“I only set two places,” she murmured.
“I’ll grab another plate.” Already on his way to the door, he glanced over his shoulder and pointed at her. “Stay put. I want to hear all about the day you two had.” He disappeared into the kitchen, and she regretted the mess he found on the other side of the door.
As soon as he returned, she confessed, “I had a little trouble with the oven. I’m not used to cooking with gas.”
He glanced at the feast laid out before them. “If this is what trouble looks like, I think we’re fine.”
“I can’t take responsibility for this. It’s from my family’s restaurant.”
“Vincenzo made it!” Addison announced.
Mr. Buchanan paused from serving. “Vincenzo Marcelli?”
Skylar bit her lip. “I hope that’s okay.”
He hesitated then laughed. “Well, this finally gives me a chance to taste his cooking. Everyone’s always raving about it.” He didn’t need to state that he wasn’t welcome in the restaurant. Her grandfather made that clear enough. “So, tell me what you two did today.”
His genuine interest was unexpected, as was his enthusiasm for the meal. It made it worth all the trouble of cooking.
Addison reviewed every detail of their day while they ate. Not only did Mr. Buchanan enjoy the meal, he had seconds followed by thirds. It was safe to say he loved it.
“Well, it sounds like you two are off to a great start.”
“Tomorrow, we’re making a snowman! And Skylar promised to teach me how to bake a pie!”
“A pie?” His attention returned to Skylar, and his eyes smoldered as his voice dropped low. “I love pie.”
Addison bounced with excitement. “It’s gonna be an apple pie! We bought the apples today at the farmer’s market and I made friends with Hunter, the farmer’s son. The farmer’s a girl, daddy!”
Captivated by his daughter’s enthusiasm, he glanced at Skylar and smirked. “Who is this Hunter?”
She laughed. “He’s my cousin. He helps out at the market.”
“Ah, I think I know who he is.”
Hunter was older, but had a very young heart and a unique mind. He loved their town and every person in it. She wasn’t surprised that he was thrilled to meet Addison today. Now that he associated the young girl with Skylar, he’d likely ask about her every time they crossed paths.
After dinner, Skylar cleared the table while Addison retold the story they read before her nap. “Will you read it to me, again, Daddy?”
“I’d love to.”
Skylar pressed a hand to her heart as she slipped into the kitchen, giving the father and daughter some privacy. Mr. Buchanan was a good father for the simple fact that he showed so much interest in the things that interested Addison.
Rinsing off the plates, Skylar set the dishes on the rack to dry and scooped out three servings of fruit salad, topping each one with a dollop of whipped cream they made from scratch.
The door opened and Mr. Buchanan appeared, startling her. “Addison’s using the bathroom.”
“Oh.” Awkwardly balancing the three bowls in her arms, she waited for him to hold the door or step aside. He did neither. “I was just going to bring out dessert.”
He stared at her, stared at the fruit salad, and the mess behind her in the kitchen. Then he frowned.
“I’m sorry about the mess. I’ll clean it—”
“Forget the mess.”
Her breath hitched. Was this it, the moment he’d call her out for trespassing in his private room and being a no good snoop?
“I want to thank you.”
“Huh?”
“This is… I can’t remember the last time we shared a meal like this, at a table, with actual conversation.”
Was there another way to eat? In her family, meals were the only way they communicated. “It’s no big deal.”
He caught her arm. “It is a big deal, Skylar. It’s a big deal for Addy and I should have realized that. She doesn’t always know what she’s missing because she’s young, but I should know better. I appreciate you reminding me of the ways I can do better by her.”
If he only knew how disinterested some fathers were in their daughter’s lives. Skylar had been lucky. She always had a dad close by, showing her how to hook bait on a line but also up for combing her dolly’s hair if that’s what was on the agenda. But some girls were simply ignored. “I think you’re already doing a great job.”
“I can always do better.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. The most important thing is that you love her, and it’s clear you do.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
Her cheeks heated. “Well…you’re welcome.”
He didn’t move and she tried her best to patiently wait and ignore the strawberry juice slipping down her thumb.
“I think you’re the best choice I’ve made for my daughter in a long time.”
His words struck a chord deep within her heart and her gaze lowered. “Thank you.”
The silence expanded, tightening the energy around them like a rubber band she feared might snap. Her stomach swooped and she held her breath as his feet moved closer. When his hand slowly lifted, her heart beat wildly and her knees shook. “Mr. Buchanan—”
“Let me help you with this.” He relieved her of the fruit salad cups and pushed open the door, holding it with his body so she could slip by.
Okay, totally misread the situation.
Her face flamed as she slipped by him, her back slightly brushing his front—one hundred percent by accident—but she swore she heard his breath catch in a masculine sort of grunt.
What was a grunt? She wasn’t versed in grunting. Had she misread him? She was picking up all sorts of mixed signals.
Job. This was her job. She was harboring completely inappropriate thoughts. Head out of the gutter, Marcelli!
Addison skipped back to the table and bounced into her chair. “All clean!” she announced holding out her freshly washed hands.
Mr. Buchanan set the fruit cups on the table and Addison gasped.
“Daddy, we made the whipped cream with scratch!”
“From scratch,” Skylar corrected.
“It looks amazing!” He set out three spoons and glanced over his shoulder. “You coming?”
Skylar bustled to the table and sat down rougher than intended, jostling the glasses. “Sorry.”
He grinned. “This looks delicious. What did you put in here, Addy?”
“We put cantaloupe, blueberries, strawberries…” As she listed all the fruit, Skylar studied him. It was a perfect moment until his cell phone rang.
“Sorry, sweetheart, I have to take this.” He lifted the phone to his ear. “Erin?” The mumbled voice on the other end spoke and he chuckled. “And that’s why I need you. Thanks for reminding me.”
Skylar slipped into the kitchen and started on the rest of the dishes. Addison helped, claiming that her dad was still on the phone about work.
Once they had the kitchen returned to its usual order, she drew a bath for Addison, adding a little lavender to settle her. After the bath, Skylar combed out her hair and braided it.
They returned to the den once Addison was buffed to a shine and in her ruffled nightgown ready for bed. Mr. Buchanan blinked in surprise as if he hardly recognized his own daughter. “Look at you!”
Addison raced over to him and flung her body against his in a gush of giggles and hugs. Skylar smiled and left them alone for a bit, so they could have some time together.
At bedtime, she lured Addison upstairs with the promise of another story. Tucked in and listening attentively, her heavy, brown eyes watched the pages turn as Skylar read.
A floorboard creaked and Skylar sensed they had an audience, which distracted her. Sure enough, Mr. Buchanan observed them from the door but didn’t enter or interrupt.
At the end of the story, Skylar brushed a hand over Addison’s hair and wished her sweet dreams. Only then, did Mr. Bu
chanan enter the room to kiss his daughter goodnight.
Skylar waited in the hall as he quietly backed out of the room and shut the door.
“You really have a gift with children.”
“Thank you.”
He hesitated. “Was she good for you, today? I know she can be challenging at times.”
She could, but so could every four-year-old. “She was an angel.”
He chuckled. “I know my daughter, Skylar. It’s okay to tell me the truth.”
“Mr. Buchanan, she was perfect. I’d tell you if there were any issues.”
“Rhett.”
She bit her lip. It was the second time he reminded her to use his first name, but Erin had adamantly referred to him as Mr. Buchanan when addressing Skylar. Still, he was her boss, not Erin. “Rhett.” She couldn’t survive another awkward silence. “If it’s okay with you, I’m going to head home. I still have to pack and—”
“Of course.” He took a wide step back and averted his stare to the other end of the hall. “I hope we didn’t detain you.”
“Oh no, dinner was nice, and I intended to help get her to bed. That’s my job, after all.” It was, wasn’t it? She really wasn’t clear about when she should step in and when she should back off when Rhett was around.
“Well, thank you for a great first day. We’ll expect you at the same time tomorrow?”
“I’ll be here.”
He watched as she bundled up, and she wondered what sort of thoughts he hid in the wide-open silence. It would be less awkward once she moved in and could just slip away to her room to avoid these strange moments that sort of made her feel like an exhibit at the zoo. Did he always stare so much?
It had been a long day and she’d hardly slept the night before. Typically, when she finished a shift, she liked to zone out and forget about work, but she thought about the Buchanans the entire drive home—especially her boss.
The strange thing about Rhett Buchanan was his ability to put others at ease. He’d redeveloped their forgotten town into a storybook village, complete with all the bells and whistles. Yet, in his own home, he seemed completely at odds. Personal accents and assets remained tightly packaged and tagged, as if he never truly settled in.
The mansion was cold because it was simply a house. It boggled her mind that a man who could transform their entire town couldn’t turn his own house into a home.
They didn’t have any Christmas decorations or personal photographs sitting around, and some of the rooms, like hers, looked completely untouched. She questioned if tonight was the first time they actually sat down for a meal in the dining room.
As she navigated the snowy roads home, she considered all of these things. And while she’d taken the job to take care of a little girl, she decided it wouldn’t do any harm to go a little further, and take care of Addison’s father as well.
7
Rhett glanced at his watch as Erin continued to review her notes from today’s meeting with the school board. She’d been droning on and on about the gymnasium renovation at the middle school for nearly an hour.
“I think we have everything,” he interrupted, earning a confused stare from his assistant.
“You still have to vote on the—”
“Just say yes.”
“Rhett, this is a big deal—”
“It’s for the kids, Erin. The town can afford it.” He didn’t mean to rush the decision, but he wanted to get home. Lately, he’d been anxious to return to his house and discover what awaited him.
Last night, the girls baked a blueberry cobbler from scratch. It was still hot from the oven when Skylar topped it with a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream.
His mouth watered even now as he recalled the way her auburn hair fell over her shoulder. When she tucked it behind her ear, she got a smudge of caramel filling on her cheek. That little smear distracted him for twenty solid minutes, until he finally had to tell her so she’d wipe it off.
She blushed and used her fingers to smudge it away. Then she sucked the tip of her finger into her mouth and laughed. Such a simple, natural motion, yet it unraveled him.
He was a total cliché, lusting for the nanny, but he couldn’t help it. At first, because of her age, he expected a certain level of maturity. But that wasn’t the case. If anything, Skylar was more mature than women his own age.
Then, because she was a teacher and into things like popsicle stick crafts and tissue paper collages, he hoped she’d be a little too corny, in a sort of well-intentioned, dorky way, but maybe he was the dork because he found every project she and Addy created absolutely fascinating.
Skylar was so damn clever and creative. She made a butterfly out of a coffee filter, some Smarties, and a clothespin. This couldn’t be the stuff they taught in college. She had a use for everything.
Her age wasn’t repellant, because no matter how he did the math she was a legal, adult woman. And her personality wasn’t stopping his mind from playing a non-stop game of strip the nanny in his head. And her cooking, well hell, every time he tasted her food he wanted to taste all of her.
Last night he had a full blown fantasy about taking a swipe of that caramel filling on his own fingers and feeding them slowly into her hot little mouth. He wanted to leave her nipples sticky and wet and kiss his way right down to the hot apple pie between Skylar’s legs.
He was so fucked.
It hadn’t even been a week. How the hell would he put up with her proximity long term. And he couldn’t mess this up, because she was seriously the best governess Addy ever had.
Besides, who was to say she’d be interested in him? She was too pretty, too smart, and too damn sweet. He kept waiting for her to do something immoral, something a little shitty that proved she wasn’t perfect, and she almost did.
While goofing around with Addison, trying to make a game out of cleaning up her toys, Skylar impersonated an ogre by hiking up her pants, messing up her hair, snorting like an animal, and wobbling all over the den.
She hadn’t realized he’d come home and was completely unaware she had an audience. Her play acting was so unguarded, he should have felt embarrassed for her. Instead, he found it endearing. He supposed he had a thing for sexy ogres.
He’d sat up most of the night doing math problems in his head. But numbers didn’t lie. If Skylar was twenty-one and he was thirty-six, he was fifteen years her senior, and therefore a very creepy old man who should not be thinking of her that way.
“Hello? Earth to Rhett.”
He blinked at Erin, clueless of whatever she’d just said. “Sorry, I got distracted.”
“I’ll say. What’s up with you today?”
“It’s the holidays.” True, but not why he’d been distracted. Now that he thought about it, he had nothing ready for Christmas. Skylar had distracted him in that department, too.
“I’m still working on a list for Addy. Any progress with the chinchilla thing?” Addison wanted some computerized chinchilla pet that needed artificial food and care to survive. It was the item of the season, and they were having a tough time finding one.
“Not good.” Erin flicked her pen against the notes she held. “I found a few on eBay, but they’re going for hundreds and there’s no guarantee they’re unused. She’ll want a brand new one, so it’s programmed specifically to understand her.”
That wasn’t the news he wanted. “Well, keep working on that.” He stood and went to the coat rack.
“What about the rest of this stuff?” She gestured to the stack of files waiting on his desk. “We really need to go over everything. I could order out.”
He didn’t want to keep the girls waiting. It wasn’t abnormal for him to stay late and share takeout with Erin, but things had been so normal this week, he wanted to see how long he could keep that up, especially for his daughter’s sake.
“I promised Addy I’d be home by seven.” He gathered up the files in his bin and transferred them to his briefcase. “I can look these over at home.”
> “Do you want me to follow you there?”
“No, you go ahead and clock out. I’m sure you have plenty to do.”
She appeared a little stunned that he was wrapping up early, but he was hungry for another home-cooked meal.
When Rhett got home, the house smelled divine. A savory, honey glazed ham waited on the dining room table and Christmas carols played from the kitchen. Addison greeted him with her usual excitement. Today, her hair was pulled up in pigtails with curly red and green ribbons.
“Daddy! We made Christmas cookies!”
“You did?” He scanned the kitchen for Skylar and smiled when she appeared from the pantry.
“Hi.” A dusting of flour clung to her jaw and she wore a red ruffled apron.
Her dark auburn hair was pulled up into some sort of wild knot at the crown of her head but a few strands had escaped. Most distracting of all, was the strap of her bra showing where the collar of her shirt had shifted askew. It was hot pink.
“Hi.” The word escaped like gravel, and he felt raw with the desire to throw her back into the pantry and fuck her right against the pasta and rice.
She smiled, setting a heavy mixer on the counter. “We’re still cleaning up.”
He frowned, not recognizing the appliance. “What’s that?”
“Oh, I borrowed it from my mom. You don’t have a mixer.”
“I don’t?”
She shook her head and untied her apron. “Usually, I’d just do it by hand, but these were sugar cookies and they take a lot of mixing to get the dough right.”
“I see.” She put the heavy mixing machine into a box and he frowned when her purse appeared. “Are you leaving?”
“If it’s okay with you. My mom called, and she needs the mixer back. Something about a cookie swap and having to make fifteen dozen of Russian Tea cakes by morning. Plus, I still have some packing to do for tomorrow.”
That’s right, this weekend she would move in and live there full-time. Something eager pulled in his stomach. “You aren’t staying for dinner then?”
“I wish I could, but my mom will shoot me if I don’t get the mixer back to her.”
Pining For You: Jasper Falls Page 9
