Romancing The Nanny. Cindy Kirk
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him forget his own.
Amy wasn’t going to leave, he told himself. He paid her well and she loved taking care of Emma. As far as that guy Steven was concerned, if he was truly interested in Amy he wouldn’t be talking about recipes with her.
Reassured by his logic, Dan opened the paper and turned to the financial section. He’d barely started reading when he heard footsteps.
Amy pushed the screen door open with her shoulder. “Thought you might like a snack.”
Dan jumped to his feet and took the tray from her. The faint scent of lilacs teased his nostrils. It was an old-fashioned scent but one that suited her. He glanced down.
A thin slice of lemon topped each glass of lemonade and the assorted cookies perfectly arranged on the decorative plate looked like they could have come from a gourmet bakery.
“These look fabulous,” he said.
Amy blushed a becoming shade of pink and took a seat in a wicker chair.
Dan placed the tray on the tiny table in between the two chairs, handed her a glass and took the other for himself.
Though he still wasn’t particularly thirsty, she’d gone to a lot of work and Dan wasn’t about to disappoint her. He lifted a glass to his lips and took a long sip. “Perfect.”
Satisfaction filled Amy’s gaze. “It’s always better when the lemons are freshly squeezed.”
“You squeezed these?”
She laughed—a pleasant laugh that reminded Dan of the tinkle of bells. “With my own two hands.”
Dan didn’t need to ask if she’d made the cookies. They were too perfect not to be hers.
“Snickerdoodle.” He filched one from the center of the plate. “My favorite.”
“I think I knew that,” Amy said with a teasing smile.
Dan returned her smile and decided he’d been foolish to worry. Amy was happy in his household. She wasn’t going anywhere.
She glanced at the paper. “Are you looking at the classifieds?”
Dan handed her the section and returned his attention to the stock quotes. They drank lemonade, ate cookies and read in comfortable silence. Dan never felt pressured to make small talk with Amy. If there was something to discuss, it was brought up. Otherwise, it was okay to just relax.
Dan wasn’t sure when he first became aware that Amy was doing more than just reading the Want ads. Maybe it was when he noticed the pen. Every so often she’d make a quick mark on the page.
What was she doing?
He could ask but he already felt like he’d gone over the line at dinner and didn’t want to overstep again. Amy was a private person and Dan had always subscribed to the notion that if she wanted him to know something, she’d tell him.
“Jake and I stopped for a drink after work.” Dan hoped if he started talking, so would she. “You’ll never guess who I saw.”
Amy lowered the paper to her lap. “Who?”
“Bree Northcott.” Dan wasn’t sure why he’d brought the woman up, other than she’d been one of the few women he’d dated Amy had seemed to genuinely like. “She was the blonde who—”
“I remember Bree,” Amy said. “And Kellycat and Todd.”
Dan paused. “Who?”
Amy giggled. “Her cats. A Scottish Fold and an Abyssinian.”
The words meant nothing to him. He only remembered one was furry and the other short-haired.
“Those Scottish Folds are so beautiful.” An almost dreamy lilt filled Amy’s voice and her lips curved upward. “But so hard to find.”
“I don’t know anything about cats.”
Amy’s smile vanished. “That’s because you don’t like them.”
“You’re right,” Dan admitted. When he’d been small, his neighbor’s Siamese had gone ballistic when he’d tried to pick it up. Ever since that day, Dan had given all felines a wide berth. “I don’t like them. And I’d certainly never want one, let alone two, in my house. Thankfully Tess and I agreed on that.”
Amy’s expression didn’t waver but her gaze shifted back to the paper.
He had the feeling he’d missed something. A sudden thought struck him.
“Emma hasn’t mentioned wanting a kitten, has she?” Though Dan would give his daughter the sun and moon if he could, he drew the line at a cat.
“Not to me.” Amy’s gaze remained fixed on the paper.
Dan heaved a sigh of relief. “Good.”
“She’d never ask because she knows how you feel about them,” Amy added.
Though she’d made the comment matter-of-factly, Dan could have sworn he heard an underlying hint of reproach. He frowned. “Are you saying Emma is afraid to talk to me?”
“Not afraid,” Amy said. “But—”
A loud boom of thunder split the air and Amy jumped. The newspaper on her lap went flying and the napkins on the tray flew off in a gust of wind.
Dan met Amy’s gaze and the concern in her eyes mirrored his own. “Emma.”
His daughter was deathly afraid of storms and the thunder had been loud enough to wake the dead, let alone a light sleeper.
“You go,” Amy said. “I’ll stay and pick up.”
The wind began to blow in earnest, ruffling the newspapers he held in his hands and threatening to topple the empty lemonade glasses.
“No,” Dan said. “She’ll want you, not me.”
Though it pained him to say so, in this instance it was the truth. During thunderstorms, it was always Amy who Emma clung to, not him.
Amy nodded and touched his arm. “Thanks.”
Another loud clap of thunder rent the air and Amy hurried off before he could ask why she was thanking him. After the door slammed shut, a few drops of rain plopped on the sidewalk and Dan didn’t have time to think. He’d lived in the Midwest long enough to know he needed to hurry. He rounded up the paper, grabbed the plate of cookies and empty glasses and headed inside.
He’d barely made it through the door when the rain began in earnest, the wind spraying droplets of water across the floor of the porch.
By the time Dan reached the kitchen, sheets of rain pelted the windows. He placed the cookies and glasses on the counter and dropped the wad of papers onto the table. The classifieds that Amy had been reading somehow ended up on top.
Though Dan told himself it was none of his business, he found his gaze drawn to the circled items.
An icy chill traveled up his spine. Real estate in the suburbs? The price range seemed a little out of her league, but it might be manageable, depending on the size of the down payment or if there were two incomes.
Steven.
Had she lied when she’d said the two of them were just friends? In his heart he didn’t think so. But she’d mentioned more than once how much she longed for a house of her own.
His fingers tightened around the paper. He couldn’t imagine this home without Amy. If she left, Emma would be devastated. But Amy wouldn’t leave, he reminded himself, because he was committed to doing whatever it took to make her stay. He’d learned long ago that most things could be had, for a price. He just had to find out what it would take to keep Amy in his household.
Amy leaned back in the rocker and sighed with contentment. Though she knew many would say Emma