“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.” He pulls into himself, hands on his bent knees as he continues. “She made it clear she wasn’t looking to get involved, which was good, because I wasn’t either. I was in a bad place and she was kind to me. I remember talking for hours, but I couldn’t tell you what we said. Then there was a bottle of tequila and body shots. I swore there was protection. The next morning, I was on a bus out of town.”
His eyes darken with self-recrimination. “I didn’t think about her when we passed through her city again. And she never reached out to me or let anyone else drag my name through the mud, though she could have gone that way. So I have no right to be upset that she didn’t include me in her personal choices.”
“That sounds…” Sad. Lonely. The reason I’ve never liked hookups. “Evolved.”
He scrubs a hand over his head and snorts. “Is that what you call it? I don’t think I’ve ever laid it all out like that before. I’m not sure what I’ll say to Rue when she asks how I met her mother.”
My physical reaction to him has been unsettling me all evening, but this unfiltered honesty is more subtly seductive. He’s reaching out, and it makes me think of my father and those balloons again.
Rick had known exactly what I needed to feel safe. If he had doubts, I never saw them, and he always told me the truth when I shared mine. If I can help Elliot get there, help him give that kind of security to this little girl who loves music and recently lost her mom, why wouldn’t I try?
“Tell her that what you told me. Her mother was kind when you needed kindness. Strong, independent and devoted to her daughter. Skip the body shots section until she’s in her forties.”
His chuckle is gratifying. “Still too young. But you’re right. She was devoted. We were there for about a month, dealing with paperwork and putting her things in storage for whenever Rue is ready to go through them. Her friends shared stories about Rue as a toddler with her mother. And pictures. They were both laughing together in every one. She didn’t have relatives, but she wasn’t alone. She looked happy.”
He’s full of surprises. “It doesn’t sound like you have to worry about what Rue will think down the road. That’s the start of your story. You saved her memories for her. Honored them and her mother. Now she gets to grow up knowing she was loved by both her parents. That she wasn’t abandoned or left behind by anyone.”
He leans forward, immediately defensive. “I’d never abandon my child.”
“You say that like it doesn’t happen all the time. You didn’t even consider it, did you? Signing away your rights.”
“Hell no.” He narrows his eyes, scanning my face. “Do you see that a lot? I’d think anyone going nanny shopping isn’t planning on dumping their kid at the nearest bus stop.”
I swallow hard. He’s too observant. “No. Most of our clients are wonderful parents.”
Many of them might be divorced or single, like Elliot, but they’re all devoted. If they weren’t, I’d be their worst nightmare.
His story might have hit too close to home. My mother died when I was only a little older than his daughter. My biological father was…nothing like Elliot.
Someone else might want you, but I sure as hell don’t.
I push myself to my feet clumsily. “I don’t mean to cut this short, but I should go take on those boxes while I still can.”
Elliot follows me with a kind of ease and grace I can’t help but admire. “I see it now.”
“See what?”
Why is he so close? Looking into my eyes like that?
It doesn’t mean what you think it means.
“The nanny thing,” he says, unknowingly bursting the bubble around us.
Told you.
“I couldn’t wrap my head around it before, but I get it now. You’ve got a way.”
I swallow again, pushing down my disappointment. “A way?”
He waggles his fingers. “You know.”
I stare at his hand dully. “Magic? Finger puppets? What exactly are you doing with those?”
He snorts and shakes his head. “I’m shit at talking about things, which is why I rarely do. And I can count on one hand the people who know about Rue. But with you, it all came tumbling out. Easy as breathing.” His lips curve. “And I feel better, so maybe it is magic. I can’t wait for you to meet my daughter. She’s going to love you.”
Because of my way.
With kids.
That’s all he meant.
“I’m looking forward to it.” I’m mildly depressed and sexually frustrated, but I’m not lying. “Thanks for the song.”
“Thanks for the soda.” He looks like he wants to say more, but then he claps his hands on my shoulders instead, squeezing with those strong, dexterous fingers. “I’m really glad I didn’t break anything.”