by Nan Dixon
“What happened?” Her hand clapped over her mouth.
“He told me I wasn’t doing anything the way you would. That he didn’t need to go to bed when I told him to, even though I showed him the note.” Hurt filled his eyes, leaving them a rocky brown. “He’d rather be with Mr. Gray or Mr. Dan.”
“I’m sorry.” Was Josh reacting to her apprehension? “I’ll talk to him.”
“I put him in my bed. He refused to get in Issy’s girly bed.”
“I didn’t even think about where he would sleep.” She’d been too worried about Nathan staying on Josh’s schedule. What kind of mother didn’t think about where her son would sleep?
They walked into Nathan’s bedroom. A canopy bed was set against the wall. Not the bed she pictured this large man sleeping in. She pinched her lips together, holding in a laugh.
“Yeah, yeah.” Nathan pointed a finger at her, his voice soft. “It was easier to keep the Fitzgeralds’ bed.”
She went to pick Josh up.
“I’ve got him.” Nathan pushed back the covers and scooped up her son.
“What about Issy?” she whispered, wanting to carry her son.
“I’ve got the monitor.” It was clipped to his waistband.
She followed them into her apartment and couldn’t help but admire the way his shorts hugged his butt. Had she ever admired a man’s butt before? Even if Nathan usually looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, he was in shape.
He headed to Josh’s bedroom. The night-light made the room intimate.
“Do you want him on the top bunk?” he asked.
It was too dangerous to carry him up the ladder. She flipped back the covers on the lower bunk. “Put him here.”
Nathan settled Josh in the bed before pulling up the covers and brushing his hair back. “Sleep tight.”
A chill ran through her. That was her job. She was the one to tuck Josh in and smooth back his hair.
She bent and brushed a kiss on his forehead. “Love you to the moon and back.”
Backing up, she bumped into Nathan. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. His body was a furnace. She went from cool to sizzling, like a chicken breast tossed into a fiery pan.
“Careful now.” Nathan’s breath fluttered around her ear. His voice was low and gravelly and made her insides melt.
She couldn’t move. Stepping forward would bang her into the bed. Behind her was a hot wall of man.
His hands rubbed her arms like he was soothing her. “You’re shaking.”
Shaking? “I...”
No man had touched her this way since Brad had died.
No one except Levi. And he’d mashed his disgusting mouth against hers. She shivered harder, frozen.
Nathan turned her around. She was pinned between his heat and the bed. Her every breath filled with his scent of citrus and fresh-cut wood.
“Are you cold?”
She couldn’t speak. Shaking her head, she rubbed her arms, but that only made her think of the way his hands had touched her. Was she getting sick?
There shouldn’t be any sparks between her and Nathan. But she couldn’t stop staring into his dark eyes.
He tipped her head up with a finger, his concerned gaze locking on hers. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” she croaked.
There was a rustling on the monitor attached to Nathan’s shorts. Isabella whimpered.
“Shoot.” He stepped back.
She pulled in a deep breath, the air still infused with his scent.
“I have to catch her before she goes into a full meltdown.” He backed up, worry furrowing his forehead. “You’re okay?”
“Perfect.” She followed him to the kitchen. “It’s been a long day.”
He hurried out the door. “See you tomorrow.”
She waved, but he’d already turned the corner. The lock on the kitchen door clicked and she let her forehead thump on the wood. She sure hoped she was getting sick. Because the other option, being attracted to Nathan, was not possible.
No nibbling. She’d made that rule. So why did she want to take a big bite out of someone she barely trusted?
CHAPTER SEVEN
“WE’LL GET ISSY caught up on her immunizations.” Dr. Sanders made notes on the chart in her hand.
“Okay.” Nathan didn’t care about immunization. He wanted to know why Issy wouldn’t talk.
The doctor wasn’t much older than Nathan, but her hair was already showing strands of salt and pepper. She had an aura that made him trust whatever she said.
The doctor showed Nathan where she was on the height and weight chart. Well, where she should be. She wasn’t on the charts.
Why couldn’t anything in his life be regular? Was one day of normalcy too much to ask? “She eats well.”
“Keep that up. Offer healthy snacks, nothing too salty or sugary.”
“Got it.” Cheryl always gave Josh and Issy carrots, fruit and those weird rice cakes that looked like anemic hockey pucks. He’d ask her to shop with him. It was better than trying to read the books and parenting magazines. It would take him hours to get through those. This parenting gig wasn’t for sissies.
“What about her speech?” He set his hand on Issy’s shoulder. “She doesn’t talk.”
His little girl looked at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She leaned into him and he wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her back.
The doctor sat on the rolling stool face-to-face with Issy. “Can you tell me your name?”
Issy buried her face in Nathan’s belly. Something warm wormed its way through his chest. She wanted comfort—from him.
“You can tell the doctor,” he encouraged her. “She’s nice.”
Issy shook her head. Her finger covered her lips.
“I have dyslexia,” he choked out. “Is this another form of that...flaw?”
“Dyslexia isn’t a flaw.” Dr. Sanders touched Issy’s nose. “You just interpret the world differently.”
Easy for the doctor to say. She didn’t have to live with the challenges. And the label of being slow in school.
He didn’t want that for Issy. He wanted her life to be normal.
“There have been a lot of changes in her life.” Dr. Sanders kept a smile on her face. “Has she said anything?”
He let out a deep breath. “‘Mommy’ once.”
The doctor pulled out an otoscope. “Open your mouth, sweetheart.”
Issy always did what she was told. Never talked back. Nathan couldn’t relate to a child like that.
The doctor peered at her throat.
“There’s nothing physically wrong with this little cutie.” Dr. Sanders gave Issy’s shoulder one more pat. “We can go down the path of checking out all the options.”
“Yeah. I want to know.” He wanted a pill, a treatment. Anything that would show he hadn’t passed his defects on to his daughter.
He held Issy, wincing every time the nurse stabbed her with a needle and rattled off the vaccine names. The information Heather had left hadn’t showed Issy getting any vaccinations in three years, so they were catching up.
“It’s okay, Busy Issy.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It won’t hurt for long.”
Dr. Sanders came in as he pulled on his daughter’s bright pink shirt. “Do you have any other questions?” the doctor asked.
“Um, bedwetting?”
“At this age, it’s not unusual to not have full control. Limit her liquids at night.” The doctor made a note on the chart. “Make sure she goes to the bathroom before bed and use a nighttime diaper. I’ll get you more information.”
He nodded. Cheryl had told him the same thing.
The doctor handed him a pile o
f pamphlets. Nathan suppressed a groan. It would take him forever to decode the information.
“Come on, Issy.”
He needed to get back to work. Hell, he’d been gone for almost two hours. Now that they’d roughed in the walls, the electricians were supposed to start rewiring the entire carriage house. But the electricians hadn’t arrived by the time he’d needed to take Issy to her appointment.
On the way to his truck, he turned his phone back on. Jed had left him a message.
Called the electricians. They had start date wrong. Daniel pulled us for framing at Abercorn.
Damn. Had he messed up? He checked his clipboard and the emails he’d sent to the supervisor of the electricians. The date was the same. For once, this wasn’t his screw-up.
He signed Issy back in to day care and watched as she joined her class. He’d been lucky to get a spot in Josh’s day care.
The teacher read a book. Issy sat on the floor next to another little girl. His daughter nodded, never saying a word. The kids stayed quiet, but there were still rumbles about the story.
If Issy didn’t have physical problems with speaking, what was wrong?
Since there wasn’t any work happening on the restaurant, he headed to his apartment and caught up on paperwork. Payroll was due.
When Pop had first gone to Texas for his cancer treatments, Nathan and Daniel had tried to do all the bookkeeping Mom usually handled. That had been such a disaster, they’d finally hired an accountant.
The accountant preferred getting everything by email, but Nathan didn’t trust his brain. Sometimes what he typed wasn’t anything like what he intended.
He double-and triple-checked his crew’s hours and then pulled together the information for the invoicing. His head ached by the time he shoved the paperwork into a folder. He should have enough time to drop off the files and pick up the kids.
Even though he drove to the accountant’s every two weeks, when he turned the corner nothing looked familiar. No.
He stared at the buildings. Had he ever been here? He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. The street signs were in a foreign language.
He pulled into a small lot. He couldn’t tell if this was private property or a public parking lot, but at this point it didn’t matter. Pulling out his phone, he called up his GPS app. At least he could use verbal commands.
He didn’t have a clue if the address the GPS’s female voice rattled off was right. He doubted anything would make sense right now. He pulled out of the lot and waited until the directions caught up with him. Some white-haired guy tooted. Nathan waved. The guy could have been mad or someone he’d known all his life. He was clueless.
Each turn had his heart pounding a little faster. Nothing looked familiar. Hell, what was the bookkeeper’s name? Had he already been on this street?
He drove by Sadie’s, recognizing the bar by the colors on the sign. He could almost taste the ice-cold beer. Was he close?
Two more turns and the GPS had him pulling into a strip mall. It looked right. He matched the address on the storefront with his phone and headed to what he hoped was the right door.
The receptionist looked up. “Can I help you?”
“I’m dropping this off for...” The name wouldn’t come. “Our accountant.” God, he hated looking like an idiot.
“Kerrianne Dreyer?”
Kerrianne. That was her name. “Yeah.”
She shook her head. “Her office is across the street.”
Shit. “Really? Which one?”
She pointed out the window. “Right there.”
“Thank you.” His cheeks felt hotter than a welding torch. He could make out a K and D on the sign.
He barely waited for the traffic to clear before crossing the street. The door jingled when he shoved it open.
“Hey, Nathan.” Kerrianne emerged from her office, her white hair piled in a bun. She’d babysat him and Daniel as kids, which made forgetting her name even worse.
“Kerrianne.” He pushed the panic back. “I’ve got the payroll and invoice info.”
She checked her watch. “You almost missed the deadline. I wish you would use email.”
“I like stopping in,” he lied. Winking, he asked, “How else could I ask you out?”
“You couldn’t keep up with me.” Her cheeks turned pink. She looked through the information. “I’ll let you know if I have any questions.”
Out on the sidewalk, he exhaled a shaky breath, taking his time crossing the street. At least he couldn’t lose his truck. It was in plain sight.
He took a moment to roll his shoulders. It had been years since he’d gotten so turned around. He tugged a water bottle from the backseat and took a big swig, wishing it was something stronger. He checked the time. Cheryl would kill him if he stopped for a drink before picking up the kids.
To be safe, he paired his phone with his truck and requested Fitzgerald House as his destination. He’d probably drive to Tybee Island if he wasn’t careful.
He didn’t need the prompts from the GPS to get back to the B and B. He pulled in next to Cheryl’s car. She was setting up the wine-tasting tonight and he had both kids until she was done. He would pick up Issy and Josh and figure out dinner. He’d just been at their day care center. This shouldn’t be a problem.
But it was.
When he got out of the truck and headed to the street, he froze. Should he turn right or left from the B and B? Swearing, he pulled up the map app on his phone. This was ridiculous. He plugged in his earphones, just in case he ran into someone he knew. He didn’t want people knowing he couldn’t remember how to get his own damn daughter.
Finally, he found the day care. It was quiet. Too quiet. The receptionist was missing.
He signed out Issy and Josh and headed back to their classrooms.
Issy’s room was locked and dark. His breath caught. Where was everyone?
Muffled voices came from a door down the hall. He rushed over and pulled it open. Josh talked with a teacher Nathan hadn’t met yet. The teacher glared at him as he walked in.
Issy fit together a puzzle. She looked up at the creak of the door and smiled. Josh glanced over and scowled.
Exactly the reactions Nathan had expected.
“You’re late.” Josh moved over to a locker and pulled out his backpack. “You’re supposed be here when the little hand is on the five and the big hand is on the six. The little hand is on the six.”
“I had work to finish.” He held out his hand for Issy and she put her hand in his. “Let’s go.”
The teacher walked over. “You’re new?”
“Yes. Nathan Forester. I’m picking up Issy and Josh.”
She put a protective hand on Isabella’s shoulder. “She’s...quiet.”
Tell him something he didn’t know. “There’s been a lot of changes in her life.”
“Normally, you’d be assessed a penalty because you’re here after six, but we’ll waive it for today.”
“Thanks.” He gave Issy’s hand a little tug, but she ran to grab a folded paper and handed it to him.
“What do you have?” He knelt and opened the paper. Pink and white exploded on the buff-colored paper. “Wow. It’s beautiful. What is it?”
Josh looked over his shoulder and sneered. “Her bed.”
“It’s wonderful.” He folded the paper. “We’ll hang it on the fridge.”
She nodded. He needed to get magnets like his mom had used. She’d always hung Daniel’s papers with A’s on the fridge. The only thing she’d hung on the wall of fame was his art.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Josh threw on his backpack. Nathan tried to catch the second strap to help, but Josh twisted away from him.
Maybe Issy would like a backpack to carry things, too.
His head pounded a little harder.
Outside, Josh pulled away, but Nathan caught both kids’ hands. “We don’t cross the street unless we’re holding hands.”
That was what Cheryl would want. He wasn’t that stupid.
“Nathan?” A woman crossed the street and stopped next to them. “Nathan Forester?”
The blonde looked familiar, but he couldn’t dredge her name. His brain was full of holes.
“Hey, darlin’,” he said to cover up.
“You forgot my name?” She rolled her eyes. “It’s Tammy.”
“Of course I haven’t forgotten you.” He eased back. They’d been partners, sort of, in high school—selling drugs. “How’s it going?”
“I heard you were back.” She stared at the two kids. “What are you up to?”
“Back in the family business.” He wrapped a protective arm around the kids.
“I thought you hated construction.” She pulled out a cigarette and held it in her lips, flicking her lighter.
Nasty habit.
Issy whimpered and tucked herself behind his legs.
“Why don’t you join me for a drink?” She jerked her head at the bar. “We can catch up.”
His mouth watered, almost tasting the beer, but he shook his head. “I have to get the kids home and fed.”
“Pity.” She ran a manicured nail down his bicep. “I’m still in the business. Maybe you want to make a little extra cash?”
“Nope.” He stepped away from her. Hell, no.
She blew out a stream of smoke. “We were good partners. Think about it.”
After she walked away, he took the kids’ hands again. “What do you guys think about pizza for dinner?”
“Pizza’s for Saturdays with my mom.” Josh’s chin stuck out.
“Well, it’s dinner tonight.” He didn’t have the energy to fight with the kid. Nothing he said would make Josh happy.
“That lady stank. Like a skunk,” Josh said.
“Josh,” he warned. But Josh was right.
“Smoking will kill you.” Josh scuffed his toe and caught a rock on the sidewalk. “You have icky friends.”
“She’s not a friend.” Nathan didn’t have friends. He didn’t let anyone get that close.
