“If I had a sword, I might be tempted to use it.” It was a warning. Holding his arms out at his sides, Jack turned around full circle until he was facing her again. Well, at least she wasn’t laughing, he consoled himself. But she had to see how absurd he looked in this outfit. “Okay, say it.”
Zooey looked at him, puzzled. “Say what?” Uncle? Okay, I say uncle, or whatever it is someone says when they surrender.
Because she did. She surrendered. Completely and utterly. She’d always thought that Jack was good-looking in a dark, distinguished sort of way, but seeing him like this made her kneecaps melt, along with most of the rest of her.
Did he have to pull the words from her mouth? he wondered in exasperation. “That I look like an idiot.”
That was the very last thought that would have passed through her mind. Very slowly, never taking her eyes off him, she moved her head from side to side. “Not any idiot I know.”
“But an idiot,” he pressed.
She was about to make a very vocal denial of that completely unmerited description. He looked gorgeous, not idiotic, but how did she phrase that without sounding as if she was willing to jump into bed with him? He was far too straitlaced to be on the receiving end of that kind of sentiment.
Even if it did vibrate in every vein in her body.
But she was mercifully spared from making any kind of a reply because, just then, Emily came running in in her nightgown. The look on her very serious young face fairly shouted that Jackie had done something unforgivable to her. Again.
However, whatever complaint was hot on her tongue vanished as she came to a skidding halt just inside the study, where she had tracked down both adults in the house.
Her eyes were wide as she looked up at her father. Recognition mingled with confusion, making her entirely uncertain. “Daddy?”
“Yes, it’s me.” Jack bit off the curse that hovered on his tongue, not wanting to subject Emily to the less than flattering thoughts that were now thriving inside his head. He’d begun to pull off the hat and wig when the awestruck look on Emily’s face froze his hand in midmotion.
She looked every bit the little girl who had inadvertently stumbled into Neverland, only to find a dashing pirate in place of the malevolent Captain Hook. “Daddy, you look beautiful,” she cried.
Zooey grinned, relieved that the pressure was off her. “Out of the mouths of babes.” Her comment earned her a slightly confused look from Jack. Their eyes met and held for a long, pregnant moment. Zooey could have sworn the temperature in the room went up a whole ten degrees. She turned her attention to Emily, not because she was the girl’s nanny, but because right now it was easier to look at her than at Jack. “Your daddy’s going to be Jack Sparrow.”
Emily seemed to accept the explanation, but it only raised another question for him. “And who the hel—heck is Jack Sparrow?”
You, Zooey thought. “He’s a magical pirate in Pirates of the Caribbean,” she explained.
The reference was vaguely familiar, but raised still more questions. Nothing, it seemed, was straightforward when it came to the children’s nanny. “The Disney ride?”
“The movie,” she corrected. “Johnny Depp played him.” Maybe that would do it for him, Zooey thought. But judging from Jack’s expression, very little had been cleared up. The man probably didn’t watch movies, she thought. Something else to address. Eventually.
Zooey turned toward Emily. Time to bring in the big guns, she thought. “Your daddy doesn’t think this is a good costume for him. He doesn’t want to wear it.”
Emily reacted just as she’d hoped the little girl would. “Oh please, Daddy, please wear it. You’re beautiful,” she repeated.
Zooey bent down to her level. “Yes, he is, isn’t he?” And then she straightened again, confident that the battle of the pirate costume had gone her way. “Go on up back to bed, Emily,” she instructed. “I’ll be there in a few minutes to tuck you in again.”
Forgetting why she’d come down in the first place, still looking at her father, Emily nodded, then hurried out of the room.
Jack looked at Zooey as Emily disappeared down the hall. She couldn’t begin to read his expression. “You don’t play fair.”
Zooey relaxed and grinned. She’d won the battle. “I never claimed I did. You do look very good, you know.” And then a thought struck her and she sobered just a shade. “I’m sure Rebecca will think so.”
“Rebecca?” he repeated, puzzled. “How is she going to see me?” He had no intention of leaving the premises in this outfit, even if the house caught on fire. He’d just resign himself to dying in the blaze.
“I invited her to the party.” It hadn’t been easy, but Rebecca did live only three doors down. Inviting everyone else on the block and omitting her would have made her seem petty and jealous.
Jack stared at her. “But she doesn’t have any children.”
Which was a technicality Zooey had almost given in to. But then, she was also inviting Bo and Carly to the party, and neither of them had children, either.
“No, but she is a neighbor and the party is for the adults in the neighborhood as well as the children.” Zooey smiled up at him. “I thought that maybe Emily wasn’t the only one who needed help with social skills.”
She’d gone too far again. “You’re their nanny, not mine.”
His dark tone did not succeed in scaring her off. “Consider it a bonus.”
Maybe being blunt was the only thing she’d understand, the only way to make her retreat. “I consider it irritating.”
She paused for a moment, debating backing off. But that went against her grain. So, for the second time within the space of a few minutes, she stood up to him.
“You’re within your rights to—”
Jack closed his eyes for a second, gathering strength and being grateful that he wasn’t facing her in a courtroom. Because he’d be sorely tempted to wring her neck.
“Fire you—yes, I know.” He opened his eyes again and gave her a meaningful look. “I just might take you up on that someday.”
Her expression never changed. “I know.”
“And still you continue.” She was either very dumb or a hell of a poker player. He had a hunch it was the latter.
To her, it was a simple matter. “Have to be true to my nature.”
“Of being a pest?” he demanded.
Zooey never blinked an eye. “Of doing what I think needs doing.”
The woman was nothing short of infuriating, eating up his entire supply of patience.
Damn, but he wanted to kiss her.
To kiss her and shut that mouth of hers with his own so that he could just lose himself in her.
What the hell was the matter with him? This wasn’t like him. The hat and wig were probably cutting off his circulation, he thought darkly.
That didn’t change the fact that he wanted Zooey. That he wanted to make love with her.
He needed space. Needed to open a window and air out her scent, which was driving him crazy. It was raining outside, but the damp, dank breeze would be welcomed right about now.
“You promised to tuck Emily in.”
“I know.”
“I think you’d better go do that,” he told her, his voice strained.
Go, leave. Before I do something stupid, Zooey, he pleaded silently.
Zooey smiled serenely at him, as if she’d heard his thoughts.
“On my way,” she responded.
She left the room and Jack immediately crossed to the window, opening it and trying to erase her presence.
Chapter Eleven
Emily burst into Jack’s study the following Saturday morning. “Daddy, Daddy, we’re going shopping for stuff. You wanna come with us?” she asked him excitedly as his door banged open.
Jack winced inwardly, anticipating the hole in the wall that the doorknob probably made. He was going to have to start locking his door, he decided as he set down the brief he was reviewing. “Now why woul
d I want to do that?”
“Because it’s for the party. We’re going to the supermarket!” she announced, emphasizing super because today that seemed to her like a particularly funny thing to call the grocery story.
Having raced into the room like gangbusters, Emily was now tugging on his arm with all her less than considerable might, trying to get him to stand up.
His daughter seemed a lot happier these days, Jack mused. A lot more lively. In true you-never-know-what-you’re-missing-until-it’s-gone fashion, he found himself missing the quieter Emily. But he knew that this change was actually for the best as far as the little girl was concerned.
Looking over her head, he saw Zooey standing in the doorway, a firm grip locked around Jackie’s hand. For once, it appeared as if this invasion was not of her making.
“We have to go, Emily. Your daddy’s busy,” Zooey told her kindly.
“No, I’m not.”
He could see that his response completely floored Zooey. In what was undoubtedly an unguarded moment, surprise registered on her face. Though he knew it was probably childish, he felt a small sense of accomplishment for being able to get to her. It seemed only fair, seeing as how the woman kept getting to him.
“You’re not?” She was looking at the papers in his hand.
“Less than usual,” he acknowledged.
Letting Jackie into the room ahead of her, Zooey crossed to Jack’s desk. The same desk Jackie was attempting to scale. She caught the little boy up in her arms without missing a beat and set him down again, blocking his access.
She looked at Jack uncertainly, wondering what had brought this sudden change. “And you’re willing to come to the supermarket with us?”
Emily was standing next to him, closer than a shadow. He passed his hand over her silky hair and she looked up at him, beaming. Emily, like her brother, had been unplanned. But he was beginning to understand why people wanted children.
“Might be interesting.”
“Might be,” Zooey echoed, still a little stunned. And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she asked, “Are they putting something extra into your coffee these days?”
He was toying with her, he realized. And enjoying it. “Can’t a man want to go with his family to the grocery store without being held suspect?”
With his family.
Had he just lumped her into the group by accident, or by design? Zooey felt her pulse accelerating.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, Zooey. You don’t want to go on a toboggan ride and find out there’s no snow on the hill.
“Absolutely,” she answered. Getting Jack to come along would have been her idea, except that she remembered what today was. And where he was going to be in a few hours. And with whom. “But I thought you might be wanting to get ready.”
She couldn’t mean for the party. That was tomorrow. Which left him fresh out of guesses. “For?’
Why was he making her say it? He couldn’t possibly be that absentminded. Which only meant that he was having fun at her expense. And yet he didn’t seem like the type. He wasn’t cruel, just removed.
“Your date with Rebecca,” Zooey finally said, once again taking Jackie away from a source of temptation—this time the coffee table. It had a glass top and she could almost see the thoughts going through the two-year-old’s head. “It is today, isn’t it?”
He’d canceled his date several days ago. It didn’t seem fair to him to take up Rebecca’s time when his head was elsewhere and his heart just wasn’t in it. But he’d had no intention of making a major announcement about his change of plans. “It was.”
“Who’s Rebecca?” Emily asked, looking from her father to Zooey.
“Was?” Zooey echoed. Don’t start celebrating, he’s probably just rescheduling, that’s all. Still, even though she managed to keep the smile off her face, she couldn’t quite manage to keep it out of her voice. “What happened?”
He was not about to go into detail, especially not around his children. “Can we talk about this later?” This time he was the one who took Jackie down from the sofa, where the child was attempting to build up momentum bouncing up and down on the cushions.
“Who’s Rebecca?” Emily asked again, a little more forcefully.
“Just a lady in the neighborhood,” Zooey told her. “She lives three doors down, close to Olivia. She’ll be at the party.”
Planting his son on the floor, Jack went to retrieve his coat. “I wouldn’t count on it.” He tossed the comment over his shoulder on the way.
Zooey caught Jackie’s hand and drew the boy out of the room, following Jack. Emily came skipping along behind.
Now he’d done it, Zooey thought. The man had stirred up her curiosity until it was practically at the explosion level—and then just walked out. And he knew it. He’d been around her long enough to know that she was insatiably curious.
How could he do that to her?
But she knew that he wasn’t about to discuss the matter around Emily and Jackie. She was just going to have to contain herself until she got him alone.
The next few hours, she thought, were going to be a mixture of ecstasy and agony.
He felt drained.
But oddly satisfied.
Pulling into his driveway, Jack realized that he was smiling to himself. He’d actually enjoyed the exhausting afternoon. Looking back, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been inside a supermarket. Foraging for groceries had never really numbered among his required tasks.
The last time he’d gone questing for food without intentionally winding up with a menu propped in front of him had been back in college. Before then, in his mother’s house, there had been housekeepers to take care of that kind of thing. And afterward, there’d been Patricia. Grocery shopping was just something she took care of without involving him. After Patricia had died, the nannies he’d hired had taken care of stocking the refrigerator and the pantry.
This afternoon, with his squeaking grocery cart and his marauding children, had been nothing short of a near-life-altering experience.
He glanced at Zooey as he turned off the ignition. The music coming from the radio died down. His kids didn’t. It seemed to him that they had been going nonstop since they left the house.
Unbuckling his seat belt, he got out of the car and went to open the trunk. He liked the sound of Zooey’s laugh, he decided as he picked up four bags and carted them into the house. Jack made his way to the kitchen, where he deposited the bags on the table.
Behind him, Emily and Jackie were bringing up the rear, each proudly carrying a small plastic bag. Zooey had given Jackie the sack with the Halloween napkins. Emily had been awarded the colorful paper cups and plates to take in.
Looking at them now, he caught himself thinking that it felt very much like a family effort.
Or what a family effort would have felt like if he’d been familiar with such a thing, he amended. When Patricia was still alive, they’d never done anything as a family unit. She’d taken care of the kids, and on those rare occasions when he had some free time available, he and Patricia would get together to do something. It never extended beyond that, never included the children.
He’d been very close to being a stranger to his own children when Patricia died, he thought. The fault was his, he knew, but it didn’t change the facts.
Today had been different.
What would it be like, he wondered as he went back to the car to retrieve the rest of the bags, if Zooey really was part of the family? If she was more than just the kids’ nanny?
She was more than just the nanny, he reminded himself. Because they hadn’t been a family until she’d come along. Just a man with two children he’d inherited from his late wife. It was Zooey who’d orchestrated things to get him closer to the kids. Pulling him into it, something that Patricia had never managed to accomplish. If that had ever been her goal.
Looking back now, he wasn’t sure. He’d married Patricia with the greatest of hopes that he’d
found someone who could finally make him feel. But ultimately, that wasn’t enough, and somehow, somewhere down the line, those feelings he’d thought he had just seemed to vanish. Fading slowly until he gradually became aware of the fact that they weren’t there at all.
That maybe he had just imagined them.
But now—now they seemed to be back. Stronger than they had ever been before.
And, ironically, he needed to bank them down. Because whatever it was he was feeling couldn’t be allowed to go any further. Couldn’t be allowed to thrive and grow. For so many reasons.
He’d never liked complications, and at the very least, getting involved with Zooey promised a whole host of complications.
Walking in with the last four grocery bags, he deposited them on the table. Miraculously, Zooey had unpacked all the others and put the contents away, except for one. He watched her now as she placed four cans of pumpkin pie mix on the counter, right beside the stack of unbaked pie crusts.
“You’re really going to bake all those pies?” he asked skeptically.
“Sure. And I’m going to have help, aren’t I?” Her question was addressed to Emily and Jackie, who both nodded vigorously.
“Yes!” Emily cried.
“Yes!” Jackie echoed with deafening enthusiasm.
“Well, that should set you back a few hours,” Jack commented with a laugh. In his opinion, Zooey was undertaking a monumental task. “‘You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din.’”
She began to take bowls out of the cupboards below the counter. “Rudyard Kipling notwithstanding, it will go very smoothly.” Measuring cups came out of another cupboard. Mixing spoons emerged from a drawer in the corner. “The key to getting things done when you have children around is utilizing them, not trying to get them to stay out of your way.”
“If you say so.”
Zooey grinned. “You’re welcome to pitch in if you like.”
He looked at the items she was setting out. The closest he ever came to cooking was eating. He knew nothing about what it took to transform raw goods into edible offerings. “I thought I already had, by agreeing to wear that ridiculous costume.”
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