Suddenly a Father. Michelle Major
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her. “We’ll work on that after dinner.”
“Mommy didn’t let me have gum.” Brooke stuck her fingers in her mouth, sucking hard.
“I bet you miss her very much,” Millie said softly, bending to Brooke’s level.
Brooke went totally still, but swiped the hand that wasn’t occupied across her eyes.
Jake cleared his throat. “Millie’s going to unpack now, Brooke. Would you help me order the pizza?”
She didn’t move. Although it had happened only a couple of times since he’d picked her up from Stacy’s parents, it scared the pants off Jake when she got like this. He knew what it was like to be paralyzed with emotion. “If you come with me, we’ll get cinnamon sticks for dessert.”
The promise of sugar broke the spell. She nodded and wiped her fingers on the front of her purple cotton dress. Without a word, she lifted her still-glistening hand to him. He swallowed and took it, once again dumbfounded that she trusted him so completely.
Millie stared at him, her hands clutched to her chest.
“We have a lot to talk about,” he told her.
“Yes,” she whispered, her lips barely moving.
“Pizza first,” Brooke yelled, then repeated in a lower tone, “Pizza first.”
“Pizza first,” he agreed and led his daughter out of the room.
* * *
While Jake tucked Brooke in for bed later that night, Millie found a bottle of wine pushed to the back of the refrigerator and poured a tall glass. She wasn’t a big drinker by nature but definitely needed some liquid fortification before talking to Jake Travers alone.
She took out a second glass as he came into the kitchen.
“I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself,” she said, turning to him.
“Knock yourself out,” he answered.
If only it were that easy.
“Would you like a glass?”
He shook his head. “I take one pain pill a day when Brooke goes to bed. It doesn’t mix well with alcohol.”
“How much pain are you in?”
“It’s not that bad,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “It gets worse when I’m on my feet a lot or don’t take time to rest.”
“Which you don’t, being a full-time father.”
Stretching the splinted arm out in front of him, Jake curled his fingers a few times. “I have an appointment with the doctor tomorrow morning then physical therapy. I’ve had to cancel my last two appointments because Brooke wouldn’t stay with anyone and I didn’t want to take her with me.”
“She’s really bonded to you.”
He looked at her now. The intensity in his gaze almost knocked her over. “It blows me away. I have no idea what I’m doing, and she doesn’t care one bit.”
“You’re trying,” Millie answered. “That counts for a lot.”
His eyes narrowed, studying her. Millie realized she was doing exactly what her mother had always done. Smoothing things over, trying to make the man in front of her feel better even though she barely understood his situation. One of Millie’s biggest weaknesses, inherited directly from her mother, was her habit of caring too quickly. She led with her emotions, and her first inclination was always to view people through rose-colored glasses.
For all she knew, Brooke would be better off with her grandparents. But Millie understood what it was like to have a father who only dropped in occasionally, always bearing toys or some other bribe for affection. Gifts couldn’t make up for the long absences, to a little girl feeling alone and deserted by someone she wanted so desperately to love her.
Brooke had already lost one parent. Millie had to help Jake see that he could be a father, that an imperfect parent who was a solid part of his daughter’s life was better than a fly-by-night dad.
She picked up the pad of paper and pen she’d found in one of the drawers and stepped forward to the kitchen table. “Let’s make a list of what needs to be done, the schedule for you and Brooke, and where I fit into everything.”
His blue eyes darkened and Millie suddenly had a clear picture of where she’d like to fit—pressed up against Jake’s lean frame. He was more than a foot taller than she, so she could imagine how safe she’d feel tucked along his side. She didn’t want to have this awareness of him—it felt new and unsettling, especially in the quiet of the evening. When Brooke was around, she was the focus of both their attention. Now Millie couldn’t help but notice every detail about Jake, from the fullness of his mouth to the broad stretch of his shoulders underneath his faded T-shirt.
She also saw the tiny lines of exhaustion bracketing the edges of his eyes. That evidence of his fatigue brought her back to the present. She wasn’t here because of her undeniable attraction to him as a man. Of course she had a reaction to him. Like Natalie said, all three of the Travers brothers were drop-dead gorgeous. Millie knew Olivia’s husband, Logan, and had met the middle brother, Josh, on her first visit to Crimson. But there was something about Jake that drew her to him in a way she’d never experienced before.
More than anything that reaffirmed her commitment to keeping their relationship strictly professional.
“Money,” she blurted.
He paused before lowering himself into the chair across from her. “Cutting right to the chase? I like it. We haven’t discussed your salary.”
“We should... I know you’ll pay me...and I want to help you... I probably should have asked yesterday but...”
“One thousand.”
“One thousand what?”
“Dollars. The majority of my rehabilitation will take place in the first month and a half, according to the doctors. By then, I’ll know if the nerve damage has healed enough for me to do surgery again. Brooke’s grandparents are coming out in two weeks, but I still want you full-time through the duration of my stay in Crimson.”
“One thousand dollars for six weeks of work?” Millie hadn’t made much working in preschools over the past couple of years, but her ability to live on a tight budget only went so far.
One side of his mouth quirked. “I’ll pay you one thousand dollars a week for six weeks. You’re staying at the house, so it’s like you’re on twenty-four-hour call. You’ll have no rent, and I’ll buy all the groceries.”
She felt her eyes widen. “I can’t accept so much money.”
“I don’t think that’s the right response,” he said with a laugh. “And I can’t cook. I buy the groceries, but you’re in charge of meals.” He patted his flat stomach. “I can’t handle another night of take-out pizza.”
“You’re a terrible negotiator,” Millie said. “No one starts with their best offer.”
His smile widened. “How do you know that’s my best offer?”
“Are you some sort of secret billionaire who can throw money around like it’s nothing?”
“I have plenty of savings and a great disability policy.” He leaned forward, the tips of his fingers brushing the back of her hand. “I believe you get what you pay for, and you’re worth what I’m offering.”
He was touching one tiny patch of her skin, but she felt the reverberation of it through her entire body. Before tonight, no one had ever thought she was worth much. She’d taken jobs in preschools and day-care centers because she liked being around kids. It had taken her years to believe she might actually have some talent for teaching. But when she’d tried to make a career of that, she’d made a mess