Cindy kept her eyes on Tory’s.
“Such a pretty girl,” she whispered, stroking Cindy’s forehead as the baby suckled. “I think we’re going to have to teach your daddy to talk a bit when he feeds you.”
Cindy’s eyes closed again and Tory glanced down at the bottle. It was empty. She woke Cindy long enough to get her to burp, then laid her in the crib.
Standing at the door, with her hand poised over the light, she suddenly wished Chance would take the job with his family’s company and keep her as a nanny. Then she could watch these kids grow up.
That was foolish dreaming. Dangerous dreaming.
Or was it? The doctors had said they had no idea how long Jason would be in his coma. And she had no intention of deserting him. Being a nanny for the next eighteen years gave her something she wouldn’t otherwise get—a chance to be a mom.
Was it so wrong to want that?
It served everybody’s purposes. Chance got the help he needed raising his children. She got to be a mom of sorts, even though she’d never marry.
It seemed perfect.
Except for her damned attraction.
No. She couldn’t stay here forever. Six years tops. Which gave her enough time to finish her degree at nights—if she buckled down.
Maybe she should start thinking about that and not daydreaming about kids who weren’t hers.
* * *
The next morning Chance had another appointment with his brother. He dressed in a suit and tie again and all but raced out of the house—except this time he remembered to kiss the kids.
But when he was alone in the SUV, their “almost” minute on the sofa the night before jumped into his head. He had to fight the urge not to bang his head against the steering wheel. How could he even think about kissing Tory with Liliah’s antics so fresh in his brain? Especially since Tory had “somewhere” to go on Saturdays and Sundays. She might not have a boyfriend, but she had a secret.
He sucked in a breath. A secret that probably wasn’t any of his business. Tory was an employee. And maybe if he started thinking of her only as an employee some of these “other” feelings would go away.
He shoved the car key in the ignition. “What she does on her own time is none of my business.”
Except the most reasonable, most innocent explanation had been ruled out when they’d met in the nursery for the twins’ middle-of-the-night feeding and she’d stared at him as if she hadn’t seen a man in years.
Plus, she’d stuttered over the reason why she wanted time off. She’d groped for a way not to have to tell him where she was going and in the end settled on just being vague. And if his relationship with Liliah had taught him anything, it was to be suspicious of people who were deliberately vague.
So his shields were back up. He’d think of her only as an employee and even then he’d be careful. He would not—absolutely would not—tolerate any more drama in his life. And if this secret of hers brought any, he was going to fire her.
Period.
Reasoning that through should have made him happy, but it actually made him antsy. Angry, but with a nervous twist. He didn’t want to fire her. He didn’t want her to have a secret. He didn’t want to have to fight his attraction. He wanted to be able to pursue it.
Which annoyed the hell out of him.
What was it about this woman that he couldn’t stop thinking about her, even when common sense told him something was wrong?
He pulled into the executive parking lot for Montgomery Development, got out of his SUV and used the private elevator to go to Max’s office. When the elevator doors opened, the sofa and chairs were filled to capacity with men and women in gray, black and navy blue suits.
Relief poured through him. Business. This was his domain. This would get his mind off Tory and her secrets and her soft brown eyes.
He stepped into the office and like a proud big brother, Max said, “Everyone, this is my brother Chance.”
As Max recited names, Chance shook a long row of hands, suddenly feeling a part of things. He knew that was because Max introduced him as if it were a foregone conclusion that he’d be staying in Pine Ward. But as the day wore on, Max’s behavior began to strike him as being odd as the nanny’s.
Why was he going to such great lengths to be nice? To include him? The big brother he’d left hadn’t so much been bad as he’d been an attention grabber. Knowing he’d be taking over Montgomery Development, Max had all but shadowed their dad, wanting to be just like him. Now, suddenly, he was different? How had Max bamboozled him into believing that?