“Here, let me help,” Jack offered, trying to take the bags from her.
Since they were all looped together over her wrists, it wasn’t as easy a matter as it sounded. Jack found himself entangled with the handles and Zooey before she could successfully uncouple herself from the shopping bags.
He shook his head as he finally succeeded. “What did you do, buy out the whole mall?”
“No, just whatever came in her size,” Zooey answered breezily. “I’m kidding,” she quickly added when she saw the expression on his face. Jack was taking her at her word. The man had to lighten up. Didn’t humor have any place in his world?
Not her concern, she told herself. Shrugging out of her coat, she quickly removed Jackie’s jacket before he could escape. He wiggled to and fro, then made a break for freedom the second his arms were free.
“Daddy, you’re not looking,” Emily cried, tugging on his sleeve.
Putting the shopping bags down by the sofa, Jack looked at his daughter and smiled. “That’s because I’m blinded by your beauty.”
Emily beamed from ear to ear. Again he thought that his little girl was blossoming right before his eyes. “Really, Daddy?”
“Really.”
Jack raised his eyes toward Zooey once more, to find that she was watching for his reaction. He was grateful for what she’d done for his daughter. None of the other nannies he’d employed had ever taken such an interest in either of his children. They saw their positions as a job, nothing more. Zooey was different. She effortlessly meshed everything together, acting more like family than an employee.
He’d gotten lucky, finding her. “She looks very pretty.”
“Zooey did my hair.” Emily turned her head so that he could get a better view of her French braids. “Do you like it?”
“Very much. You look very grown up,” he told her, knowing that was what she wanted to hear. And to an extent, it was true. The little girl who had been running around the house just yesterday seemed to have disappeared. He felt a pang. Jack squatted down to her level. “Don’t grow up too fast, Emily.”
“Just a year at a time, Daddy,” she told him solemnly, as if this was a plan she had carefully laid out for herself.
Jack laughed and hugged her to him. The next moment, he heard a crash behind him. Turning, he saw that there were books scattered on the floor. It was obvious that Jackie felt too much attention was going to his sister, and he wanted some of it diverted to him. The little boy had sent several books flying off the built-in bookcase flanking the flagstone fireplace.
Zooey looked toward Jack. “I think someone’s cranky.”
Jack began to protest, then realized she wasn’t making a comment about his own disposition. “Oh, you mean Jackie.”
“This time,” she allowed.
She supposed that sounded a little edgy and sarcastic, but she wasn’t feeling as charitable as she had at the mall. That had all been about Emily, and about the little girl forming a closer bond with Olivia. But now Zooey’s mood had become a little testy. Because Jack was going out.
Telling herself she had no business reacting this way, that Jack was just her employer and nothing more, had no effect. Common sense and reason refused to penetrate the blanket of hurt that seemed to be wrapped around her.
“What do you want for dinner?” she asked as she replaced the books on the shelves. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot. You’re going out with Rebecca tonight.” She pushed the last book onto the shelf, then looked at him over her shoulder. “It is tonight, isn’t it?”
She didn’t quite carry off the innocent air she was attempting to project. She knew that because Jack frowned at her.
“Yes,” he replied. She could have gone ice-skating on his tone of voice.
Allowing a sigh to escape, Zooey bit down on the inside of her cheek in an effort to think before she spoke. She really didn’t want to say anything she was going to be sorry for. Sitting back on her heels, she couldn’t help giving him the once-over. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
He was wearing the dark gray suit he’d worn to the office that morning. Despite the fact that today was Saturday and there was hardly anyone there, he still hadn’t dressed casually. Being one of the partners of a high profile law firm dictated that he always dress formally, at least to his way of thinking.
After glancing down at his suit, he looked back at Zooey. “Yes, why? What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing.” And there wasn’t. He looked good. Too good. “I was just curious, that’s all.” She glanced at her watch. “Shouldn’t you be going?”
His eyes were steely. “Shouldn’t you be minding the children and not me?”
Zooey rose to her feet and straightened her shoulders. For the life of him, he couldn’t read her expression. Not a comforting thought for a man who made his living by juries.
“I never mind you, Jack,” Zooey replied with a smile that was paper-thin. And then she turned away, looking at the little girl who was quietly observing all of this. “Emily, why don’t we take your things into your room?” Zooey scooped up the shopping bags again.
Emily came alive, sunshine radiating from her small face. “Okay! Can I try them on again?”
Zooey laughed at the joyous enthusiasm. At least she’d been successful with part of her day, she thought. “Sure. But then we have to hang everything up,” Zooey told her. “Cuts down on ironing.”
Emily nodded solemnly, as if she was the recipient of another heretofore forgotten commandment.
“Me, too?” Jackie demanded, obviously not wanting to be left out of whatever it was that his sister was going to be doing.
“Sure, you, too. Grab a bag, sport,” Zooey encouraged, then picked out one for him to carry that had only a blouse in it. With that, she led the way out of the room, Jack watching every step she took.
When she returned to the living room more than forty minutes later, leaving Emily to revel in her new finery, and having put Jackie down for a quick nap, Zooey really didn’t expect to find Jack still in the house, much less in the living room, where she’d left him.
It was getting late and she was going to have to see about throwing together some kind of dinner for herself and the kids. Or at least for the kids. To a great extent, her appetite had seemed to evaporate.
Her lips pulled into a tight smile. “You’re still here.”
Jack shoved his hands into his pockets. He was actually supposed to be leaving. But a general reluctance to begin that phase of the evening held him in place. “Yes.”
Zooey paused and quietly studied him for a long moment. “Cold feet?” she guessed.
He didn’t care for that assessment. Especially since it was so close to the truth. “What makes you say that?”
She forced herself to bank down her attraction to him and just think of Jack Lever as someone she was friendly with. Someone who looked a little lost right now.
“By my calculation, Rebecca is the first woman you’ve gone out with since you lost your wife.”
Her assessment was too close for his comfort. He found himself wishing that he hadn’t allowed Bo to catch him at a weak moment and talk him into this date.
“Very observant. Maybe you should be a private investigator.”
Zooey kept her face as expressionless as his. “Maybe.” She began to head for the kitchen, then stopped and turned toward him again. God, but he looked ill at ease. It took some of the edge off this strange, hurt feeling that kept assaulting her. “Would you like some advice?”
Knowing that he might not like what she had to say, he still said, “All right,” because he was curious.
“Just be yourself and everything will be fine.” It was the gold standard, given to everyone who had ever faced a “first date.” She had no idea why she was saying that to him, except that Jack did look uncomfortable and she had this damn capacity for empathy. There were times, such as now, when that capacity seemed to be at cross-purposes with what she would have liked to be happening.
He laughed shortly, shaking his head. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
He turned to leave, and she called after him, “Your collar’s up.”
Jack stopped and glanced at her over his shoulder. Lost in thought, all he’d heard was the sound of her voice, not the words.
“What?”
Rather than repeat herself, Zooey crossed to him and took care of the problem herself, carefully smoothing down the upturned corner of his collar.
That brought her up close and personal to him. So close that she could feel his breath on her face. Could feel her pulse quickening from the contact.
Zooey meant to drop her hand to her side, but somehow, she couldn’t quite seem to make herself do it. Everything around her seemed to stand still. It was like being in a living photograph, where the moment was forever frozen in time.
His eyes were on hers, holding her in place.
And then his lips were on hers, and everything inside of her sighed, then exploded.
Except that it was more. Much more. More intense. More everything.
The hand that had refused to leave his collar now slipped along the back of his neck, joined there by her other hand.
Zooey leaned into the kiss and was thrilled to feel Jack’s palms moving along her spine. Drawing her to him. Her heart began to pound. Hard.
She felt the outline of his body against hers.
Her head began to swirl as the kiss deepened, growing until it blotted out everything else in the room. All thought, all time. Everything.
Zooey gave herself up to it, knowing she’d never felt anything close to the reaction she was having to Jack right this moment.
He had no idea what came over him.
One minute he was wrestling with his thoughts, with the stirrings he felt inside of him, trying to distance himself from everything. And the next moment, there was no distance at all. At least, not between him and this woman who somehow kept infiltrating his days, his life, his nervous system.
Jack gave in to the overwhelming curiosity that had dogged him even before he took her into his home. He had wondered what her lips would taste like ever since the day he’d watched them curve into a wide smile across the coffee shop counter.
They tasted the way he’d imagined—and felt soft, silky. They filled his senses, enflamed his blood.
He shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be giving in to curiosity and to desire and kissing his children’s nanny. He was just minutes away from going out with another woman. Of course, the only reason he was going out with Rebecca Peters was so that he wouldn’t be tempted to do exactly what he was doing right now….
“Daddy, are you kissing Zooey?”
The small, curious voice came out of nowhere and had them springing apart as if they’d been struck by lightening.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Zooey taking in several deep breaths. This kiss had left her just as breathless as it had him, he realized. There was a certain amount of satisfaction in that, but he was going to have to savor it some other time.
There was damage control to see to.
“Um, no. I’m not. I wasn’t.” Why was it that when he was in court, he could withstand the onslaught of even the most ruthless, well-seasoned lawyer, but the innocent question of a wisp of a girl could rattle him to his very bones? “Zooey had something in her eye and I was just trying to help get it out.”
The expression on Emily’s face told Jack his daughter knew when she was being lied to. Her next words confirmed it.
“Daddies aren’t supposed to fib, Daddy. You were kissing Zooey.”
It was time to jump into the fray and save his butt, Zooey thought.
She put her hand on Emily’s shoulder. The little girl looked up at her. “I was feeling sad, honey, and your daddy was just trying to make me feel better. You know, the way I kiss your hurt when you get one.”
Emily’s delicate eyebrows drew together in a perplexed blond line. “Why were you sad, Zooey?”
“Zooey no sad,” Jackie declared, making his entrance by pushing his sister out of the way and rushing into the room.
And baby makes four, Zooey thought. Nap time had obviously been terminated. Jackie had more energy than any three children his age. If there was only some way to harness it.
Emily was still looking at her, waiting for an answer.
Zooey’s mind raced, searching for something plausible to tell the little girl. And then she looked at the dress Emily was wearing. It was one they had picked out today.
“Because I didn’t have time to get a whole bunch of pretty dresses, like you did.”
Emily took her hand and wrapped her small fingers around it in a mute sign of comfort and camaraderie. “Next time,” she promised solemnly.
Damn, how did some kids get to be so wonderful? Zooey could feel her heart overflowing with love. She wondered if Jack knew how very lucky he was. If she ever had a daughter, she hoped the girl would be half as sweet and generous as Emily was.
Using a laugh to cover the sudden desire to cry, Zooey hugged Emily to her. “Next time,” she agreed.
Shaken to his roots by being caught in a compromising situation by his seven-year-old daughter, Jack restlessly ran a hand through his hair. That had been close. What if he’d allowed his control to slip even further? What if Emily had walked in on them not just kissing but— He couldn’t allow his mind to go that route.
The way he saw it, he needed to go out with Rebecca more than he’d thought. Something had to cool his jets. Otherwise…
He didn’t want to think about otherwise. There were too many consequences if he went down that path.
He cleared his throat. When Zooey looked in his direction, he murmured, “I’d better be going.”
She was still on her knees, hugging Emily.
“Yes, you’d better go.” On a scale of one to ten, there was a minus-two level of enthusiasm in her voice. And then she forced a smile to her lips as she rose to her feet. “We’ll keep a candle burning in the window for you,” she joked. She saw Emily raise her head to stare at her, a quizzical expression on her face. “So you find your way home,” Zooey concluded.
That’s just the trouble. I know my way home. All too well. “Thanks,” he said without emotion. And then he looked at his children, clustered around Zooey as if she were the center of their life.
She’s just the nanny, nothing more, he insisted silently. “You two be good and listen to Zooey.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Emily said dutifully. Jackie made some kind of animal noise. Jack had no time to press for more of an answer; he was already late.
Emily turned away from the door the moment her father closed it and looked at Zooey. “Is Daddy going to get lost?” she asked.
Zooey knew she’d picked up on the candle in the window reference. Nothing got by this girl, she thought. “Let’s hope not, Emily. Let’s hope not.” Then she took her hand. “C’mon, you can help me whip up something for dinner.”
“Can we have mashed potatoes?” Emily asked.
“Just mashed potatoes?” Her brother Ethan had had an attachment to peas when he was a little boy. Just peas. Platefuls of peas for lunch and dinner. The phase had lasted almost four months.
“Gravy?” Emily added hopefully.
“Mashed potatoes and gravy it is,” Zooey agreed. Luckily, she’d bought a bag of potatoes at the grocery store the other day.
Emily smiled broadly. She was a very picky eater, but the little girl loved mashed potatoes. Whatever worked, Zooey thought, desperately trying not to think about Jack and the woman three doors down.
What she had was a crush, Zooey insisted, nothing more. Women got them all the time and they usually lasted about as long as they sounded they would. Ten minutes. Twenty, tops. She’d be over him by morning.
But the imprint on her lips was not going to fade away by morning, she feared. Neither would the imprint on her soul.
It would if she ignored it, Zooey promised herself.
>
Just as Emily began to walk into the kitchen, she turned on her heel and beckoned for Zooey to bend down. When she did, Emily threw her arms around her and hugged her. Hard.
“Not that I didn’t like that, Emily, but what’s it for?” she asked once Emily’s little arms had slipped from about her neck.
“You looked like you were being sad again,” Emily told her simply.
That’s because I was, Zooey thought. “I’m going to work on being happy,” she vowed. And then she put her arm around Zooey’s shoulders. “Unless, of course, I want another hug from you.”
“You can have one, they’re free,” Emily assured her. And then the little girl looked at her for a long moment, as if she was trying to work something out in her head. “Zooey?”
“Yes?”
“Will you be my mommy?”
If she’d been eating or drinking anything at the moment, Zooey felt certain she would have begun to choke.
“Mommy, Mommy,” Jackie repeated in a singsong voice. Zooey vaguely realized that the little boy had never called anyone by that name.
Mostly, though, she was stunned by Emily’s question. That made twice in one week that she’d found herself at a loss for words.
She hoped this wouldn’t get to be a habit.
Chapter Eight
When she could finally move her lips and engage part of her brain, Zooey asked the little girl, “What did you say?”
Emily repeated, “Will you be my mommy?” in the same tone of voice she’d used the first time.
Listening closer, Zooey realized that what Emily had said wasn’t a request. She wasn’t asking her to be her mother. It was a question regarding the chain of events that might take place, as in “Will you be my teacher next year?”
Still, where had this come from?
“Why would you ask me that, Emily?” she inquired softly, not wanting Emily to think she was upset or rattled by the question.
It was apparently all very logical to her. “Because Daddy was kissing you. And you were kissing Daddy.”
Mother in Training Page 8
