Let it Be Me

by Jody Holford

  “I’m sorry.” His voice softened, and unfortunately, so did the stupid, traitorous organ she called a heart. “I’ve asked a lot of you. I need to find a way to make it up to you.” The thoughts that swirled in her brain would have caused Adam’s face to turn apple red. Probably hers as well if she’d said them out loud.

  “Can you stay tonight?”

  Those were words she hadn’t heard in a very long time. A sharp twist of longing hit her right in the solar plexus, stealing her breath. “Yes. Do you want to talk to Charlie?”

  “I can’t. I have to get to a meeting. I know I’ve asked a lot of you lately. I appreciate it.”

  Well, that was something. “It’s my job.”

  “Doesn’t mean I can’t thank you.”

  “Yet you haven’t.” She angled herself away from Declan while he and Charlie played tic-tac-toe.

  “I just did.”

  “Sort of.”

  He huffed out a breath, and she was sure she heard amusement in his tone when he said, “Thank you, Megan.”

  “You’re welcome, Adam.”

  The pause changed the itch between her shoulder blades to one of…awareness. Had his voice actually been playful? Sweet?

  “I’d like you not to date my friends. It’s never come up before, but when Declan answered your phone, I realized it wouldn’t be all that comfortable for me.”

  Megan sighed and straightened in her chair. She started to respond with something along the lines of, “It’s none of your business,” but stopped. Was he…jealous? Why would he feel uncomfortable with her dating anyone, even a friend, if he had no interest in her? She was confusing herself and probably making something out of nothing.

  “Duly noted.”

  Another pause, this one drawing on Megan’s patience.

  “Was that out of line?”

  Their waitress was walking toward their booth with their pancakes. Her stomach growled; her thoughts tripped over themselves and tangled up with too many emotions. He was driving her crazy in several different ways.

  “Does it matter? See you when you get home.”

  She winced at the way those words sounded. Saying goodbye, she hung up and realized Declan was watching her with curiosity.

  “Here you go, sweeties,” the waitress said, depositing the delicious-looking breakfasts in front of them. “Anything else I can get for you folks?”

  “No, thank you,” Megan said.

  “No thanks,” Charlie answered, poking his finger into the whip cream and licking it off.

  “We’re all good,” Declan answered.

  When the waitress walked away, Dec helped Charlie cut his pancakes before Megan could tell him Charlie could handle that on his own. He eyed her as he completed the task.

  “You know how sometimes things work out in ways you never could have imagined?” He cut through his stack and shoved a huge bite into his mouth.

  Megan removed the whip cream and spread the butter evenly. “I guess. Why?”

  He winked at her and spoke around his bite. “No reason. Just an observation.”

  Megan frowned. It wasn’t even ten a.m. yet, and she wished the day was over. Better yet, she wished it was actually her day off so she could spend it with Garrett and Parks. Men who didn’t confuse or fluster her constantly.

  “What are we doing next, Meg?” Charlie asked with a whip cream moustache.

  She sighed. “How about a nap?”

  Charlie laughed while Megan worried about what else the day could bring.

  Chapter Eight

  When Tuesday rolled around, Adam felt like he’d been a week without sleep. It took everything in him not to bail on Cara. At lunchtime, he made a list of goals for his future, and since giving Charlie a family was on it, he arrived at Mario’s just before eight o’clock. Adam pulled one of the double doors open, letting an older couple go first. The man thanked him before putting his hand to the small of the woman’s back. Watching the gesture reminded him of how he missed the little things in a relationship: the hand holding, kisses good night, and casual touches taken for granted.

  He let the door close behind him, and on his sentimental thoughts, and waited for the host to greet him.

  Dressed in black pants and a dress shirt, a man smiled welcomingly. “For one?”

  “Actually, I’m meeting someone, so I’ll just head to the bar,” Adam said, looking to the left and seeing that other than two guys and the bartender, there was no one else sitting there.

  “Certainly,” the host said, gesturing for Adam to go ahead.

  He sat on one of the stools and breathed deeply. Hell of a day and he still didn’t know how things were going to turn out with William Barton. He’d managed to run into the restaurant owner accidentally on purpose. They’d had drinks at the hotel bar and talked briefly. He’d snagged Yankees tickets and left them for Barton the following day, and the man had texted a thank you. Adam was waiting another day before following up. He needed this account.

  “Get you a drink?” The bartender was dressed the same as the host but looked closer to college age.

  “I’ll wait, thanks. I’m meeting someone.”

  The kid nodded and went back to the other end of the bar. Mario’s had great Italian food. If the drinks went well, he wouldn’t mind grabbing something to eat. He’d missed lunch, and his stomach was angrily voicing its protest to that.

  He checked his phone. Eight oh three. Not too late, but still late. He started a text to Megan but deleted it. It was becoming a habit, texting her more and more. One he needed to break. It was hard enough for Charlie to be attached to her. Not that he was getting attached in any way. It was just…surprisingly easy to talk to her, to bounce ideas off her. But she was still pissed at him for his behavior on Friday. Adam realized he didn’t like when Megan was mad at him but didn’t want to examine why too closely. Besides, he couldn’t apologize for wanting his son to be safe, for needing to know he was safe the way he needed air in his lungs.

  Seeing Charlie on the horse had dropped his stomach to his shoes. Megan didn’t understand because she wasn’t a parent. And maybe she’d never fallen off a horse she hadn’t wanted to be on in the first place. Bitterness swept through him at the memory.

  He forced his mind back to Megan. It wasn’t a difficult push…his thoughts seemed to wander to her more often lately. Which irritated him because he was supposed to be finding a suitable partner, not thinking of ways to thank his nanny for doing her job. This is above and beyond her job. She deserves your appreciation, and that’s all this is. Gratitude coupled with respect.

  The downside of getting more comfortable with her was he found himself crossing the line now and again, snapping at her instead of giving polite, professional requests. He didn’t like being at odds with her or knowing he’d upset her. Especially when he was asking so much of her.

  This morning, she’d left another list of candidates on his desk, not only checked out but starred in order of opinion on which would suit him best. The table she sorted the women into amused him. It was a perfect blend of cheeky and effective. Like Megan. He stared at his phone, firming his lips together. He sent a quick text.

  Adam: Charlie in bed?

  Megan: Why wouldn’t he be?

  Of course he was. Despite it being summer, Adam had insisted that Charlie’s schedule stay much the same. In a couple of weeks, he’d be with Reece, and God knew that woman didn’t keep regular hours. Even before she’d gotten a role on a prime-time soap opera, she’d been a night owl. Adam used to tease her that she’d been born one.

  Adam: Just checking.

  Megan: Your date is so boring you have to check in?

  His jaw tightened. How could he feel both appreciative and infuriated by the same woman?

  Adam: She’s not here yet.

  Megan: Minus ten for being late. Maybe her outfit will make up for it.

  Adam: Minus seven for now. One point for every minute she’s late.

  Megan: That’s a very g
enerous system.

  Adam: I thought so.

  Anticipation beat quickly in his chest. He ignored it as his thumbs hovered over the screen: What are you doing?

  Megan: Curled up on the couch watching Gilmore Girls. Don’t be on your phone when she gets there. That’s an immediate minus fifteen.

  His burst of laughter caught him off guard, even as the image of Megan snuggled into his oversize, cozy couch cushions popped into his mind. Far too easy to picture her there.

  He smiled. He started to reply when he heard his name. Looking up, he saw that Cara, blond and blue eyed, just as her profile had pictured, was smiling tentatively at him. Wearing a low-cut black dress that hugged her curves, he was undecided if the dress made up for lack of punctuality. He slipped his phone in his pocket and slid off the stool.

  Extending a hand, he shook hers. “Cara. Nice to meet you.”

  “Same. Sorry I’m late. I thought I knew where it was, and then I took a wrong turn.”

  They stood facing each other after they shook hands. Gesturing to the stools, Adam asked, “Is here all right or did you want a table?”

  She sat on one of the stools. “This is fine.”

  Taking a seat beside her, he tried to swallow down the nerves rising inside him. The bartender strolled over.

  “Get you two a drink?”

  Adam looked at Cara. “I’ll have a gin and tonic, please.”

  “Cola, please,” Adam said.

  The bartender nodded and went to fill their order.

  Adam angled his body toward Cara, second guessing the choice to sit at the bar. It made conversation slightly awkward.

  “Not a drinker?” Cara asked.

  “Not on work nights.” Or on weekends really. But perhaps he should have ordered a beer or something so she didn’t feel weird.

  “Disciplined. That’s a good sign,” she said with a small laugh.

  When the bartender dropped off their drinks, Cara took a small sip of hers and then picked up the napkin, fiddling with it. She’s nervous, too. Put her at ease. Do you even remember how to do this?

  “You look very nice. I was worried you’d be a sixty-year-old man with no hair and a beer gut,” Adam said.

  Awesome. Way to go. Perhaps you’d like to never date again?

  Before he could apologize for how that sounded, Cara laughed. A bit too loud, but genuine. “I was worried about the same thing. You never know, and you hear all those awful stories.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And thank you. I wasn’t sure what to wear. It’s been a while since I’ve had a date,” she admitted, picking up her drink again.

  “Any particular reason?” He only asked because she opened the door.

  She shrugged. “I was in a pretty serious relationship for seven years but got tired of waiting around for a ring. It’s not even that I wanted to get married that badly; I was just tired of standing still. I wanted to feel like we were moving forward. Like we had a plan.”

  Adam folded his forearms on the bar, his face turned toward her. “That’s not an unreasonable thing to want. How long ago was this?”

  Cara set her drink down. “It’s been six months. But it was over way before that. How about you?”

  Six months wasn’t very long. But she was attractive and genuine, so he pushed the concern aside. “I was married for about two years. I have a son. Charlie.”

  “I love kids. Can I see a photo of him?”

  He hesitated. It was a normal question, but giving up a little piece of his privacy caused a hitch in his breath. Shrugging it off, telling himself he was being weird, he pulled out his phone. She was interested. That mattered.

  He scrolled through and found one of Charlie laughing at something, looking up at Adam. His heart clenched. Damn, he had a great kid. “This is him.”

  She leaned in to look and put one hand to her chest. “Oh my. He’s a handsome guy. What a great smile.” She looked up at Adam. “He looks like you.”

  Most people said that, but Adam could see Reece’s nose and cheekbones. Every now and again, he saw her mannerisms, which, frankly, felt weird.

  Pulling him out of his thoughts, she asked, “Is this your first online match up?”

  “It is. You?”

  Shaking her head, she picked up the drink and finished it off. “Fourth. You’re the first one who isn’t a disappointment.”

  He wasn’t sure if that was a compliment. The bartender came by and asked if she wanted another. She shook her head, which pleased Adam. He had no issues with drinking but liked to know he wasn’t the only one who thought ahead and drank responsibly.

  Shifting on the stool, Cara pulled her very large purse onto the bar and dug out her phone. He thought perhaps she was going to show him a picture of something, but instead, she readied the camera app and leaned into him.

  “Smile,” she said. She snapped a picture then frowned. “You didn’t smile.”

  “I actually don’t love having my picture taken,” he said, hoping she’d take a hint.

  “One more. That’s all. I have four hundred followers on Snapchat. I promised an update.” She held it at arm’s length again and tipped her head onto his shoulder. She slipped the phone back into her purse, and Adam wondered two things: why would any woman need a bag that big and how could he get her to delete those photos?

  You haven’t dated in forever. This could be the new thing. Run with it. And relax. Channel your inner Declan. The thought of his friend reminded him of the jolt—and irrational anger—he’d felt when Dec had answered Megan’s phone the other morning.

  “How old is Charlie?”

  Adam blinked and focused on his date. Tendrils of hair teased her neck, but most of it was pulled up in a loose bun. “He’s seven.”

  “Great age. I have two nephews. They’re six and four. My sister is pregnant again and hoping for a girl. It’s a nice spread in age, I think.”

  “Would you two like to see an appetizer menu?” the bartender asked as he stacked glasses.

  Cara looked at Adam. “You hungry?”

  “Not really,” he replied.

  …

  It was just after ten when Adam let himself into the house. He quietly removed his shoes and put them in the closet. Fatigue seemed to have laced itself through the muscles in his shoulders. Leaving his briefcase in his office, he shrugged off his jacket and hung it at the kitchen table. Other than the light over the stove, the kitchen was dark. He headed down the hall to check on Charlie, who was sprawled sideways on his twin bed. His heart actually jumped at the sight of his kid. It took a bit of maneuvering to straighten him and get him under the covers. Charlie didn’t wake, which made Adam smile.

  The door to the guest room where Megan slept was open. Peeking in, he was surprised to see she wasn’t in bed. If she thought she was staying late, she typically went to bed in the main house. His stomach growled, and he detoured back to the kitchen to grab something to eat. He’d just stepped onto the tile when he saw Megan walking unsteadily, nearly weaving toward him.

  Worry raced through him, making his heart constrict as he rushed toward her, arms out to catch her if she fell. “You okay?” he asked.

  She screamed. Full on, scare-the-hell-out-of-him screamed. The sound was accompanied by a flurry of arm flapping and hopping.

  “Holy hell on a stick. What are you doing here?”

  Her breath hitched, and Adam’s heart played a wicked drum solo in his chest. “I live here! What’s wrong with you?” He grabbed both of her arms to stop her from flailing around and hitting him, which she’d already managed to do twice.

  Hands on the smooth, toned skin of her biceps, holding her close, he looked down to see she was only in shorts and a tank top. Short shorts. Where’s-the-rest-of-them, how-did-he-not-know-her-legs-were-so-long shorts.

  She dropped her head forward onto his chest, pulling in deep, uneven breaths, and her voice came out shaky. Sensations pummeled his chest, and the tension in his shoulders had nothing to do w
ith being tired. The feel of her against him like she belonged there blocked his throat.

  Voice husky, she mumbled, “I fell asleep on the couch. I was making my way to bed. Why are you skulking around in the dark? What’s wrong with you?”

  Like she suddenly realized she was resting, flush, against him, she stepped back and pointed her finger at him.

  The feel of her was imprinted on his chest, making his voice harsher than he intended. “Do you always wake up like you’re drunk? Seriously, you were weaving like a race car driver.”

  Her eyes were still half asleep, and now that his own had adjusted to the dim lighting, he felt ridiculous. And turned on. What? No. Hungry. You feel hungry.

  A shiver racked her body, and not thinking clearly, Adam stepped toward her and reached out to rub his hands briskly up and down her chilled arms. He knew, the second he touched her, that he shouldn’t have. It messed with his head. And other parts of his body.

  He spoke in a low, even tone. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It was probably me coming in that woke you. I was checking on Charlie, who thankfully sleeps like a hibernating bear.”

  Her eyes were locked on his, but she said nothing. Her mouth opened, pulling his focus down to her lips. When her tongue snuck out to wet them, his stomach tightened. Was it his imagination or did her skin feel warmer than a moment ago? The sleek silk of her arms teased his palms. Neither of them moved. Adam’s heart was gearing up for a fantastic finish, and for one second, he worried it might beat out of his body entirely.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “You said that. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” she said, her voice low. Because she was still waking up? Or because she was as aware of their proximity and the feel of their bodies moving closer as he was?

  “I deserved it. If not for now, then for the last few days.”

  He couldn’t make himself drop his hands. He liked the feel of her. Her scent was warm honey. Desire ripped through him with such intensity his fingers tightened, and she gasped.

  He stepped back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “You didn’t. At all.”

  Hungry. He was hungry. For food. He needed food. He turned toward the fridge, wondering where his brain had gone in those brief seconds. Starvation could do strange things to a man. So can a gorgeous, warm, half-naked woman. No, not a woman. Nanny. She was his nanny. His son’s caregiver and almost seven years younger than him. She was hearts and moonbeams, promises and whispers in the dark. Adam was…not. Which you damn well need to remember.