Trying It All

by Christi Barth

  A growl emanates from her throat, but she does as I ask. “This better?”

  I skim the contents. It’s damning. My signature is at the bottom. “Yes, it does and…I’m sorry.”

  “I told you…Wait. What?” Her brows knit together—adorably so.

  I swallow. “I signed it, therefore I am guilty of kicking you and your family out. Again, I apologize.”

  Her mouth twists. “Not so pompous when you actually have to talk to the evictees in person, huh?”

  “I have no idea since I’ve never been attacked at home.” Della’s eyes begin to blaze, so I take a different tack. “There are perfectly good reasons why your family can no longer live in the caretaker’s home.”

  “And those would be?” She taps her foot on the cement.

  Well, I can hardly tell her that I’m a crown prince exiled to America and my family needs the privacy St. Claire affords us while we work through our grief and attempt to figure out our future.

  For one, she wouldn’t believe me, and two, she wouldn’t believe me.

  No one in this small town knows who we are and I intend to keep it that way for as long as possible.

  I settle for what is the most truthful answer I can give her without betraying my family. “We desire privacy.”

  “Who doesn’t in a small town,” she counters.

  “I have children to look after and since their mother died, it hasn’t been easy.” Again, not a lie and judging by the lack of interest my father had in the boys, I doubt they are his.

  Fidelity is not written on our coat of arms and it was not something my parents put into practice.

  “You have another child?”

  I nod once.

  “Oh.” She tries to remain hard and determined to see her mission through, but her eyes are a dead giveaway. They go from platinum to the color of a sky on a rainy day the minute he whimpers pitifully. “Is she…he okay?”

  “He’s…I have no bloody idea.” I exhale thickly. “I’ve only been at this a fortnight. Barely.”

  “A fortnight sounds like a long time. May I?” She holds out her hands and I hesitate.

  “I’m really good with kids and not because I have boobs, either. They really like me…and I’ve been babysitting since I was thirteen. I even have references.”

  What could it hurt? It’s not like I’m doing a bang-up job at the moment.

  “Have at it.”

  She takes Pierce, all but drapes him over one shoulder, and begins to lightly tap him on the back. My brother lets out a rather lusty burp. Immediately, the baby quiets and I want to shout my frustration. He had fucking gas of all things.

  Gas!

  Pierce’s eyes drift shut as she continues to tap and bounce him around. He’s not screaming and his little body isn’t rigid anymore, which means I can get sleep tonight. Glorious, want it so bad I’d murder for it, sleep.

  Nothing is ever going to feel as good as my bed tonight, and I owe it all to the angel holding him.

  “I could kiss you right now. Tell me what I can do to repay you?”

  What look like tears fill her eyes, but she blinks and stares me down again. “More time to find another home. A different job.”

  Guilt claws through me. It’s not her family’s fault mine has been ripped apart, and what kind of bloke am I to do that to hers?

  Besides, what’s the harm in allowing them to stay? To continue what they’ve been doing for at least a century.

  Everything.

  I ignore that pessimistic part of my soul. “You don’t need more time. Your family can stay—indefinitely. Your father—I assume he is the caretaker—can keep his job as well.”

  Della’s mouth drops open a little before she recovers. “Actually, my stepmother is the caretaker. She took over his duties after he…after he passed. I help her after school and between shifts at the diner in town.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” An acute pain settles in my chest and I breathe into it, willing it away. “Your stepmother may resume her duties at once.”

  “Thanks, Your Highness,” she says drily and my pulse speeds up.

  Then I realize she’s being sarcastic. “Call me Colin.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t be calling at all.”

  Despite the days of exhaustion, or perhaps it’s because I’m a man who can’t resist the challenge she’s presented, I add, “And what if I were the one doing the calling?”

  Beaumont emerges from the house, holding Aiden, who is squirming and crying.

  “I’m very sorry your…Mr. Sinclair, but the little prince wants his da—you.” I stiffen at the slip, but Della doesn’t say a word. Perhaps she thinks it’s an endearment or nickname.

  “Hey there, big boy.” I take him from Beaumont. Aiden sniffs, then wipes his nose on my shirt where it joins the formula from Pierce’s exploding bottle.

  If only the women I used to know could see me now. They’d run in the opposite direction.

  “I’ll take the baby to the nursery,” Beaumont says to Della. I don’t miss the little kiss she gives my brother.

  “Night, sweet boy.”

  “Daddy,” Aiden whimpers, and my heart pinches.

  “Bless his heart,” Della whispers, coming closer. Tentatively, she reaches out, brushing the back of his hair with her fingers. “I’m sorry for rushing over and confronting you. I didn’t realize…I should’ve come over during the day like a normal person, but I’ve been out of town, working as a camp counselor, and just got home. I found this and…well—I’m sorry for intruding tonight.”

  “It’s not a problem. Really. We’ve sorted everything out.”

  Aiden wriggles around, and upon seeing her he shouts, “Mummy.”

  Fuck. “I’m sorry. He misses his mother.” I wince as his fingers dig into my shoulder. “Just let me put him to bed and we—”

  Aiden pitches sideways and Della grabs him, lifting him into her arms. He tucks his head into the crook of her neck. “It’s okay,” she murmurs, and I realize that she’s not only speaking to him but to me as well. “Everything will be okay, little prince.”

  Her gaze meets mine and there is so much compassion and empathy in the depths of her eyes that I feel as if I’ve found a kindred soul in her.

  Stupid really, considering I’ve known her all of five minutes.

  “You look exhausted,” she says. “Don’t you have a nanny or someone to help you?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.” She starts to walk around the pool and I follow after her, nearly bumping into her when she stops. “Would you mind if I sat down for a while—your son is an armful.”

  “I’ll take him.” I reach for him, but she steps to one side, her head shaking.

  “I don’t mind holding him.” She sits down, and after adjusting Aiden in her arms, she props up her ridiculously long legs on the chair. “You’re welcome to join us.”

  “I don’t think the three of us would fit,” I counter lightly, and she blushes.

  “I meant in the other chair.”

  I bite back the smile that’s trying to force its way onto my face. I can’t remember the last time I flirted, even a little…not even before my parents were…taken from us.

  “Naturally, you did.”

  “Where are you from?” she asks.

  I lift my chin a little. “Can’t you tell?”

  “I was going to say Jerkville but then you said we could stay and you have the cutest kids ever, so I’m going to go with the UK.”

  My mouth opens. No one has ever talked to me like that, especially not a woman. People used to fall all over themselves in order to get my attention.

  Hell, women started turning up nude in my bed the moment I hit sixteen and word got around that I was royally endowed.

  “Are you going to sit or not because my neck’s starting to hurt.”

  There she goes again. “Can’t have that,” I murmur.

  Sitting down, I lean back in the chair and close my eyes, letting the plu
sh cushions give me a measure of comfort.

  I’m only nineteen but I feel as though I’ve aged centuries since we were forced to leave our home.

  Beside me, Della begins to hum. The sound is so soothing that I don’t bother to look for Beaumont before letting myself truly relax. I know he’s nearby anyway.

  “Looks like your daddy is going to sleep,” Della whispers to Aiden.

  “Daddy,” he says, mimicking Della.

  His little voice makes my heart crack. I’m not sure if I should respond or not.

  “Sweet boy,” Della whispers. “You and your brother really are the cutest things ever.”

  I peer through my lashes at her. She’s leaning back like me but Aiden’s in her lap, facing her, and she’s making silly faces at him. She touches his nose, his cheeks, and ears, naming all the parts.

  “He’s had a hard time adjusting.”

  “Has he?” she asks.

  “Very. New time zone, new bed…new people.”

  “He’s not been himself, huh? Maybe even making decisions without fully thinking them through.”

  “Perhaps.” This time I open my eyes and feel myself fall under her spell. “It won’t happen again.”

  She holds out her hand to me. “I say we try being friends, since we’re neighbors and all.”

  With a laugh, I take her hand in mine, ignoring the warmth of her skin and the shot of desire that blasts through me. “Indeed.”

  “Good.” She nods once.

  Reluctantly, I let go and say, “I can take Aiden from you now. I don’t expect you to entertain him.”

  Della arches a brow. “As your friend, I insist on you letting me play with your son so you can get some sleep.”

  “I don’t need any sleep,” I counter, but a huge yawn cracking open my mouth proves me a liar. “Okay, perhaps I need a little, but—”

  “I get it. We don’t know each other that well yet, but your security guy hasn’t taken his eye off me and y’all know where I live. There is literally nowhere for me to go.” She gives me a tentative smile. “Try to trust me, okay?”

  “Trust isn’t something I take lightly.” The men I trusted to protect us were the ones responsible for my parents’ deaths. But for some reason known only to God, I want to trust Della. Perhaps it’s because I need to trust someone again, need my faith in humanity restored.

  “I’m trusting you to keep your word,” she reminds me.

  She’s right. My word is the only thing that assures Della that her home is still her home. “Fine. I’ll try.”

  “That’s all you can do. That’s all any of us can do.” She resumes playing with Aiden, singing a nursery rhyme about sheep.

  I can’t stop looking at the two of them. Honestly, I can’t stop looking at Della and for the first time since our exile, I feel hope.

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