying that perhaps he’d engineered the whole situation.
“Of course not,” he said, slightly insulted that the sight of his toweled body had offended her so much. There was no reason to make a federal case out of it. “It was an accident. The last thing I need is my kid’s nanny to be thinking about me naked,” he muttered.
“Not a problem,” she retorted, a bit sharply. “I’ve already put the incident out of my mind.”
If it weren’t for the high color in her cheeks he might’ve believed her. But she was holding to it so that was fine with him. He wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t want the nanny to think of him in any way that wasn’t completely professional.
“Good. Now that that’s settled…” He rubbed his hands together, ready to move on. He had a date with a longneck bottle, which would hopefully end with a date with a redhead or a blonde…whichever was ready and available. “So, I probably won’t be home until late…well, depending on how well things go tonight…”
“How late?” she asked, her brow furrowing a little.
“Uh, well, not sure. Is that a problem? I thought I told you that you might need to be available for overnighters.”
“Yes. You did mention the possibility but I didn’t realize it would start with my first day. I didn’t bring the proper supplies.”
He frowned. That certainly put a crimp in his plans. Suddenly he felt as if he had a curfew. He glanced around and his gaze alighted on the kid’s car seat in the corner where Annabelle had left it the last time she’d dropped him off. “Here…how about this…if it gets too late you can just take the kid to your place and I’ll pick him up later.”
Problem solved. Except the disapproving stare coming from his new nanny told him what she thought of that idea. “Oh, never mind. I’ll be home before eleven. That work for you?” he bit out, hating that he was giving in. He could tell right now this arrangement wasn’t going to work out. He didn’t care if his mom picked her out or not. She didn’t have to deal with her.
“Thank you,” she said, her eyes registering cool victory. “I appreciate your consideration. I don’t know the roads around here quite yet and don’t feel comfortable driving too late at night.”
Yeah, yeah…he wanted to grumble but he didn’t. He was just itching to get out of there. He was headed out of town tonight and now his prowl-time just got cut in half. Not even he could close the deal with this short of a window. But he could try. “You have my cell. If there’s an emergency…just leave me a voice mail I guess and then call Annabelle. She’s real good with stuff like that. She’s my brother’s wife.”
“I’ve met Annabelle,” she interjected.
“Oh? When?” he asked, to be polite. He couldn’t really care less and time was ticking. He pocketed his wallet in his back pocket and grabbed his keys.
“Well, don’t you remember, she was the one who dropped off Ian yesterday. We met officially this morning in the quilting shop. She was telling me how Ian rolled off the sofa yesterday,” she said, although her tone was professional, he sensed her disapproval and he stiffened.
“He was fine,” he said.
“Yes, Annabelle told me. I’m glad. Falls can be very serious for a baby Ian’s age.”
Sammy shifted, annoyed at her prim censure. “Yeah, well, he’s fine,” he said, moving to the door. “Later.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Halvorsen.”
He stopped. “Call me Sammy,” he said but she shook her head.
“I’d prefer not. You’re my employer.”
“Oh. Yeah, okay. I guess you’re right. But it’s just that when you call me Mr. Halvorsen I feel like I should be looking for my dad or something. Plus, it makes me feel old.”
She smiled at that but held firm. He felt a scowl coming on but really what did he care what she called him? If she wanted to be all stiff and proper who was he to say she couldn’t be? He shrugged. “Suit yourself. Good night, Ms. Rose.”
AUBREY WATCHED AS SAMMY WALKED out the door, her temper building as she replayed the last five minutes of their conversation through her head. What a self-absorbed jerk. She tried to be understanding because he was a widower and all but he had some nerve to try and come on to her like that. Who wandered around their house in just a towel? Especially when their nanny was supposed to arrive within minutes? And then to try and make her feel as if she was overreacting to his display? Her fists clenched as another wave of anger rolled over her. How did she get herself into this one?
Egad. The ego on that guy. Unfortunately, he probably had plenty of women who were happy to feed that monstrous ego. If she were the brainless type, she could totally see how the man likely charmed his way into countless beds. A smile here, a little flattery, and boom, panties dropped. Her lip curled in open disgust. It was likely he had good qualities somewhere deep—very deep—down, but at the moment, Aubrey couldn’t imagine what they could be.
Well, if she were held under a hot bulb in a torture chamber with someone threatening to pull her fingernails off she might be forced to admit that he had one helluva physique. He looked damn near carved from stone, like the marble statues at Versailles, except he didn’t sport a Roman nose nor was he missing a limb. She inhaled sharply at the traitorous musings and shut them down immediately. Jerk. He hadn’t even said goodbye to his baby. What kind of father was he?
A terrible one.
She felt a twinge for judging him so quickly, but really, he hadn’t made much of a case for himself with that attitude of his. And what kind of person tells a virtual stranger that she can just pack up his child like luggage and take the baby home because it inconveniences his party time? Argggh! She cored an apple with particular vehemence and nearly sliced through to her hand. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. No point in getting so worked up over one silly, self-absorbed idiot who didn’t know how lucky he was.
She looked sorrowfully at the sleeping boy and her heart melted a bit more for the sad circumstances then she went to prepare some food for the little guy. She’d brought her food processor so she could make homemade baby food. He was old enough to start with a few solids but she wanted to start slow so that she didn’t inadvertently spark a food allergy in the boy.
Without Sammy in the way, bothering her with his smarmy smiles and perfect body, she started to feel more at ease. The house was small and rustic but there was a coziness to it that appealed to her. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. Her mother had ridiculously bourgeois taste that ran toward the faux gold furnishings and lavish tapestries that carpeted the cavernous hallways of the homes she decorated and Aubrey had always found them embarrassingly ostentatious. Yep, Sammy’s house was so far from anything Aubrey had ever called home that it was immediately wonderful in Aubrey’s opinion.
Humming a wordless tune, she went to work mashing some bananas she’d brought with her and set to boiling water for the apples. Nikki and Violet had loved her homemade applesauce. She frowned slightly as the thought of them still hit a sore spot and started coring more apples. Apparently eight months wasn’t enough time to lessen the pain of not having them in her life but she’d loved them so deeply. Her gaze drifted to Ian, who was starting to awaken and sighed heavily. She couldn’t let her heart get attached to this one. One corner of her mouth twisted ruefully. At least she didn’t have to worry about falling for her employer with this job. Sammy Halvorsen was the last person she’d ever be attracted to.
Thank goodness for small favors.
CHAPTER THREE
SAMMY WAS SHIT-FACED. The woman who was propping him up giggled as he tried to fit his key into the lock and she had to help guide it in.
He made a sexually suggestive comment that made her giggle again and they both fell into the door, slamming it open against the wall.
“Oops.” The woman laughed as they stumbled inside, making a racket loud enough to wake the dead. He pressed against her, slanting his mouth over hers, eager to get the party started. Sammy remembered he already had company just as Aubrey came around the corner with a disgusted expression on her face.
His date quickly sobered and looked askance at Aubrey, who appeared the part of a very annoyed housemate, which if Sammy hadn’t been two sheets to the wind, he might’ve realized wasn’t funny at all. But as it was, the pinched look on her face was quite comical. “Who is that?” the woman—Sharlene? Sherry? Crap, he couldn’t remember—didn’t sound amused, either. She turned to him as he used the wall to steady himself. “I thought you said you weren’t married,” she said with a definite edge to her voice.
“I’m not.” He pushed off from the wall and walked unsteadily toward Aubrey, who looked ready to kick him in the shins with her tiny feet. Boy, she was petite. So different from Dana. Dana had been tall and beautiful, his Amazon wife, he used to tease. Frowning, he gestured toward Aubrey as he walked past her toward the kitchen. “She’s my nanny. Want a beer?” he asked.
“Mr. Halvorsen…a moment, please,” came Aubrey’s firm request as she turned on her heel and marched from the living room. Judging by the way she didn’t wait to see if he would comply, she clearly expected him to follow.
Sammy sighed and gestured to the blonde to make herself comfortable while he took care of the situation at hand. He found Aubrey in his bedroom, which suddenly made him intensely uncomfortable. Aubrey in his bedroom was…not right. At all.
As if reading his mind, she peered up at him, tightlipped and angry. “It’s a small house, Mr. Halvorsen. I did not feel it prudent to air my concerns in front of your friend, and I’m not about to wake Ian up by taking this conversation into his room, though by the way you crashed about like a drunken ox it’s a wonder the baby didn’t wake up screaming,” she muttered with a glare.
“We weren’t that loud,” he said defensively, though he knew that she was probably right. Damn. This nanny rode him harder than his ma, which was probably why Mary Halvorsen hand-selected her.
“You’re drunk,” she accused, clearly unamused.
“Of course I am,” he said, smiling lopsidedly at her. “That’s the whole point, ain’t it? Have fun, cut up, cut loose—”
“Bring home floozies with your infant son sleeping in the other room,” she interrupted and he jerked.
“That’s a shitty thing to say.”
“Yes. And equally bad because it’s true, isn’t it?” she queried him, crossing her arms. “Mr. Halvorsen…if this is your type of behavior, the kind of thing I can come to expect from you…”
“Will you stop with the Mister already? I told you—”
“And I told you no. The problem I see with you, Mr. Halvorsen, is that you’re not accustomed to responsibility. I am your son’s nanny. Not yours. You’ve put me in a pickle, Mr. Halvorsen.”
His alcohol-soaked brain zeroed in on the word pickle and he chuckled. Who talked like that? It was cute in an annoyingly stuck-up way. If he were attracted to the librarian type, which he wasn’t, he might be seriously turned on by her prim and proper routine. But as evidenced by the bleached blonde getting bored and sober in his living room…nope, it wasn’t the brainy types that turned his head. Although…
She snapped two fingers in front of his face, and he refocused on her. “As I was saying, you’ve put me in a bad spot. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you with Ian in your condition or with the company you’ve chosen to bring home with you—” she might as well have said vermin the way she phrased it “—but I don’t feel it’s appropriate for me to take Ian out of bed at this late hour and take him home with me. So you leave me no choice but to insist that you send that woman home and put yourself to bed.”
He balked. “That wouldn’t be right. I invited her to stay.”
She gave him a steely glare. “Nothing about this situation is right by my estimation. Send her home or I quit.”
He cocked a rogue grin her way, oddly charmed by the show of spirit flashing in her eyes. Funny, he hadn’t noticed how cute she was. He moved closer and she took a healthy step back. He frowned, stung by her obvious rejection. Now that was different. “So quit,” he said with a shrug, anger at being rejected coupled with the tequila shots he’d downed earlier combining to make his mouth say really bad things. “It’s not like it takes a bunch of skill to watch a kid. I can find another nanny…one who’s not so uptight and bitchy.”
Her gaze turned wintry and she pushed past him. “Good luck with that, you arrogant jerk,” she muttered, moving by him so quickly he stumbled on unsteady feet. “You don’t deserve that beautiful boy. It’s probably a good thing your wife is dead. If she could see how you’re treating the child she died to give life…” She shook her head in disgust as she added, “So pathetic.”
And then stomped out the door.
ANGER VIBRATED HER ENTIRE BODY as she got to her car, intent on leaving as quickly as she could, but somehow Sammy managed to get those wobbly drunken muscles to work and he was running after her.
“Wait!” he called out. She tried to ignore him but there was a thread of desperation weaving its way through his tone that made her pause, if only momentarily. He reached the car and skidded to a stop. “I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have said that…I’ve had too much to drink and my mouth got away from me.”
“And?”
“And it was completely out of line for me to bring someone home with you still at the house. I wasn’t thinking,” he admitted, dropping his stare to the ground as if ashamed. She wasn’t sure if it was an act or not. She didn’t know him well enough to tell but she was suspicious on principle simply by his behavior so far.
She wanted him to admit that it was also bad judgment on his part to bring strangers into the house with an infant but she sensed she wouldn’t get that from him. Not yet, anyway.
“Fine,” she said tersely. “But your friend needs to leave. Now.”
“She’s not a bad gal,” he started to say but she cut him off with a glare. “Right. Gimme a minute.”
Aubrey moved past him, accidentally brushing him with her shoulder. The warmth of his skin through his shirt reminded her that it’d been a long time since she’d enjoyed the comfort of a man’s arms. Thankfully, there were no sparks that ignited at the incidental touch. She shuddered at the thought. She didn’t pause to offer any words of explanation to the woman sitting forlornly on the sofa and went to check on Ian while Sammy sent her on her way.
Treading softly into Ian’s room, her anger melted at the sight of the sleeping boy, so sweet in repose that her heart ached. Why did she have such a tender spot for children? Her life would’ve been so much easier if she’d been built more like her mother and sister. Arianna, although her twin, couldn’t be more her opposite. The idea of caring for a child, even her own, didn’t appeal in the least. It was a wonder Barbie had agreed to conceive. Aubrey could only imagine her mother’s dismay when she’d learned she was carrying not one, but two babies. She sighed softly and smoothed a lock of dark hair from the boy’s soft baby brow. If she were given the gift of motherhood…she’d never squander it.
IT WAS LONG AFTER HE’D regretfully sent Sherry on her way with an effusive promise to call her tomorrow and Aubrey had fallen asleep in his recliner in the living room that Sammy sank into a dark place that was often his resting stop after a long night. Usually he woke with a busty woman at his side and he had to sneak from her house before she woke. He rarely brought his dates home; the thought of letting another woman into his own bed made him shudder with shame. Yet tonight he’d been ready to screw that blonde in the bed he’d shared with Dana. Aubrey had hit the nail on the head when she’d called him pathetic.
He supposed he should thank his nosy and intrusive nanny for keeping him from making yet another huge mistake, but it rankled him that he gave in so easily. She treated him like he was lower than dirt—the looks she gave him could wither a flower on the vine—and yet, she seemed protective of Ian in a way that baffled him. She didn’t know the kid, not really. He was the kid’s father and he couldn’t muster up the appropriate feelings. Scrubbing his hands down his face as if he could wipe away all the guilt that weighed him down, he fell back on his bed, not caring that he was still dressed, nor that he was still wearing his boots. Honestly, what was there to care about any longer?
Dana…why’d you leave me? I’m so lost….
That mournful feeling followed him into sleep, filling the landscape of his dreams with sadness and pain, a vision of Dana dying on that table, giving her last breath as Ian gasped his first.
A tear leaked down Sammy’s face and stained his pillow.
“Dana…”
CHAPTER FOUR
SAMMY SHOWED UP ON THE JOB SITE surly and nursing an aching head, and certainly in no mood to deal with either of his older brothers when Dean barked at him.
“You’re late,” he said.
“Glad to see you can tell time,” Sammy grumbled as he buckled his tool belt into place. “I overslept.”
Both his brothers exchanged a knowing look and Sammy wanted to put his fist through both of their mugs. “How’s the new nanny working out?” Josh asked.
“Fine.” If you don’t mind the idea of being mothered by a woman who made you feel ten inches tall one minute and oddly turned on in the next. Yeah…it’s great. “She’s good with the kid,” he admitted, hefting a large cement bag onto his shoulder with a grunt. “That’s all that matters, right?”
He considered the strange twist of being attracted to her. Frankly, he was hot for anything in a skirt these days but his tastes were pretty predictable. In the old days, before Dana, the thrill of the chase was what got his motor running. Then he met Dana and everything he ever thought he knew about women went right down the toilet. Dana had been cool and distant at first but once he cracked that nut…she’d been fiery and passionate, a woman who could match his appetite bite for bite. An ache so sharp it made him suck in a wild breath almost caused him to drop his load but he recovered before either of his keen-eyed brothers—who continually regarded him like he was on a suicide watch or something—could catch it.
“You gonna stand there gawking at me like a bunch of girls or get to work?” he asked, annoyed when neither seemed inclined to return to their tasks. He dropped the cement bag and went to get another one. “You’re giving me the willies staring at me like that.”
It was Josh who spoke first. “We’re worried about you,” he said matter-of-factly.
“You’re screwing up. And the way you treat Ian…” At Sammy’s scowl, Dean paused but then revved up again. “Annabelle is upset and if Annabelle’s upset then you’d better believe that I’m going to get involved.”
“Butt out,” Sammy warned, trying to walk away, but Dean grabbed him by the shirt and jerked him around to face him. Sammy eyed his brother and practically dared him to push the issue. “Watch it, Dean. The days where you can grab me like a snot-nosed kid are over. I’ll lay you out if you grab me again.”
Dean grinned. “Go ahead and try, Sammy. Might be the best thing for you to get your stupid head knocked around.”
Josh intervened. “Knock if off, both of you. Ma sees either of you with black eyes she’s going to give us all matching ones. Listen, Sam, we’re your brothers…we just don’t want to see you make a mistake you can’t take back.”
Sammy shrugged off Dean’s grip and bent down to grab another cement bag. He hefted it with a grunt. “Don’t worry about me. You’ve got your own lives to worry about. Wives…babies…surely that’s enough to keep you out of my business.”
“It would be if you’d stop tomcatting around every honky-tonk bar from here to Coldwater. What’s gotten into you?” Dean asked, the disgust in his tone mirroring what Sammy had heard in Aubrey’s voice last night.