Читать книгу Nanny for the Millionaire's Twins - SUSAN MEIER, Susan Meier - Страница 9

REACHING IN TO lift Sam out of his crib, Chance stopped the anger rolling through him. He shouldn’t be surprised that Liliah hadn’t given him all the things the kids needed. But with a screaming baby on his shoulder and a woman who seemed to know what she was doing standing right behind him, this wasn’t the time to let his brain tumble to his anger with Liliah.

“So why do you think they woke up?”

Tory walked to Cindy’s crib. Chance’s sobbing little girl raised her arms, begging to be held. “Did they sleep on the drive here?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. So they probably just nodded off after you fed them because their tummies were full. They don’t need a nap.” She lifted Cindy out of her crib. “Hey, sweetie.”

Cindy’s sobbing subsided, and Chance watched as a look of wonder transformed Tory’s features. Her brown eyes lit with joy, and for the first time in weeks he felt himself begin to relax. Not only did she know what to do, but she truly seemed to love babies. Maybe a nanny wasn’t such a bad idea after all?

“So they want to play?”

She rubbed her cheek against Cindy’s. “Probably.”

But as soon as she said the word, she winced. “You know, with these two up, and us really not having a whole heck of a lot of toys or anything to entertain them, maybe we should take a drive into town and get some supplies.”

“Like that walker thing?”

“And a play yard and swings.”

New guilt welled up in him. He was such an idiot. Couldn’t he at least have thought of some of this stuff? Was he that dumb that he couldn’t draw some commonsense conclusions?

No. Actually, he wasn’t dumb as much as tired. So tired from being up most of the night every night for the past two weeks that he hadn’t been thinking straight.

“If we get them what they need and even a few toys, we’ll be able to tire them out, and they’ll actually sleep for longer stretches of time.” She smiled tentatively. “They’re old enough that we might even be able to train them to sleep through the night.”

He looked longingly at her. “Really?”

She laughed and the soft sound hit him right in the gut. He told himself that was only because he wanted to be able to laugh again too. But she was pretty. Maybe even prettier than the women he used to date because she didn’t seem to be wearing makeup. She didn’t need it.

“Yeah. So grab your wallet and I’ll get the diaper bag and we’ll make a quick run to the store.”

Thinking only of a full night’s sleep, Chance buckled the kids in their car seats and headed for the mall on the outskirts of town. When they arrived, he flicked the switch signaling a turn into the mall parking lot, but Tory tapped his forearm and pointed at the discount department store.

“Let’s go there. The quality is as good and you’ll spend less money.”

He did as she asked but as they got the kids out of the SUV, he sneaked a peek across the backseat at her. Usually, most of the women he met flirted outrageously with him and were impressed by his money. This one barely tolerated him and was now showing him how to save rather than spend?

Of course, she was an employee.

She wasn’t interested in him as a man, or potential date, just as a boss.

That gave him a tug of something he couldn’t quite identify. He suspected it was disappointment. But at this point he’d much rather have somebody good with the kids, than somebody to sleep with.

He almost laughed. Having two babies to care for certainly changed a man’s priorities.

Automatic doors welcomed them into the store. Tory instructed him to get a cart and put Sam in the baby seat. Then she got a cart and put Cindy in that baby seat. They strolled past the rows and rows of everything from clothes and underwear to home goods and gardening tools until they came to the baby section.

She stopped her cart. “The most important things today are two walkers, two baby swings, a stroller for twins and one really strong play yard.”

“Play yard?” She’d mentioned that before, but he didn’t know what it was.

“Back in the day, moms called them playpens. We’ve gotten more politically correct and call them play yards now. It’s a square thing like a box with mesh walls that you put the babies in so that they can play together but not crawl around and get into trouble.”

He said, “Ah,” and watched as she loaded a compact box into his cart. “I take it there’s going to be some assembly required.”

She winced. “Unfortunately. Maybe we can call Robert?” she said, referring to the groundskeeper.

He gaped at her. “I worked in construction for ten years before I started my own company, and even then I had to work with the crew sometimes.” For some unknown reason his chest puffed out with pride. “I think I can handle putting together a playpen.”

“Play yard,” she corrected, as she loaded another big box into his cart.

“Play yard.”

Unexpected happiness stole over him, loosened his tight chest, relaxed his stiff muscles. Not only would he get a reasonable night’s sleep tonight, but his kids would be well cared for.

Not that he was a bad dad. If effort alone counted, he was daddy of the year. But effort hadn’t counted. Otherwise, he’d have known about the walker, play yard and swing.

He paid for the purchases and loaded them into his SUV as Tory put first Cindy, then Sam, into their car seats. She explained more about the walker as they drove home. When they arrived, she had him assemble the swings as she popped two jars of baby food and fed the kids, using highchairs his mother had bought for the kitchen.

He had the swings together by the time she was done feeding and then cleaning up the kids, and they slid both inside. She wound what looked to be a music box for each one and voilà, suddenly both kids were swinging and happy.

“Wow. That is amazing.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t know about swings.”

He gaped at her. “Who was I going to ask? I’ve only been talking to my mom again for a week and when she found out I had kids she just wanted me to come home.”

“And she’d hired you a nanny.”

“And she’d hired a nanny.”

“So maybe your mom’s a lot smarter than you give her credit for?”

He laughed.

She smiled.

And the room got quiet. The only sound was the music coming from the boxes and the creak of the kids’ swings. The happiness and relief Chance had been feeling suddenly disappeared and were replaced by tightness and anticipation. He liked her.

He struggled with a sigh. Of course he liked her! She was helping him with his kids. And she was beautiful and he hadn’t been around a woman “that way” since Liliah—which, counting her pregnancy was fifteen months ago. Fifteen months without a date? Sheesh. Liliah had really done a number on him.

But because she had, he wasn’t interested in a relationship. If he was going to have a woman in his life, it would strictly be for fun. No more potential heartaches. No more bitter fights. Just … fun. And a smart man didn’t get involved with his nanny just for fun.

Especially not when he desperately needed her.

He moved his gaze away from hers and pointed at the swing. “So they’re good for what? Twenty minutes in this thing?”

“They can actually stay in longer. I’ve heard of moms letting their kids nap in there.”

“It’s like a miracle.”

“Well, spending hours in a swing can’t be good for a baby’s back. But once they’re out of the swing—” She bent and grabbed some plastic toys. “You put them in the play yard with a few of these and see what happens. Lots of times babies will entertain themselves if you let them.”

He took a breath, said the word that had been choking in his chest all afternoon. “Thanks.”

She glanced up at him with a smile. “You’re welcome.”

But her smile quickly faded. So did his. Those male feelings swept over him again. She was so pretty. And the babies were so quiet, he felt like himself again. A man. Not just a daddy. She was attracted to him. He knew she was attracted to him. Her face told the story. It would be perfectly natural to start flirting right now …

He stopped his thoughts. Stepped back.

He’d already thought all this out. He didn’t want a relationship. He absolutely wasn’t going let another woman get close enough to hurt him—or the twins. And if he had no intention of getting close, then the only thing flirting would lead to was a fling.

That was just wrong.

He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “Your supper never did come down from the main house.”

She took a pace back too. “I know.” She cleared her throat. “Think you’ll be okay while I go up and check on that?”

He nodded. “Yeah. We’re good. In fact, if you want to stay up there and eat, you go ahead.”

“Okay.” She pivoted and all but ran to the front door.

He scrubbed his hand down his face. If he really wanted to keep himself in line around the nanny, he didn’t need to formulate a plan for the place of women in his life. All he had to do was remember how badly his last relationship had turned out. The pain of realizing he’d been used. The pain of discovering Liliah wanted nothing to do with his babies. She had been a boatload of trouble and drama.

He frowned. Liliah had been a boatload of drama and trouble. And that was probably why Tory was so attractive to him. She was Liliah’s polar opposite. Nice, sweet and kind to his babies, Tory didn’t bring an ounce of drama to his life.

But, after Liliah, even if Tory were his soul mate, a relationship wasn’t worth risking his trouble-free, drama-free household. And being involved with the nanny would certainly bring drama.

He’d had his share of drama with Liliah.

He didn’t want any more. No matter what form it took.

The next morning, Tory carried both babies into the kitchen. She slid them into their highchairs and began mixing cereal. “So, I take it everybody slept well.”

Cindy giggled and Sam yelped.

“Hey, hey, Sammy! I get it. You’re hungry. And I’m hurrying. But there’s only one of me. So you have to be patient.”

She took the two bowls of cereal to the table, pulled out a chair and arranged it between both highchairs. “Okay. It’s just us now. So everybody has to be on best behavior.”

Sam squealed, slapping his hands on the highchair tray.

“Did you not hear the part about best behavior? Your dad is exhausted and we’re letting him sleep in.”

She spooned a helping of cereal into Sam’s mouth. He smacked his lips in innocent enjoyment.

She laughed, wanting to pinch his chubby little cheek. Instead, she fed Cindy a spoon of cereal. “But I’m also sort of trying to butter him up. We never talked about days off and we have to because—”

She paused, cleared her throat, not sure why she couldn’t quite bring herself to talk about Jason with two babies who probably wouldn’t understand a word she said.

Except that the situation with Jason was sad and they were happy. Sam was a chubby, giggly little guy and Cindy was petite, demure. Probably someday she’d be exactly like Gwen. It seemed wrong to tell them about something so tragic when they were so cheerful.

So she wouldn’t tell them, but she had to tell Chance. She had to ask for days off.

Chance stretched lazily when he woke. His back didn’t hurt. His head was clear. And his muscles felt great. He was almost energetic.

He bounced up in bed and his gaze flew to the clock. It was almost nine!

The kids!

Why weren’t they screaming?

He rolled to get out from under the thin sheet that covered him and saw the blue drapes on the big window.

Not his house. His mom’s guesthouse.

And he hadn’t gotten up with the kids in the middle of the night because they now had a nanny.

A godsend nanny.

Well, the woman who would be a godsend if she weren’t so damned good-looking.

He passed his hand down his face, reminded himself that Tory was a drama-free employee whom he wanted to keep and headed for the bathroom. He didn’t hear any crying and he also had a meeting that morning, so he stepped into the shower in his private bathroom and scrubbed himself off.

Alone.

No kids sitting in front of the glass shower door, in the little basket-like seats Liliah had dropped them off in, crying as he took one of the shortest showers in recorded history.

For this and this alone, he could keep his hormones under control around the nanny. Because the other thing he’d figured out—before he drifted off to sleep the night before—was that she wasn’t the problem. She hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, she’d more or less told him she wasn’t interested in him by her behavior at the discount department store. Which meant anything he’d taken to be attraction on her part, he’d misinterpreted.

So he was the one who had to get in line. And that should be a piece of cake. He’d been ignoring women for fifteen months now.

He dressed in trousers and a white shirt and tie and walked through the great room into the kitchen area. Tory had the babies in the two highchairs, and was alternating feeding them. Her auburn hair had been caught up in a long ponytail that made her look about twenty, but she wore baggy jeans and a blousy top that hid all of her curves.

Still, when he saw her, his stomach jumped. Nerve endings he didn’t even know he had bounced to attention.

She smiled at him. “Hey, good morning.” Her gaze tumbled from his head to his toes and her smile grew. “Well, look at you.”

His mouth went dry. He tried to say good morning, but when the words came out they were more like a jumble of mush.

“I have coffee.”

“Great.” He walked to the pot, scolding himself for being ridiculous. Yes, she was pretty. And, yes, it had been a long time since he’d really looked at a woman—and since one had looked at him. But she was dressed in clothes obviously not meant to attract him. So the once-over she’d given him was nothing more than a friendly acknowledgment that he looked better in a shirt and tie than blue jeans.

He had to stop reacting to her. He needed her.

As a nanny.

He found a mug, poured himself some coffee and took a swallow before he said, “Are you okay being alone with the kids this morning?”

She smiled at him. A big, beaming smile that made her brown eyes sparkle. “That’s sort of my job.”

His hormones jumped again. Every fiber of his being wanted to flirt with her. But, again, she might be friendly, but she wasn’t flirting. Any attraction he thought he saw was strictly in his head or maybe wishful thinking.

He sucked in a breath. “Great. Because I actually have a meeting with my brother.”

“Ah. That explains the tie.”

He flapped it away from his shirt, and let it fall down again. “Dead giveaway, huh?”

“Well, I didn’t think you’d need one to go to your mom’s for breakfast.”

He caught her gaze. “She doesn’t require a tie for breakfast, but she does for dinner.”

Tory winced. “Sounds fun.”

“It’s a pain in the butt. Just like this meeting with my brother is going to be.” He finished his coffee, walked back into his room and grabbed his suit jacket.

Striding through the great room to the front door, he said, “I don’t expect to be back for a few hours—probably two.”

“Okay.” She turned to Cindy and Sam. “Say goodbye to your daddy, kids.”

Both kids squawked happily.

He groaned in his head. She had him so tripped up that he’d forgotten to say goodbye to his own kids.

After a quick kiss to the top of each twin’s head, he left the cottage and jumped into his SUV, blowing his breath out on a long sigh. He told himself to think of Liliah, to remember relationships were always trouble. To remember he didn’t want to be hurt. To remember he didn’t want his kids to be hurt by another woman who abandoned them.

He started the SUV and headed up the lane to the street. Twenty minutes later, he stood outside the yellow brick Montgomery Development building. Quiet and dignified, it sat among buildings older and taller and yet it still somehow intimidated him. How could four measly stories project such an air of power?

He sucked in a breath. It was no wonder he was tired of drama. Not only had Liliah made him miserable, but with the exception of Gwen, his family life had been trouble too. He’d thought all that was over when his dad died, but his brother had relentlessly followed him for the past few years, trying to get him to come home. He’d always managed to give him the slip, until last week when he couldn’t take the babies and run.

So after Max called, he’d called their mom to talk things through with her, and he’d come home. Not to placate his brother and certainly not forever. He would always call Gwen Mom, and now that the truth was out about his dad, he would always have a relationship with her. But he wasn’t sure he wanted a relationship with the brother who’d kept their dad’s secret. And he had a feeling the only way to stay away from persistent Max would be to go back to Tennessee.

Blowing his breath out on a long sigh, he headed for the entryway. He would let his brother have his say, thank him for any offers he made and refuse them. He wouldn’t start trouble. He wouldn’t open old wounds. There didn’t need to be any arguments. He would calmly ask his brother to let him alone—for good this time—and be done with this.

He stepped through the glass double doors and stopped, totally surprised. Vaulted ceilings soared to the roof. Sunshine poured in through skylights and fed the potted trees that sat on each side of the two white sofas in the reception area. A polished yellow wood reception desk sat in the center of everything.

Wow. His mom had said Max had changed things, but he hadn’t expected that would mean even the building.

Dark brown travertine tile led him to the reception desk. The pretty twentysomething brunette greeted him with a smile. “Can I help you?”

“Yes. I have an appointment with Mr. Montgomery.”

She glanced down at a small computer screen. “Your name?”

“Chance.” He paused. “Montgomery.”

The young woman glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow. He scowled at her. If Max thought he would jump through hoops to get to see him, he was sadly mistaken.

“If it’s that much of a bother to see my big brother, even with an appointment, I’ll just go.”

The receptionist held up a hand to stop him. “No. No problem! I’m sorry. Just give me a second to announce you.” She pressed two buttons on her phone then turned away.

He heard the receptionist say his name, then give his description.

Then there was silence.

Annoyance flooded him. This was what he’d hated about being a Montgomery. The pretense. As if he were the king of England, Max screened his visitors.

The receptionist faced him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Montgomery. You may go up.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Obviously recognizing how insulted he was, the receptionist grimaced. “Take the third elevator in the back of that hall.” She pointed to the left. “By the time you get there, a security guard will be there to punch in the code.”

He ambled to the last elevator, the temptation to leave tickling his brain. He’d told Max he wanted no part of this pomp and circumstance, yet the first thing he did was run him through a lineup.

Before he knew it, he was at the elevator. The security guard said, “Good morning, Mr. Montgomery.” Punching a few numbers into a keypad, he opened the elevator, motioned Chance inside and stepped back as the doors closed.

The ride to the fourth floor took seconds. The elevator doors swooshed open. More potted trees accented a low, ultramodern green sofa and chair. A green print rug covered part of the yellow hardwood floor.

Sitting at the desk in front of a wall of windows, Max looked up and instantly rose.

When they were kids, everyone would comment on how cute it was that they both had dark hair and blue eyes, even though Chance had been adopted. Now, everyone knew why.

“Chance. Sorry about that mess up downstairs. I told them you were coming. I also told them to give you the code for the elevator.”

He flopped on the sofa before Max invited him to sit down. “Well, they didn’t.”

“And you’re mad.”

“No, actually, they made my case about why I don’t want to work here. Dad would be so proud.”

“Dad had nothing to do with just about everything that goes on here now. I changed how we do business with subcontractors and vendors. We don’t make backdoor deals with unions. We don’t cheat employees out of bonuses. And I won’t lock you out of a company that’s as much yours as mine.”

Chance said, “Humph. Mom said you were different.”

Max sat on the chair across from him. “Losing your wife, admitting you’re an alcoholic and going to AA will do that to you.”

Chance sat up. The alcoholic thing floored him, but Kate leaving shocked him so much he forgot he was angry. Though Max and Kate were older, the trio had been like the Three Musketeers before he ran away. Chance had loved Kate like a sister. “You and Kate split up?”

“For eight years. She kept my daughter, Trisha, from me. She just left and didn’t even tell me she was pregnant.”

“Holy cow.”

“It took a while, but we reconciled.”

“And the alcoholic thing? Was that because she left?”

Max shook his head. “I became an alcoholic after you left, Chance.”

He froze. “Me?”

“I loved you, kid. Still do. You’re my brother. I was sorry for everything that happened and I shouldered all the responsibility and the blame. And started drinking. But after Kate left, I realized drinking wasn’t helping and once I got sober, I saw how bad Dad really was. I learned every department, read every lease, talked to every contractor and vendor. And ultimately took over.”

Chance gaped at him. “You kicked Dad out?”

“He resigned—sort of happily, really. His last two years he and Mom traveled.” He shrugged. “I’m not just blowing smoke when I say things have changed. The company is different. I am different. You can trust me.” He rose from his seat. “Rather than talk about what I’ve done, let me give you a tour of the place.” He motioned to a richly detailed, double-door entrance. “And you can see for yourself how different the company is and see for yourself that I’m not running it like Dad.”

Chance also rose, but he rose slowly, without any enthusiasm. He might have a strange sympathy for his brother rattling through him now, but that didn’t mean he wanted to work for him. “I don’t know, Max.”

“Come on. What can it hurt to look?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to. I’ve distanced myself from you and the company.”

“And you hate me?”

“No more than you hate me.”

Max frowned. “Why would I hate you?”

“Because you grew up as the favorite son. The ‘real’ Montgomery child, while I was adopted. Then we all found out I’m as much of a Montgomery as you are. That had to sting.”

“Not really.” He sighed. “Look. I don’t think we hate each other. I think we had one ugly family fight. I’m not going to let that stand in the way of our being a family. Mom wants this.”

A warm feeling flowed through him at the mention of their mom, the woman who loved him even though he was the product of her husband’s affair. So did the reminder that in some respects he owed her.

Max turned him in the direction of his office door. “I’m not going to browbeat you into coming to work for me. We can give Mom a family without you working for me. Hell, you can move back to Tennessee and we can still be a family. But if you like what you see, why wouldn’t you want to work here?”

Chance laughed. “Because I have my own company?”

“Who’s running it while you’re away?”

“I have a manager.”

“Who I am sure would be happy to continue running it.” Max slapped him on the back. “Wait until you see what we’re doing, little brother. You’re going to want to be part of this.”