Not Just the Nanny. Christie RidgwayЧитать онлайн книгу.
wrong with dingy gray?” Then he craned his neck to inspect the rest of the interior. “And new TVs? Were the other ones broken?”
Austin stared at him, his dark eyes perplexed. “Dude. Flat-screens. Each of ‘em as big as the back end of my grandma’s Buick. You’d rather watch the game on something smaller?”
Mick lifted his beer for a swallow. “I’d prefer things to stay just as they were,” he mumbled.
Owen’s brows rose. “Good God, Mick. You sound like a grumpy old man. Next you’ll be yelling at kids to get off your lawn.”
He felt like a grumpy old man. That was the problem. The store department he always averted his eyes from was now the new playground for his preteen daughter. His son was out of T-ball already. His nanny was a college graduate.
“The kids in my house are almost too old to play on the grass,” he said. “Lee and Jane and Kayla are growing up before my eyes. I’m almost afraid to blink.”
“Mick …” His friend and fellow firefighter Will Dailey wasn’t blinking. He was staring, just like Austin had a few moments before. “Kayla’s not a kid. You know that, right?”
“She’s a student,” he shot back. “That makes her a kid. Sort of.” It sounded stupid even to his ears, but he could only afford to think of the nanny in those terms.
“I thought you told us she graduated. From college. And she’s got to be in her mid-twenties.”
Mick waved a hand. “Still a girl.”
Austin grinned. “Looks like a woman to me. As a matter of fact—”
“She’s off-limits,” Mick ordered.
The other guys were staring again, so Mick jerked up his chin and focused on the television. “How about those Cowboys?”
“How about those cheerleaders?” Austin countered.
Which was exactly why Mick had warned the other man off. He was all about the superficial stuff, flashy boots, short skirts, and big … pom poms.
“You can’t keep them all under wraps forever,” Will said quietly from his seat in the booth beside Mick. “Believe me. I raised my five younger brothers and sisters and among the many things I learned, besides how to stretch a dollar until it squeals for mercy, was that they grow up and then itch to get out on their own.”
Mick groaned. “I don’t want to think about that.” It didn’t take a genius to figure out why. After losing his wife, Ellen, and the future he’d envisioned for them had been snatched away so cruelly, he couldn’t imagine how hard it would be for him to loosen his hold on his kids.
Will laughed a little. “Nature has a way of making that easier. It’s called ‘the teenage years.’”
“Yeah, I suppose.” Mick took another swallow of his beer. “Though I’ve already explained to Jane there will be no dating until she’s thirty-one.”
Will laughed again. “Good luck with that. But maybe all this would be a little easier if you considered finding a love interest yourself.”
“Not going to happen.” He couldn’t imagine it. Although life with Ellen had been good—despite the fact that they’d been so young he could hardly recognized the kid groom he’d been in the man he was now—he had no plans to add a permanent woman to his life. He barely managed his current situation. Single dad, fire captain and somehow a romantic relationship, too? Wasn’t going to happen.
He couldn’t take on the additional responsibility … he didn’t want the responsibility, even for the tempting trade-off of regular companionship in his bed.
Not to mention the difficulty of finding someone the rest of his household would get along with, too. “What kind of woman would Jane and Lee like? And Kayla? Who would she approve of?”
“Mick, Kayla’s the nanny. And she’s not going to be with you forever anyway, right?”
Wrong.
No, no, not wrong. Kayla gone was just something else he couldn’t picture in his head.
He had another image in there instead, one that had been impossible to banish, for the last six months. She’d been out for the evening and he’d just gotten Lee back to sleep after the third request for water when he’d heard a muffled thump coming from the porch. Without thinking, he’d yanked open the front door, only to find … to find …
It replayed in his mind. A young man, sporting a sandy crew cut, his hands cupped around Kayla’s face, his mouth descending toward her upturned lips. The moment had stretched out, it seemed, forever.
Mick had time to notice the bright glint of Kayla’s shiny blond hair in the lamplight, the dark sweep of her lashes against her cheek and then the stunning blue of her eyes as they lifted and she caught him witnessing her good-night moment.
They’d flared wide and her cheeks had flushed pink as she hastily stepped back from her date and away from the almost-kiss. “I…. um … uh …” she’d said, her gaze fixed on Mick’s.
Instead of smoothing the moment over and retreating, Mick, bad Mick, had merely held the door open so she could slip inside. He supposed he’d been frowning, because it was the proper expression for a man feeling decidedly hot under the collar.
Like an overprotective father might feel.
Or a jealous—no!
But damn, ever since that night he hadn’t been able to see her as “just” the nanny. Although she’d never been that, not with the way she’d taken to his children and they’d taken her into their hearts. But he hadn’t seen her as a woman, a kissable, desirable, damn beautiful woman until that awkward instant on the porch.
And he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it for one day since, even though he didn’t believe she’d seen that young man again, or any other in the six months that had passed.
She’s not going to be with you forever anyway, right? Now it was Will’s question on replay in his head. But damn it, she was with his family now, and he had a sudden compunction to return to his house, just to assure himself that she was still there and that everything else was also still the same.
Mick got to his feet and fished some bills from his pocket. Austin looked up. “Where you going?”
“I want to be home when Lee gets back from Scouts. I need to watch my daughter walk down the sidewalk.” I have to see that Kayla isn’t kissing some man.
He’d forgotten about her nanny friends, though. When he spotted their cars outside his house, he let himself into the kitchen through the back door and decided to make do with leftovers for dinner. The kids had already eaten and he’d run from the bar before the pizza they’d ordered with their beer had arrived.
Even with his head in the refrigerator, Mick could hear Kayla’s voice rise. “All right, fine. You win.”
Bemused by her beleaguered tone, he straightened. He strolled toward the doorway that led to the dining room and from there the living room, wondering if she needed him to distract her friends. It sounded as if they were on his pretty Kayla’s case about something.
No. Not his Kayla. Remember that. Not. His. Kayla.
She spoke again. “I said I’ll do it.”
“You agree?” It was her friend Betsy’s voice.
“That’s what I said,” she answered, sounding testy.
Poor girl. He took another step closer to the living room. He could picture Kayla’s flushed cheeks, her silky blond hair mussed by frustrated fingers. Her eyes, surrounded by her long, dark brown lashes, would stand out like blue jewels as she gazed on her friends.
“You’ll go on the date?”
Mick froze.