Falling For The Nanny: The Billionaire's Baby SOS / The Nanny Bombshell / The Nanny Who Kissed Her Boss. SUSAN MEIER
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funny. I chose funny.”
“Okay…” She bit her lip. “It’s just that—” She stopped again.
“What?”
“When we met you never laughed. You smiled a bit, but sort of craftily like you were trying to figure me out. Then you started ‘kind of’ laughing. But not really laughing, more like chuckling. You just really laughed. A genuine laugh. As if you’re happy.”
He headed for the door. “I’m not happy.” He stopped, raked his fingers through his hair, as that damned confusion overwhelmed him again. Technically, he was happy. He liked who he was and what he did. “That’s not to say I’m unhappy. Things are working out with Bella.” He stopped again. What the hell was going on with him? Why did he feel he had to explain himself to her? He strode to the door. “Could we please drop it?”
She raced after him. “Why? I think it’s cute. You like Bella. Or maybe you like the idea of being a dad.” She smiled dreamily. “It’s cute.”
He walked out of the office and toward the kitchen. “It’s not cute. I’m confused.” Realizing he was talking to her again, admitting things he shouldn’t, he stopped abruptly and she almost plowed into his back. “Could we just forget it?”
“Okay. Sure. I’m certainly not trying to talk about personal things. But I think Bella makes you happy. That’s all I want to say. You don’t have to answer, explain or refute it. It’s just an observation.”
But as they worked together seasoning the roast, peeling potatoes, preparing vegetables to make a salad when the roast was done, she continued to wear that ridiculously dreamy smile. A smile that said she was thrilled all this was working out for Bella.
Bella sat in her high chair, cheerfully banging a rattle on the tray. Claire chopped veggies, dreamily thinking thoughts Matt was absolutely positive he didn’t want to know. And he organized everything, getting rid of his pent-up energy and doing what needed to be done. Like the man of the house.
Damn. There he went again. Thinking about things, his life, in ways that were foreign. He wasn’t a family man. He didn’t want a family.
But he had one.
And he had to admit that with Bella settling in and him growing accustomed to her he did feel…happy.
All these years he’d thought his successes and toys made had him happy. But the new feeling bubbling through him told him they only made him feel successful.
Claire or Bella or maybe Claire and Bella made him happy.
And it scared the snot out of him.
The buzzer for the gate rang and he walked to the intercom. The screen above the row of buttons showed a truck with the Hansen’s Department Store logo on the door.
“Yes.”
“I have a delivery for Matt Patterson.”
“Gate is opening. Come to the front entrance.”
Without looking at Claire, he said, “I’ll take care of this,” and left the room.
After lighting the burner under the potatoes to cook them for mashed potatoes, Claire fell to the chair near the high chair. “Your daddy is the first person I’ve ever met who didn’t want to be happy.”
Bella gurgled.
“You’re right. Let’s hope he gets accustomed to it.” She ruffled Bella’s soft tuft of hair. “What am I thinking? You’ll get him accustomed to it.”
She would. Because Bella had the rest of her life to worm her way into his heart.
Which was a very good reminder to Claire. With everything Matt did, she liked him more. Try as he might to be grouchy and sullen, he was growing accustomed to Bella and enjoying being a dad. And that was very attractive. But, though he’d accommodated a baby in his life, this wasn’t a guy who would fall head over heels in love with a woman. She’d be lucky if he remembered her name after she left. She wasn’t here to make him happy, worm her way into his heart or fall in love. She was here for the baby. And she’d do well to remember that.
Claire stayed in the kitchen with Bella and finished the mashed potatoes. When the delivery man left, she unwrapped the additional toys that had arrived that afternoon. She showed Matt how to dump the colored rings from the cone onto the floor and help Bella rearrange them on the cone again. With all the playing, Bella grew tired more quickly than usual and Claire and Matt just barely got her bathed before she fell asleep at seven.
They walked into the kitchen silently. Both of them probably as tired as Bella, and both of them lost in thought.
Matt went directly to the oven. “With her going to bed this early, is she going to sleep tonight?”
Claire shrugged. “Hard to say. But when a baby is falling asleep on your arm, you can’t really keep her awake.”
He set the roast on the stove. The delicious aroma floated over to Claire and her stomach growled. She set the table as he carved the roast. She got the salad from the refrigerator and put the mashed potatoes into the microwave for a quick reheat.
They sat down to eat as silent as they’d been while putting together their meal.
After a minute of quiet, Matt rose. He pressed a few buttons on the panel containing the intercom and video feed from the gate, and soft music filled the kitchen.
“No reason for us to be completely uncivilized,” he said as he returned to his seat.
“Right.” She sucked in a breath. Obviously, the quiet in the room got to him, too. But they’d made a promise not to talk about personal things, and neither one of them wanted to risk it. Of course, his job was probably a safe subject.
“Do you do a lot of traveling for your business?”
“Only because I want to. If you’re worried about me leaving Bella, I can arrange my schedule so I don’t have to.” He smiled. “People will come to me.”
She nodded, but the urge to tease him rose up in her, so strong and so natural, it nearly stole her breath. Since that kiss, they’d focused on Bella. Hadn’t teased. Hadn’t meandered into personal territory. And that had worked out very well. No yelling. No hurt feelings. She would not overstep those boundaries.
“Good point.”
“So what about you? Have they done okay without you at Dysart Adoptions this week?”
“Easily. Joni and I are basically the only two caseworkers, but with our receptionist we’re enough. We go through a lot of slow seasons. We’re in one now.”
“Me, too.” He dug into his mashed potatoes. “I love what I do, though.”
“What exactly do you do?”
“Buy and sell things. Stocks. Companies.”
Comfortable with their safe topic, they talked about his business dealings through the remainder of dinner. She learned he’d gotten his nickname “Iceman” because he could be totally heartless about firing upper management.
Which made her laugh. “Seriously. Who gets all upset about a guy being asked to leave a big corporation when he goes with a golden parachute?”
“You’re forgetting who gave me the nickname…Other CEOs. The very people I fire.” He frowned. “And we forgot dessert.” He glanced over at her. “We don’t have dessert.”
“You have pudding cups.”
“That’s right! I do.”
He walked to the refrigerator, pulled out two pudding cups and ambled back. “Vanilla or chocolate?”
“Chocolate.”
“Great. Vanilla’s actually my favorite.”
He handed