Читать книгу The Nanny Bombshell - Michelle Celmer, Michelle Celmer - Страница 9

Coop stood outside Sierra’s bedroom door, hoping she hadn’t already gone to sleep for the night. It was barely nine-thirty, but today had been her first official day watching the girls, so he was guessing that she was probably pretty exhausted. God knows they wore him out.

She had signed the contract the afternoon of her second interview, then spent most of the next day moving her things and unpacking. He had offered to pay a service to do the moving for her, but she had insisted she had it covered, showing up in the early afternoon with a slew of boxes and two youngish male friends—orderlies from the hospital, she’d told him—who had been openly thrilled to meet the great Coop Landon.

Though Coop had tried to pay them for the help, they refused to take any cash. Instead he offered them each a beer, and while Sierra unpacked and the twins napped, he and the guys sat out on the rooftop patio. They asked him about his career and the upcoming season draft picks, leaving a couple of hours later with autographed pucks.

Coop had hoped to be around today to help Sierra and the twins make the transition, but he’d been trapped in meetings with the marketing team for his new sports equipment line all morning, and in the afternoon he’d met with the owner of his former team. If things went as planned, Coop would own the team before the start of the next season in October. Owning the New York Scorpions had been his dream since he started playing for the team. For twenty-two years, until his bad knee took him off the ice, he lived and breathed hockey. He loved everything about the game. Buying a team was the natural next step, and he had the players’ blessing.

After the meetings Coop had enjoyed his first dinner out with friends in weeks. Well, he hadn’t actually enjoyed it. Though he had been counting the days until he was free again, throughout the entire meal his mind kept wandering back to Fern and Ivy and how they were doing with Sierra. Should he have canceled his meetings and spent that first day with them? Was it irresponsible of him to have left them with a stranger? Not that he didn’t trust Sierra—he just wanted to be sure that he was doing the right thing. They had already lost their parents—he didn’t want them to think that he was abandoning them, too.

When the rest of the party had moved on to a local bar for after-dinner drinks, dancing and skirt chasing, to the surprise of his friends, Coop had called it a night. On a typical evening he closed out the bar, moved on to a party and usually didn’t go home alone. But the ribbing he endured from his buddies was mild. Hell, it had been less than a month since he lost his brother. It was going to take him a little time to get back into his normal routine. And right now the twins needed him. He would try to work from home the rest of the week, so he could spend more time with them. After more than two weeks of being together almost constantly, he had gotten used to having them around.

He rapped lightly on Sierra’s bedroom door, and after several seconds it opened a crack and she peeked out. He could see that she had already changed into her pajamas—a short, pink, babydoll-style nightgown. His eyes automatically drifted lower, to her bare legs. They weren’t particularly long, or slender, so the impulse to touch her, to slide his palm up the inside of one creamy thigh and under the hem of her gown—and the resulting pull of lust it created—caught him completely off guard. He had to make an effort to keep his gaze above her neck and on her eyes, which were dark and inquisitive, with that exotic tilt. Her hair, which he’d only ever seen up in a ponytail, hung in a long, silky black sheet over her shoulders, and he itched to run his fingers through it. Instead he shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

You can look, but you can’t touch, he reminded himself, and not for the first time since she’d come by to meet the girls. She was absolutely nothing like the sort of woman he would typically be attracted to. Maybe that alone was what he found so appealing. She was different. A novelty. But her position as the twins’ nanny was just too crucial to put in jeopardy.

Maybe hiring such an attractive woman had been a bad idea, even if she was the most qualified. Maybe he should have held out and interviewed a few more people, made an effort to find someone older or, better yet, a guy.

“Did you want something?” she asked, and he realized that he was just standing there staring at her.

Way to make yourself look like an idiot, Coop. He was usually pretty smooth when it came to women. He had no idea why he was acting like such a dope.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” he said.

“No, I was still up.”

“I just wanted to check in, see how it went today.”

“It went really well. It’ll take some time to get into a routine, but I’m following their lead.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help out.”

She looked confused. “I didn’t expect you to help.”

He felt his eyes drifting lower, to the cleavage at the neckline of her gown. She wasn’t large-busted, but she wasn’t what he would consider small, either. She was … average. So why couldn’t he seem to look away?

She noticed him noticing but made no move to cover herself. And why should she? It was her room. He was the intruder.

And he was making a complete ass of himself.

“Was there anything else?” she asked.

He forced his gaze back to her face. “I thought we could just talk for a while. We haven’t had a chance to go over the girls’ schedules. I thought you might have questions.”

She looked hesitant, and he thought her answer was going to be no. And could he blame her? He was behaving like a first-rate pervert. But after several seconds, she said, “Okay, I’ll be out in just a minute.”

She snapped the door closed and he walked to the kitchen, mentally knocking himself in the head. What the hell was wrong with him? He was acting as if he’d never seen an attractive woman before. One of his dining companions that evening had worn a form-fitting dress that was shorter and lower cut than Sierra’s nightgown and he hadn’t felt even a twinge of interest. He needed to quit eyeballing her, or she was going to think he was some sort of deviant. The last thing he wanted was for her to be uncomfortable in his home.

Coop opened the wine refrigerator and fished out an open bottle of pinot grigio. Unlike his teammates, he preferred a quality wine to beer or liquor. He’d never been one to enjoy getting drunk. Not since his wild days anyway, when he’d taken pretty much anything that gave him a buzz because at the time it meant taking his pain away.

He took two glasses from the cupboard and set them on the island countertop. Sierra walked in as he was pouring. She had changed into a pair of black leggings and an oversize, faded yellow T-shirt. He found his gaze drawn to her legs again. He typically dated women who were supermodel skinny—and a few of those women had actually been supermodels—but not necessarily because that was what he preferred. That just seemed to be the type of woman who gravitated toward him. He liked that Sierra had some meat on her bones. She was not heavy by any stretch of the imagination. She just looked … healthy. Although he was sure that most women would take that as an insult.

He quickly reminded himself that it didn’t matter what she looked like because she was off-limits.

“Have a seat,” he said, and she slid onto one of the bar stools across the island from him. He corked the wine and slid one of the glasses toward her. “I hope you like white.”

“Oh … um …” She hesitated, a frown causing an adorable little wrinkle between her brows. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

He put the bottle back in the fridge. Maybe she thought he was trying to get her drunk so he could take advantage of her. “One glass,” he said. “Unless you don’t drink.”

“No, I do. I’m just not sure if it’s a good idea.”

“Are you underage?”

She flashed him a cute smile. “You know I’m not. I’m just worried that one of the girls might wake up. In fact, I’d say it’s a strong possibility, so I need to stay sharp.”

“You think one little glass of wine will impair you?” He folded his arms. “You must be quite the lightweight.”

Her chin lifted a notch. “I can hold my own. I just don’t want to make a bad impression.”

“If you drank an entire bottle, that might worry me, but one glass? Do you think I would offer if I thought it was a bad idea?”

“I guess not.”

“Let’s put it this way: If the twins were your daughters, and you wanted to wind down after a busy day, would you feel comfortable allowing yourself a glass of wine?”

“Yes.”

He slid the wine closer. “So, stop worrying about what I think, and enjoy.” She took it.

“A toast, to your first day,” he said, clinking his glass against hers.

She sipped, nodded and said, “Nice. I wouldn’t have imagined you as the wine-drinking type.”

“I’m sure there are a lot of things about me that would surprise you.” He rested his hip against the edge of the countertop. “But tell me about you.”

“I thought we were going to talk about the girls.”

“We will, but I’d like to know a little bit about you first.”

She sipped again, then set her glass down. “You read my file.”

“Yeah, but that was just the basics. I’d like to know more about you as a person. Like, what made you get into nursing?”

“My mom, actually.”

“She was a nurse?

“No, she was a homemaker. She got breast cancer when I was a kid. The nurses were so wonderful to her and to me and my dad and sister. Especially when she was in hospice. I decided then, that’s what I wanted to do.”

“She passed away?”

Sierra nodded. “When I was fourteen.”

“That’s a tough age for a girl to lose her mother.”

“It was harder for my sister, I think. She was only ten.”

He circled the counter and sat on the stool beside hers. “Is there a good age to lose a parent? I was twelve when my mom and dad died. It was really rough.”

“My sister used to be this sweet, happy-go-lucky kid, but after she got really moody and brooding.”

“I was angry,” he said. “I went from being a pretty decent kid to the class bully.”

“It’s not uncommon, in that situation, for a boy to pick on someone smaller and weaker. It probably gave you a feeling of power in an otherwise powerless situation.”

“Except I went after kids who were bigger than me. Because I was so big for my age, that usually meant I was fighting boys who were older than me. And I got the snot kicked out of me a couple of times, but usually I won. And you’re right, it did make me feel powerful. I felt like it was the only thing I had any control over.”

“My sister never picked on anyone, but she was into drugs for a while. Thankfully she cleaned herself up, but when my dad got sick she just couldn’t handle it. When she turned eighteen she took off for L.A. She’s an actress, or trying to be. She’s done a couple of commercials and a few walk-on parts. Mostly she’s a waitress.”

“What is it that your dad has?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t being too nosy.

“He’s in the final stages of Alzheimer’s.”

“How old is he?”

“Fifty.”

Damn. “That’s really young for Alzheimer’s, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “It’s rare, but it happens. He started getting symptoms when he was forty-six, and the disease progressed much faster than it would in someone older. They tried every drug out there to slow the progression, but nothing seemed to work. It’s not likely he’ll live out the year.”

“I’m so sorry.”

She shrugged, eyes lowered, running her thumb around the rim of her glass. “The truth is, he died months ago, at least in all the ways that matter. He’s just a shell. A functioning body. I know he hates living this way.”

She looked so sad. He wanted to hug her, or rub her shoulder, or do something to comfort her, but it didn’t seem appropriate to be touching her. So his only choice was to comfort her with words and shared experiences. Because when it came to losing a parent, he knew just how deeply painful and traumatic it could be.

“When my parents got in the car accident, my dad died instantly. My mom survived the crash, but she was in a coma and brain-dead. My brother, Ash, was eighteen, and he had to make the decision to take her off life support.”

“What a horrible thing for him to have to go through. No one should have to make that decision. Not at any age.”

“I was too young to really grasp what was happening. I thought he did it because he was mad at her or didn’t love her. Only when I got older did I understand that there was no hope.”

“I signed a Do Not Resuscitate order for my dad. It was so hard, but I know it’s what he wants. Working in the NICU, I’ve seen parents have to make impossible choices. It was heartbreaking. You have to hold it together at work, be strong for the parents, but I can’t tell you how many times I went home and cried my eyes out. Parents of healthy kids just don’t realize how lucky they are.”

“I can understand how you would burn out in a job like that.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I really love nursing. I liked that I was helping people. But it can be emotionally draining.”

“Do you think you’ll miss it?”

She smiled. “With the twins to take care of, I doubt I’ll have time.”

He hoped she wouldn’t eventually burn out, the way she had with nursing. Maybe giving her so little time off had been a bad idea. He knew firsthand how tough it was caring for the twins nonstop. A few hours off on a Sunday and one weekend a month weren’t much time. Maybe he should have considered hiring two nannies, one for during the week, and one for the weekends. “You’re sure it’s not going to be too much?”

“Watching the twins?”

“By taking this job, you’re pretty much giving up your social life.”

“I gave that up when my dad got too sick to care for himself. He couldn’t be alone, so we had a caregiver while I worked, then I took over when I got home.”

“Every day? That sounds expensive.”

She nodded. “It was. We blew through his savings in just a few months. But I didn’t want him to have to go in a nursing home. I kept him with me as long as I could. But eventually it got to the point where I just couldn’t provide the best care for him.”

“When did you go out? Have fun?”

“I’ve always been more of a homebody.”

“What about dating?”

The sudden tuck between her brows said her love life was a touchy subject. And really it was none of his business. Or maybe she thought it was some sort of cheesy pickup line.

“You can tell me to mind my own business,” he said.

“It’s okay. Things are just a little complicated right now. I’m not in a good place emotionally to be getting into a relationship.” She glanced over at him. “That’s probably tough for someone like you to understand.”

“Someone so morally vacant?”

Her eyes widened. “No, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay,” he said with a laugh. “A few weeks ago, I probably wouldn’t have understood.”

Dating and being out with other people had been such an intrinsic part of who he was, he probably wouldn’t have been able to grasp the concept of leading a quiet, domesticated life. Since the crash that had taken his brother, his attitude and his perception about what was really important had been altered. Like tonight for instance. Why go out barhopping to meet a woman for what would ultimately be a meaningless and quite frankly unsatisfying encounter when the twins needed him at home?

“Priorities change,” he said.

She nodded. “Yes they do. You see things a certain way, then suddenly it’s not about what you want anymore.”

He wondered if she was talking about her dad. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“You really love them,” she said.

“The twins?” he found himself grinning. “Yeah, I do. What’s not to love? This was obviously not a part of my plans, but I want to do right by them. I owe Ash that much. He sacrificed a lot to raise me. He worked two jobs and put college off for years to be there for me, and believe me, I was a handful. Some people thought that because the twins aren’t Ash’s biological kids it somehow absolved me of all responsibility. Even their birth mother seemed to think so.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her lawyer contacted my lawyer. Apparently she saw on the news that Ash and Susan had died and she wanted the girls back. I can only assume that she thought I would be a failure as a dad.”

“And you didn’t consider it?”

“Not for a second. And even if I didn’t think I could handle taking care of the girls myself, why would I give them to someone who didn’t want them to begin with?”

That tuck was back between her brows. “Maybe she wanted them but just couldn’t keep them. Maybe she thought giving them up was the best thing for the twins.”

“And that changed in five months? She thinks she can give the girls more than I can? With me they’ll never want for a thing. They’ll have the best of everything. Clothes, education, you name it. Could she do that?”

“So you assume that because she isn’t rich she wouldn’t be a good parent?” she asked in a sharp tone.

For someone who didn’t even know the birth mother she was acting awfully defensive. “The truth is, I don’t know why she gave them up, but it doesn’t matter. My brother adopted the twins and loved them like his own flesh and blood. He wanted the girls raised by me, and I’m honoring his wishes.”

Her expression softened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. In my line of work, I’ve seen young mothers harshly misjudged. It’s a natural instinct to defend them.”