I started tearing up when she wrote in her journal how broken she felt.
These last few days, I’ve woken up before the light of morning to see Dexter inches from me, his breaths steady and deep as he slumbers by my side. He has been true to his word and not once touched me. At least, not physically. Emotionally, he pricks me, making me feel as if I’m bleeding drops of self-doubt. How can I truly trust him if I don’t even trust myself? I ache to reach out and touch his bare skin, to feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath my hand. To have his strong arms enfold me and keep me as emotionally safe as he has kept me from physical harm. Is that even possible?
I wiped my tears. It was like reading an autobiography, except I wasn’t on the run with a handsome yet mysterious man who knew everything about me. But I was working for one who emotionally and physically touched me. Who wrote words that came straight out of a chapter of my heart. How did he do that? Did it mean anything?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I noticed a light on in Miles’s office before I went in to wake up Henry for the day. We had a big day planned that started with story time at the library with my meddling friends who were all worried about me and decided to crash toddler time. Then I was taking him to the early works museum we had in town.
All good activities that didn’t involve being around his uncle. His uncle, who kept me up late into the night mesmerized with his words. Not only did I devour the entire manuscript, but I went back to re-read several parts. Especially those that involved Isabella and Dexter almost kissing, or some of their fights. They were delicious scenes. Miles had upped his game, especially the sexual tension. I guess he took my mom’s words to heart. I held his manuscript to me as I would my child. It was better than I’d hoped. I wanted to kiss him for it, and I didn’t mean that figuratively. But I wouldn’t.
I decided to creep down the hall and give him back his manuscript. He said he was waiting to write more until I got it back to him. Which made me curious as to why he was already in his office. There was no singing going on, so he wasn’t following his rituals, unless I’d missed that. But surely that would have woken up Henry.
I lightly rapped on his door. “Miles?”
“Come in,” he called right away.
I walked in to find him looking a little harried, sitting at his desk, eyes fixed on the sketch I had given him. And OH, HOLY MOTHER, he was shirtless, wearing only pajama pants. That answered that question. He, like Dexter, had a nicely defined chest with the perfect amount of dark hair, with some sexy gray strands playing among them. So sexy you wanted to nestle your head on his chest and run your hands across it repeatedly.
Stop. Stop, Aspen. Avert your eyes, woman! My head went overboard and looked straight up at the ceiling. I. Was. An. Idiot.
Miles stood and looked up at the tray ceiling. “Something amiss, love?”
Uh, yeah. You’re shirtless and I want to pet you. My head lowered to normal levels as did his. Our eyes met in the middle. In his, I saw distress. “Are you all right?” I asked.
He swallowed hard. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“Hmm. That is a good question. Not one I have an answer for at this time.”
“Will you let me know when you do?” Oh, my gosh. That came out way too flirty. I was supposed to be professional.
He ran his hands through his mussed hair. “You will be the first to know.” His eyes drifted toward the folder I was clutching in my arms. “How far did you get?” He was anxious to know.
Against my better judgment, I approached his desk. Seriously, I should have kept a ten-foot barrier between us at all times, but as always, I kept finding myself drawn to him. I handed him the folder. “I finished it.”
His tired eyes came to life. “And?” He took the folder from me.
“It was amazing. I can’t wait to see where you go with it.”
Relief washed over him as he sank into his chair.
“I did make a few notes, but it was mostly typos and a few clarifications. I also,” I bit my lip, “made a title suggestion.”
He started furiously flipping through the pages. “Don’t leave me in suspense; where is it?”
“I’ll let you discover it. I’ll bring Henry by soon for a dance party. You might want to throw on a shirt before I record it, or your publisher will get inundated with panties or knickers as you would call them.”
He laughed into his manuscript, still searching for my suggestion. “We wouldn’t want that.”
No, I wouldn’t. I headed for the door.
“Aspen,” Miles called.
I turned to find him looking even more troubled.
He held up the folder. “Thank you. As always, I’m honored. Your opinion means a great deal to me.”
“You’re welcome. I’m anxious to see Isabella and Dexter come together. And to figure out what Dexter’s hang ups are. I thought Isabella would be the only one keeping them apart. It’s almost as if it’s more Dexter than her.”
He lowered the folder, slow and steady. “He’s afraid he will never be good enough for her.”
“I got that vibe, but Isabella has felt thrown away and abandoned for most of her adult life. She can’t be with someone who is hesitant with her. It will only make her doubt herself more. She’s not asking for perfection; she only wants someone who will make her a priority and keep trying.” I realized how I was pouring my own heart out to him. “I mean, that’s how I see it, but you’re the author.” I pointed at the door. “I better go get Henry up.”
“Aspen, is that how you feel?”
I twisted a loose strand of hair that had escaped my messy bun. “I’m trying not to feel right now because it scares me.” I was too honest with him. He brought that out in me.
“Because you figured it out?”
I tilted my head. “Figured out what?”
“That you’re ready to scale walls again, as is Isabella, for the man who isn’t afraid to give her his all.”
I stood stunned. The conversation we had in this very room came back to me. The one about if Isabella and I would know not only who we would scale walls for but if we even remembered how or wanted to. I stared blankly at him for several moments trying to process what he said, more like trying to truthfully deny it, but he was right. I would scale walls for a man who would give me his all and climb side by side with me, reach for me when I faltered. Throw me over his back and carry me if need be. For that man, I would try.
“I suppose we are,” I answered for Isabella and myself.
“What if the man in question wants to, but he himself is afraid?”
“Then he should own up to it and be honest with me, I mean, Isabella. She, better than anyone, would understand.”
“Would she?”
“Yes.” With all my heart, yes.
~*~
I could only imagine how ridiculous my friends and I looked sitting in the children’s section of the library on the beanbags talking about my unexpected life and watching the two most adorable boys ever pretend to read books. Well, Henry pretended and we had to keep Elliott from shredding the pages. Henry did know several letters. We had been working on those and he loved to point out the ones he recognized. It was mainly the ones that made up his name.
“I can’t believe his wife called you,” Jenna commented. We were hashing out the Leland saga first.
I was surprised too. I pulled out my phone and showed them pictures of Ruby. Chloe was half in love with her already. She was begging for me to take her to Texas to meet her. On the other hand, she was crushed her dad left. I called Mike and confirmed it. At first, the douche bag, tried to cover for his friend and not give me a direct answer, but I was relentless until he caved. It wasn’t that Chloe was ready to see Leland, but she wanted him to choose her.
I offered to let her stay home from school today and we would eat ice cream for lunch, but she put on a brave front and soldiered on. It might have had something to do with h
er helping with the daddy-daughter dance decorations after school today with her BFF Brooke. I prayed she didn’t feel less because her dad wasn’t taking her. Her grandfather was so honored to have the privilege. He called this morning to see what color of corsage he should order. I loved that man.
Emma shifted in her beanbag chair, trying to get comfortable. “I did hear a rumor that Kylie left town with someone. No need to guess who with.”
“They deserve each other.” I handed Henry a pop-up book.
“You know he’ll eventually cheat on her too,” Shelby commented.
“Probably. I never understood why they didn’t end up together in the first place. Why bother with me, when she’s who he really wanted?”
Jenna and Emma gave me pointed looks.
“You never got it, did you?” Emma asked.
“What do you mean?”
Jenna saved yet another book from her son in the nick of time. “You were steak and Kylie was a hamburger.”
“You’re saying I was a piece of meat?” I joked, making everyone laugh.
Emma smacked my arm. “First of all, I could totally go for some red meat. But most importantly, you were and are the ‘it’ girl. You just never saw it. You still don’t.”
I ruffled Henry’s hair. I couldn’t get enough of the kid’s curls. “I’m definitely not. I mean, look at me.” I waved a hand over my go-to outfit of a cardigan and ankle pants. “I’ve turned into Mrs. Brady from the Brady Bunch, minus the five extra kids. And even Mrs. Brady wore shorter skirts than me. She probably wore skimpy panties too. How do you think she got all those kids?”
“Half of them were her stepchildren,” Shelby snickered.
“True, but my point is that I’m a boring mom and nanny who wears grandma panties. And I’m fine with that.”
Henry looked up when I said nanny and gave me the cheesiest grin. I loved him.
Jenna pulled out her phone and pulled up an article. “I’ve been meaning to share this with you. Look at this, it says the new celebrity trend is grandma panties.”
I took the phone from her to see if she was joking. She wasn’t. “Wow. Those are some expensive, ugly panties. They could seriously get a six pack of those for half the price of the one pair.” I handed Jenna back her phone. “Listen to how boring I sound.”
Emma sat up and turned toward me and shook my shoulders. “Aspen, you’re gorgeous. You’ve always been put together. Your look is classic, and it comes off as confident. Of course Leland went running, because he knew he was never worthy of the steak. He’s a ground beef guy. And you are anything but boring. Not only are you singlehandedly raising a preteen girl, but you work for one of the most popular authors in the world right now, not to mention the most attractive.”
“Ooo la la.” Jenna fanned herself. “Seriously, how do you keep your hands off him?”
“Well . . .” I bit my lip. “I don’t, exactly.”
“What!!!” they all yelled in unison. The librarian came over and gave us a stern look. We all hung our heads in shame for a moment. But it didn’t take long until I had three sets of eyes begging me to give them some details.
I wasn’t sure I should, but I guess I had already let the cat out of the bag. And honestly, the cat needed some advice. I set Henry on my lap and covered his ears for a second. He thought it was a game, but I didn’t want him accidentally repeating anything. “So, we kissed Friday night.”
They each faux screamed into their hands, lest we should have to wear the cone of shame from the librarian again.
I removed my hands from Henry’s ears and kissed his head.
Shelby took my hand. “Is that why you were crying on Sunday?”
“It’s part of it,” I responded.
“Did he say something about the K-I-S-S?” Jenna spelled out to protect Henry.
“He said it was perfect, but it only happened because my mom told him his kissing scenes were pathetic and he wanted to know how to fix them.”
“And you volunteered?” Emma wagged her brows.
“In a manner of speaking.” I grinned.
Jenna rolled her eyes. “He was totally looking for an excuse to make out with you.”
“I don’t know. He kind of freaked out afterward and left.”
Shelby kicked her legs like a child. “You got to him. And I think he’s gotten to you.”
“So why were you crying?” Emma rubbed my leg.
“Because,” I sighed, “I felt something. I felt him. But I signed that stupid contract and he’s always going on about how we need to stay friends because he doesn’t want to hurt me. To top it off, his ‘friends’ are coming to visit on Thursday and staying through the weekend. One of them is that woman, Penelope, I told you all about. And honestly,” I choked up, “I’m confused and scared. I don’t know what’s happened to me.”
Henry turned around and smooshed my cheeks. “Don’t cry. I love you, Nanny.” It was the first time he had ever said that.
“I love you.” I wrapped my arms around him and snuggled him for as long as he would let me while my friends watched half in adoration and half in awe. Henry would only cuddle for so long, before he climbed out of my lap and toddled over to Elliott, who was playing with some toy cars now. Jenna gave Henry some to play with as well.
Shelby patted my leg. “Sugar, I know what’s happening to you. It is as I expected all along; you’re falling for your boss.”
“The Brit got to you.” Emma wiggled her brows.
“Forget all that. You never said if he was a good K-I-S-S-E-R.” Jenna was back to spelling.
“Of course, he was,” Emma said. “Look at her, she still has the afterglow.”
They all looked at me to confirm.
“It was amazing,” I sighed. “But . . . it will never happen again.”
Each of their shoulders sagged.
“Do you think this Penelope woman has something to do with it?” Shelby asked.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I think so, maybe. And his no dating the nanny rule. Please just tell me, though, if I’m one of those women?”
“The hot kind that most women would chew their foot off to become?” Emma asked. “Yes, that’s you.”
I reached over and nudged Emma. “That’s not what I mean. I don’t want to be the woman who is constantly picking the wrong guy. Or the unobtainable one. Or worse, the one who always wants someone else more than her.”
Emma pushed herself out of her beanbag chair with some effort. She knelt in front of me and got right in my face. “Listen here, I’ve been waiting for years for this to happen to you. Does this mean Miles is the one? I don’t know. But I know you’re intelligent and you’re not a teenager anymore. You of all people wouldn’t let just anyone in. The fact you’ve let him in at all is a miracle. So there must be something about him.”
There was something about him.
She smooshed my cheeks too, but harder than Henry. “If he’s not smart enough to see what he has in you, then let him have Penelope. But,” she smirked, “I’ve seen you two together, and if Penelope is coming here hoping to rekindle something or keep something alive, she’s going to need a really big match.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“How quaint this is.” Penelope ran her hand along Miles’s back before she took a seat next to him at the table. Her tone indicated she thought our “family” dinners were anything but quaint.
I wasn’t sure why Miles insisted we keep our usual routine with his friends in town. I thought for sure when they arrived a couple hours ago Miles would want to go out to dinner like Penelope suggested. After an elongated hug, I might add. I wouldn’t be surprised if Miles had claw marks on his back where she’d marked her territory with her sharp black nails.
She’d immediately marked me as her enemy. Her violet eyes had been shooting daggers at me since the moment Miles introduced us. What did she say? “You are not matronly at all.” She squeezed my hand like she was hoping I would bleed. “Miles’s description of you d
id not do you justice.”
Miles had given me an uneasy smile and responded, “I said she was motherly.”
What the heck did that mean? I was under the impression he thought I was beautiful. But who knew? He’d been acting odd ever since his friends arrived. He was following me around everywhere and insisted on helping me make dinner. His friends found this to be entertaining. They all perched around the island while Miles and I made rosemary chicken and roasted vegetables. Thankfully, Oscar and Molly were my kind of people—funny, a tad off color, and kind.
“You are so domestic now,” Molly had teased Miles. Molly came as a bit of a surprise to me. She was supposed to be this award-winning stylist, yet she wore a sweatshirt and yoga pants without a hint of makeup. She even had gray roots in her mousey brown hair. But her personality was attractive, so that’s all that mattered. And she didn’t look like she wanted to stab me, unlike her friend Penelope.
Oscar, on the other hand, made up for Molly’s outward lack of style. The hair guru was overly dressed for the occasion in a form-fitted royal blue jacket with matching pants and a white button up. His hair was gorgeous, dyed platinum on the top with dark undertones, and styled to messy perfection. He called everyone lovey, even Miles, but I had a feeling it was an inside joke between them. Either way, I loved his easy manners.
There was some definite tension at the table when we all sat down. Miles tensed under Penelope’s touch, which admittedly I was happy about. I noticed too how Oscar and Molly shook their heads at their friend as if they wished she would keep her hands to herself. That was a wish I could full-heartedly support. It didn’t help that once Penelope sat down, she gave me one of those smiles that said game on. I wasn’t playing games and refused to participate in any she might start. I planned to focus on Chloe and Henry. Miles seemed to be of the same mind.
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