by Brea Viragh
“No, I don’t.” He said nothing for a moment, then added, “I have a very good relationship with my parents. I’ve always been loyal, dedicated, sympathetic, and motivated to help others. Why not be the person I am and help others at the same time? Kids react well to me and I offer a steadying male presence, which can sometimes be hard to come by these days.”
She glanced up in shock when he placed his hand on hers, suddenly beside her when she hadn’t been aware of his approach.
“Don’t you agree?” he asked.
“I...yes, I suppose.”
It was a risk to trust him with her personal business. Although the way she saw it, it was necessary. He was going to see, sooner or later, the stuff she’d rather hide. She remembered the slight male helplessness in his eyes when she’d almost lost it earlier. But it had appeared to be more disappointment than panic. After only a couple of hours, she had to admit she believed she and Renee were safe around him.
He seemed to read her thoughts and released his hold on her hand. “I promise I’m not a maniac. I’ll work long hours and keep your house in order. I have an educational curriculum I developed for younger children in my care, so I’d be happy to go through some things with Renee while you’re at work, in addition to keeping her occupied and motivated. I don’t mind cooking, as you can see. I’m even handy with a mop and broom. I’ll be your knight in shining armor, fair maiden, if you but trust me. I’m here for you.”
His tone had deepened until it rumbled like two stones grinding together. When she glanced over, she saw him wet his lips with his tongue. Her gaze narrowed on the movement. “What are you, some kind of superhuman? Men don’t usually come equipped with those kinds of skills,” she said mildly.
“This one does.”
The heat of his gaze warmed her, and for a moment, Olympia found herself leaning closer to him. There was a definite air of attraction, and she might have been out of the game for a long time but she thought she could still recognize flirting.
She gripped her hands together tightly on her lap in response. There wasn’t time for attraction. Especially not to a man like Harlan. He wasn’t the type of guy she fell for. He was too calm and collected. Too willing. A little too feminine, perhaps?
Where was the fire? Where was the passion? This was no alpha male.
And yet there was no room in her life for fire and passion, so she should be grateful that her help came in a package like his. Otherwise, she’d be tempted to put one more thing on her already overloaded plate. Although, she admitted to herself, if he continued to flirt with her, they were going to have a serious problem. Could she do this without him? Maybe.
Probably not.
She cleared her throat and gestured toward the stove. “You learn to cook from your mom or did you throw something together without thinking?”
“I have a few skills in the kitchen. Not as many as I would like,” he answered.
“I guess I’ll be the judge of that.”
He studied her with an amused expression, leaning against the counter with his thumbs hooked into the pockets of his jeans. “Do I worry you?”
“Excuse me?”
“You seem to be in a bad mood whenever we talk.”
She huffed. “As this is the only time we’ve talked to each other that didn’t involve either a phone or a screaming toddler between us, that’s hardly enough to go by. Likewise, I have no idea if you annoy me or not.” She turned away, her chin raised. “I’ll have to get back to you.”
He inclined his head. “Sure. You let me know.”
Renee chose that moment to walk around the corner, clutching a blanket in her hands. “Harlan?”
“Right here, angel. Making something special for you to eat.” His voice came out in a warm rush of syllables, sounding strange and foreign to Olympia’s ear. Not baby talk, but comforting in a way she hadn’t expected.
Not to be outdone, she plastered a smile on her face. “Hey there, sweet pea. Did you have a good nap?” she asked Renee.
Renee ignored her. That was no surprise. It was, however, a surprise when she walked straight up to Harlan with her arms outstretched for a hug.
He stifled a chuckle at Olympia’s thinned lips. The way her skin twitched like a horse’s hide. Speaking low, he bent to gather Renee against his chest. “I told you, we’ve been getting to know each other. Don’t be surprised if she clings to me a little at first. It’s a natural reaction.”
“Where did she get the blanket?” Olympia didn’t recognize it.
“It’s one of mine. I carry it with me because I find it helps some children to have something to hold on to. Something soft and warm. I can buy her a new one if you want.”
“No, I don’t want.” She fought against the urge to stand up and take Renee out of his arms. This strange man standing in her kitchen, cooking her food, and snuggling her ward. The daughter she hadn’t wanted yet but was here now nevertheless.
The logical portion of her mind told her to calm down and not look for faults in her hired nanny—correction, a male nanny was called a manny, and was there a more ridiculous sounding word? The other, less rational side, the one severely affected by no sleep and having her schedule blown to shit, was convinced there was something absolutely wrong with Harlan and chose to lash out in the only way she could.
Bitter sarcasm.
“Let’s hope you cook as well as you BS,” she responded, turning her face away. “Otherwise it’s going to be a long few months together.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve decided to keep me around.” It wasn’t a question. His hand traced tiny circles on Renee’s back.
Olympia’s fingers curled into claws. She hid the reaction under the table. “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.” She shrugged, affecting nonchalance.
“That’s an infantile evasion if I’ve ever heard one.”
Her gaze whipped up to his. “You’re not funny.”
“Sorry.” He set Renee in her chair and secured her in place. “I thought I was. I apologize for my lack of amusement.”
“More like your lack of sense. No wonder you can’t find jobs if you talk to clients like that.”
If anything, his grin widened. “Some of my clients in the past have appreciated my honesty and humor. I always considered myself a funny guy.”
“I’m not seeing it,” she replied bluntly.
“Give it time. I’ll grow on you.”
“I don’t want you to grow on me. I want you to take care of Renee and do your job. Period.”
He was unfazed. “Well then, beginning tomorrow, I’d like to start taking her to the park in the afternoons. While the weather is still nice. We’ll be running out of good days soon.”
Renee ignored Olympia when she tried to reach out and rub her shoulder. Jerked away to avoid the touch. Okay, then. No big deal, she thought. She refused to take it personally, even when it stung.
Harlan doled out a couple of scoopfuls of broth into two bowls. “Rice will be a few more minutes.”
“Hold on. You said park. That’s twenty minutes away. You can’t walk there.” She took the offered bowl, blew on a spoonful, and slid it between her teeth before it had time to properly cool. Despite the third-degree burn, she had to admit—grudgingly—the soup was good. Really good.
“Yes, the park. There are a few couples I know who bring their kids and it would be good for Renee to start socializing with children her own age.” He set a dish of green beans and carrots and a small cup of milk in front of Renee.
“I’m sure it would,” Olympia argued. “However, until I’m able to be present with you, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to drive her anywhere by yourself.”
His hands went to his hips. “Then how do you expect me to get the groceries?”
“I’ll get the groceries.” She swallowed and tried not to stare at him when he bent to pick up the cup Renee threw forcefully onto the floor.
It was too difficult not to stare. He was lean, and a little un
der six feet. The scrappiness of his build hid most of the muscles and the broadness of his shoulders. She pictured him more as a back-alley brawler than a child-care provider. Even though he did look awfully cute as he wiped up spilled milk with a paper towel.
“You expect me to sit in the house all day with her? That won’t be very productive.”
She shook her head. “I don’t care. I’m not sure I can trust you yet and I’d feel much better if you confined your activities to the house. Full stop. If you can walk to the park, then that’s fine, but I don’t want her getting in a car with you.”
“What about in an emergency?” he pushed, tossing the paper towel into the trash.
“Then you’ll call me from work and I’ll get here as soon as possible. I’m just down the road.”
“Olympia, you’re going to have to trust me. If you want me here to help you, then let me do my job. You can’t hamstring me right off the bat,” he said reasonably.
“Yes, I can. And if you don’t like it, then you can leave.”
He strode off toward the stove, leaving Olympia biting her lip and wondering if she’d been too hard. He couldn’t be thrilled with her. As soon as she was sure Harlan would be the upstanding picture he presented, then she might consider letting him take Renee places in his car. Until then...until then, he would have to acquiesce to her wishes.
He dumped the cooked rice into the soup, and she noticed that the three layers of dirty dishes she’d been fighting since Monday were gone.
“I took care of them,” he answered without turning around. Reading her mind again. “And I put away the clean ones.”
She simply nodded. “Fine. Thank you.” Then silence descended as he stirred the soup and Renee apparently discovered she could eat green beans with her fingers. Finally, she couldn’t take the silence anymore. “Are we going to have a problem, Harlan? Because I refuse to tiptoe around in my own house. Things are hard enough—”
Renee sent her plate flying, crashing into the kitchen cabinet, strewing uneaten vegetables across the floor, her expression surly.
The sound jolted Olympia and sent her own spoon clattering to the floor. Perfect.
When she glanced over at Harlan again, he was clearing up the mess with a smile on his face. “No problem, Olympia. Whatever you say. I have this covered.”
His reaction shocked her and for a moment she sat in her seat with her mind blank and the words in her throat dried. Then her eyes narrowed.
She hated condescension. If he was simply placating her, then she had no choice but to retaliate. They’d have to see where things went, but if he continued questioning her judgment when it came to Renee...it was war.
Chapter 4
Olympia was a piece of work, Harlan decided as he carried a drowsy Renee upstairs to her room five nights later. Not that he was an expert when it came to judging women, especially single ones, but he had two working peepers, a brain, and he wasn’t completely dumb, either.
She hadn’t batted an eye that first night when he’d caved to her wishes and did so with a smile on his face. Although he could see the cogs turning in her head. She wasn’t sure what to make of him. Which, at the end of the day, he was okay with because he was starting to understand her better.
Underneath the tough exterior was a good heart, a soft heart, a heart afraid of being hurt again. She hid her vulnerability behind an impenetrable wall of perfection and questioned anyone who didn’t react the way she expected them to react.
Which meant he had freaked her out more than she was willing to admit.
Good, he mused with a grin. He wanted to keep her on her toes. And he was enjoying getting to know her better, taking down her walls with kindness. It hurt him that she didn’t expect the kindness.
How had her husband treated her, so that any kind of selfless reaction was foreign?
It was unfair to blame a dead man. Maybe it wasn’t his fault at all.
Harlan shook his head. It also wasn’t right, considering the circumstances, for him to entertain some healthy daydreams—and night dreams, come to think of it—about his employer. Her face...there was something memorable about her kind of beauty. It brought men to their knees and made them wonder what was beneath it. Wonder and imagine stripping away the layers to get to the core of her. Or maybe it was just him.
He knew she was intelligent. She was competent and responsible. Obsessed with doing, saying, thinking, being the right thing. Her heart was in the right place.
Even if she hadn’t hired him to care for Renee, the fantasies would have to stay in his head and remain there. Harlan knew from personal experience that flings didn’t work. Especially flings and one-night stands where both parties weren’t on the same page. Olympia, for all he respected her, was not in a position for a relationship. Of any kind.
Too bad, the wistful area of his heart argued. The romantic part he hadn’t gotten to use much. It would have been amazing to romance her, seduce her. Love her.
“Harlan?”
The tiny voice broke through his thoughts and he returned his attention to the nearly asleep child. He’d carried her upstairs after she’d nodded off in front of the television. Olympia was working late and asked him to stay until she got home. It was no problem.
He shifted her in his arms. “Yes, honey?”
“I don’t like it here.”
His heart broke at the tremor in her words. “Why not?”
“I miss Mommy and Daddy. I miss my room. It doesn’t feel like mine here.”
“I know it’s hard for you,” he said gently, setting her down on the bed before tucking the sheets around her, “but it is going to take a little time before things start to feel normal.”
“She hates me.” Renee raised her fists to rub her eyes.
His heart broke a little more. “You mean your Aunt Oly?”
He’d taken to calling her that when he and Renee were alone. Renee couldn’t quite pronounce Olympia, so it was another way for them to bond, and at this point Harlan was taking any opportunity that came his way. Renee was a beautiful child inside and out, it was easy to tell. She was quick and spunky and full of life. She was also lonely and traumatized.
That makes two of them, he thought, as Olympia popped into the forefront of his mind. Although she would never admit to being lonely and traumatized.
Renee nodded, the curls around her face bobbing with her movement. She could barely keep her eyes open now, her breathing becoming even. “She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” he insisted. “You know how you feel? Like nothing is right anymore? Like your whole life has been put into a snow globe and shaken, shaken, shaken?” He demonstrated. “Aunt Oly feels the same way.”
The little brow wrinkled. “She does?”
“Yes, she does. We need to give you time to let the bits of snow settle. And we have to give Aunt Oly the same kind of time. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but she lost something too.”
“What?” Renee asked sleepily.
Trust a little girl to ask the hard questions, the ones he was not really equipped or prepared to answer. “Never mind. It’s a story for another day. You go to sleep and I’ll be here to make you breakfast in the morning.”
She didn’t utter another peep, drifting off amidst the twinkling of her Little Bo Peep nightlight. That was one thing Olympia had already scored major points on, Harlan mused, and a good thing too. There was nothing better to help push a scared little kid over the edge like fear of the dark. Renee was resilient, and he gave her credit for how well her four-year-old mind was handling the upheaval—tantrums and crying aside. At least she was eating. At least she was open to taking a bath and brushing her teeth and hair.
He tiptoed down the stairs amid the squeak of old wood. Seven o’clock and all’s well. There were crickets chirping outside, the sound coming in through the opened windows. He drew in a deep breath and walked into the living room. There was Olympia on the couch, her computer on her lap and reading g
lasses perched on the edge of her nose. She didn’t wear them all the time, he knew, only when her eyes were tired. She’d been wearing them more and more lately, though.
He cleared his throat to announce his presence and she glanced up. “Is she asleep?”
“For now. I’m not sure how long she’ll stay asleep, but I think we need to have a talk. When did you get home?”
“About five minutes ago. Just kicked off my shoes and sat.” She placed the computer on the coffee table and stared down her nose at him. “I really hate it when people say they need to talk to me. It’s never good.”
His smile was as soft as his voice. “It’s fine, I promise. I wanted to talk to you about doing a little furniture shopping for Renee.”
“What do you mean by furniture?” Olympia straightened her back and he heard a pop. “She has a perfectly nice bed in her room. It was the same one I used when I was a kid. The rest of the pieces are antique but in good working condition.”
He kept his posture relaxed, his tone neutral. From what he’d seen of her so far, he could tell she wasn’t comfortable slipping into the position of Mother. He had a sneaking suspicion it would be the perfect fit if she stopped fighting the tide. If she took a step back and stopped trying to control everything.
“There’s nothing wrong with what you have in there. But she seems to believe it’s not her own, and I can understand where she’s coming from. She wants to feel more comfortable. More at home. Maybe not a new bed, but how about letting her choose her own bedding and curtains and things like that? I think it would help if we all went shopping together.”
Instead of getting her back up, the way she did so often, Olympia sighed. Removed her glasses and set them on her lap to polish. Let her shoulders hunch. “Poor baby. I keep forgetting this is harder on her than it is on me.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. I’d say it’s equally hard on both of you. I’m here to moderate.”
“And you do a wonderful job of it. What a diplomatic answer.” She blew out a breath. “Okay, Harlan. How is your schedule looking tomorrow?”
