Nanny for the Millionaire's Twins. SUSAN MEIER
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Mom said she had the refrigerator stocked with supplies, including milk. Use that since mine’s been sitting in this diaper bag for hours.”
With that he turned and walked away, and Tory let out the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. He might be good-looking but he was crabby. Even if she wasn’t engaged, she shouldn’t be interested—attracted, whatever the devil she was—to him.
She quickly prepared the cereal. By the time she carried it into the nursery, Chance and his mom were on the rocking chairs, each holding a baby. She put the two small bowls on the round table between the rockers and stepped back. Chance fed little bruiser Sam and Gwen fed Cindy.
With nothing else to do, she stood by the door and watched them. Though the babies were twins and looked a bit alike, they weren’t identical. Aside from their disparate size, they had different hair. Sam’s was short and fine, but Cindy’s was thick and longer. Yellow curls fell to her forehead and along her nape.
When they were done, Chance rose from his rocker. “I think we should put them down for a nap. They’ve eaten and now they’ll be tired.”
“So it’s not their regularly scheduled nap time?” Gwen asked.
He snorted a laugh. “Scheduled nap time? I don’t tell them when to sleep or eat. They tell me.”
Remembering the trouble she’d had her first summer with the Perkins family, wealthy lawyers with kids who ran roughshod over them, Tory couldn’t stifle the, “Oh, dear” that escaped her lips.
She instantly regretted it. Chance’s pretty blue eyes narrowed at her and his mouth thinned into an angry line.
He patted Sam’s back a bit, then laid the drowsy child in the crib. Following Chance’s lead, Gwen did the same with Cindy. The babies fell asleep instantly and Chance headed for the door, his mom on his heels.
Tory followed them out of the nursery, wanting to kick herself. The guy already didn’t like her and she didn’t exactly like him. Did she have to make things worse with her big mouth?
When they reentered the main room, Gwen turned to Chance. “Since the babies are sleeping, there’s no point in us hanging around. Plus, you and I could use a little catch up time.” She smiled at him. “Why don’t you drive us back to the house and we’ll go to the den where there’s good brandy? We can have Cook make us a snack.”
Chance pulled his keys from his jeans pocket again. He caught Tory’s gaze. “Watch the kids.”
She nodded, as relief washed over her. Hopefully, he and his mom would chitchat long enough that she could figure out a way to quit gracefully since their mothers were friends. He didn’t want her and she didn’t want to work for him. This wasn’t rocket science. But she also wouldn’t put her mom or Gwen in an uncomfortable position over a failed nanny assignment.
After they left, Tory relaxed and roamed the cottage. She’d been so preoccupied with Chance and the cereal, that she hadn’t really taken a good look at the house. The three bedrooms were in the back, but the living space had an open floor plan. Standing in the yellow kitchen with maple cabinets, beige ceramic tile floor and brown and beige granite countertops, she could see the entire family room and the mini-library/reading area behind it. A table and chairs sat off to the left of the kitchen in a little space that looked like a sunroom because of all the windows.
It was the perfect home for a young family—or newlyweds. She ran her hand along the granite countertop. She should be married right now. Living in a cute little house like this. Raising her own babies. But one day … one hour … No, one minute had changed everything. Instead of being married, being a mom, or having a career, she spent hours on end in a hospital room, talking to a fiancé who couldn’t talk back.
She wasn’t even really sure he could hear her.
Forcing herself out of her dark mood, she walked to the sitting area with the oversize leather sofa and recliners and big-screen TV, and turned in a circle. For a “cottage” this was unbelievable.
“So now you’re dancing?”
She spun to face Chance as he walked in the front door. “I was just exploring a bit.” Pressing her hand to her galloping heart, she tried to level her breathing. “I thought you were visiting with your mom.”
“I’m not leaving my babies indefinitely with a stranger.”
“I’m not a stranger. Our mothers are friends. Plus, I’ve been living with your mom, working with the household staff for a week.”
“And one would think you would have learned your place.”
She sucked in a breath. Oh, boy. The moment of truth. She might not have to figure out how to quit gracefully. He might fire her before she could.
He motioned for her to sit on the sofa. “You and I need to talk.”
Resigned, she walked over and sat on the couch as he’d requested.
He plopped down on one of the recliners. “You crossed a line when you questioned me about the kids’ nap time.”
She winced. “Technically, I didn’t question you. I said, ‘oh, dear.’”
“Which is worse. You might as well have come right out and said, ‘Hey, Chance. You’re doing everything wrong.’”
“Sorry.”
“These are my kids. I’ve spent two weeks with them all by myself. And though I’m not perfect, I don’t want to be constantly reminded that I don’t always know what I’m doing.”
Her head snapped up. He didn’t know what he was doing? He had twins and he didn’t know what he was doing?
“I didn’t hire a nanny because I want my kids to be raised by me. But I’m willing to give you a shot because quite honestly I could use some help. Plus, I’m not staying here forever. Only for a visit.”
Only for a visit? Her attention perked up even more. If he wasn’t staying forever, only for a visit, then this job was temporary. She wasn’t making a life decision or a life choice or even abandoning Jason. She was working temporarily.
Giddy relief swamped her.
“But I have to tell you, if you’re going to criticize me, we can end this right now.”
With her situation in perspective, she studied him as all the puzzle pieces of his situation began to fall into place in her head. Gwen had told her that the twins’ mother had left his babies with him, saying she didn’t want them back—which explained his trust issues. He didn’t want a nanny. He wanted to raise these kids on his own. Admirable. But he didn’t know how. And because he was sort of failing he was supersensitive.
He wasn’t a grouch. Just a supersensitive daddy who needed somebody to help him.
Suddenly being that person didn’t seem so god-awful.
“Are we clear?”
Crystal. “Yes.”
“Great.” Even as he said the word, one of the babies began to cry. He rose from his seat.
Tory also rose. Okay. She might not be quitting. But the job was far from perfect. She still wasn’t sure she could advise him without insulting him.
Walking to the nursery he said, “Here’s the only reason I might not—and I stress might not—mind having you around. I can’t seem to get Sam and Cindy to sleep for more than twenty minutes, and when they get up they’re like little cats climbing all over me. I don’t get a minute’s peace.”
“You’ve been holding these kids for two weeks?”
“Sort of. Sometimes they play on the floor.”
“What about your job?”
“I own a construction company so I could pretty much do what I wanted for the first