“Thank you.” Malory knew the compliment was meant for her as the nanny. “She’s a wonderful little girl.”
“Well...” The woman pulled a small digital camera out of her pocket. “Maybe I could take a picture of you, Katy?”
Katy looked at the camera dubiously and took a step back.
“After she takes the picture of you in your pretty dress, you can look at it, too,” Malory said quietly. “Does that sound nice?”
Katy stared up at the camera, eyes wide and expression solemn. The woman snapped a photo, then studied its preview.
“Can we try a smile?” she asked.
Katy shook her head, but she did lean forward to look at the picture when the woman held it out for her to see.
“I think that’s the best you’re going to get under the circumstances,” Malory said. “If you need a photo, maybe we can try to get one and email it to you later on.”
“Sure, that would be fine,” the woman replied. “It was very nice to meet all of you, and, Mr. Cruise, I’ll be in touch.”
Mike walked her to the door, and Malory stifled a sigh. It was all so matter-of-fact, this finding a home for a little girl. What would the potential families think of that solemn picture? Would they be able to see her spunk and intelligence? Would they see her sweetness? It wasn’t fair that this child would be judged so quickly and likely passed over multiple times because she was past a certain age.
“Nanny Mal?” Katy whispered.
“Yes, sweetie?”
“I don’t like her.”
Malory sank down into a kitchen chair and pulled the little girl up onto her knees.
“You don’t need to worry. Everything is fine, sweetie.”
Katy laid her flaxen head against Malory’s chest, and she whispered, “I’ll be good. Promise.”
Tears misted Malory’s eyes, and she rested her cheek against Katy’s silky hair. How much did this child understand?
“You are a very good girl,” she reassured her. “A very, very good girl.”
Mike came back into the kitchen, and when he saw them, he stopped short. “Is everything okay?” he asked.
“I don’t like the lady,” Katy repeated.
“No?” Mike grinned mischievously. “Well, she’s gone now, so you don’t have to worry. Do you like cookies?”
“Yes!” Katy sat upright and squirmed down from Malory’s lap. “I like cookies. I do. I like them.”
Mike chuckled and turned toward the kitchen cupboards. She watched him, the way his muscles flexed as he reached into a top cupboard, the warm glint in his eye as he shook the box of chocolate-chip cookies for Katy to see. He glanced back at Malory.
“What about you, Nanny Mal?” he asked. “Can I interest you in some cookies, too?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
Whether he saw it or not, he was good with kids. More specifically, he was good with Katy, and that was what mattered most. He pulled out a plate and dropped two cookies onto it, then offered it to Katy. Katy grabbed the cookies, leaving the plate in Mike’s hand.
“Mike,” Malory said as Mike put a few more cookies onto the plate. “Are you sure about this?”
He glanced back and shrugged. “I’m supposed to be.”
He didn’t say anything else but put the plate down on the counter between them, and they both took a cookie. Sometimes the most certainty a person could have was a chocolate-chip cookie.
Chapter Seven
That evening, Mike stood at the back door, leaning against the door frame as he watched the lengthening shadows in the backyard. The sun was low, the last of its rays no longer reaching the ground. Pink and red tinged the sky, and the birds twittered their last calls.
It had been a tiring day. After the adoption agent left, he had gone to work for an extra shift to fill in for an officer who was recovering after getting his tonsils out. Now he was back again, his uniform rumpled from a shift on patrol in the cruiser, his collar open. The house was silent—the kind of silence he was used to from before Katy’s arrival. Except now it felt strange, somehow.
He glanced at his watch. It was past nine o’clock, so Katy would already be asleep. At first he’d assumed that Malory had gone to bed, too, but now as he stood in the doorway, the evening air cooling his skin, he saw her.
Malory sat with her back to the house, her legs stretched in front of her on the grass, leaning back on her arms. Her hair fell back, away from her face and down her spine. Her face was tipped upward, and she was oblivious to his presence.
I should go in and give her some time to herself, he thought, but something held him back. Maybe it was the way the breeze shifted her hair or the way she moved one foot over the top of the other. She was beautiful—not that she seemed to recognize her own allure. She looked as though her thoughts were miles away, and he wondered what was running through her mind.
That’s enough, he told himself more firmly, and as he went to go in, a floorboard creaked and Malory turned, sitting up straighter, her posture more guarded.
“Hi,” she said. “I didn’t see you there.”
Mike paused and rubbed a hand over his short hair. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“It’s no intrusion.” She smiled. “I’ve got the baby monitor so I can listen for Katy, but other than that, I’m just enjoying the evening. Long day?”
Mike came across the grass toward her, then sank down onto his haunches. “Glad to be home. I can say that much.”
She patted the lawn next to her. “Have a seat. I won’t bite.”
He took her up on it. The soft swell of her belly pressed against her white cotton blouse, and she idly rubbed one hand over it. A week before, he hadn’t been able to even recognize that she was pregnant, but now he felt as if it was all he could see.
So much for giving her space.
“What do you think about when you watch sunsets?” Malory asked.
“I don’t know.” Mike shrugged. “It makes me feel small, I guess. Especially here in Montana, where the sky is so big.”
“Hmm.” She nodded, and the sound she made was soft and low.
“What about you?” he asked.
“I’m hoping that I’m having a girl,” she said, then laughed self-consciously.
“Why’s that?” he asked. “Are they easier?”
“Probably not,” she admitted. “But I was the only child of a single mom, and I have a feeling I’d do better with a girl. I’d understand her better. The thought of having a boy is scary.”
“Hmm.” He wasn’t sure what she wanted to hear, exactly. “You’re really good with Katy. You’ll be a good mom.”
“Thanks.”
“So...” He wasn’t sure if he was overstepping here, but he was curious. “How will you do this?”
Malory didn’t look offended. “I’ve given it some thought. If I could find a position where the parent didn’t mind me caring for my baby at the same time as caring for the other child, it would be a good solution. It could even be beneficial for an only child having a baby around for socializing and learning to share.”
“That sounds...perfect.” For a moment he’d had an image in his mind of Malory staying and her tiny baby joining the household.
“Do you think so?” she asked uncertainly. “Well, hopefully I can find someone else who does, too.”
“What if you stayed here?” he asked.
“But Katy isn’t staying,” she said softly.
“There is always the possibility that they won’t find a home for her right away,” he said. “I’ll need help until then.”
“And I’ll stay until she goes.”
He was relieved to hear her say that, and he liked the thought of keeping things just like this for a while. If Malory had her baby, he could find a substitute nanny for a few weeks until Malory was ready to come back to work—
His mind was already working through the logistics. If they couldn’t find a better family, would it be so terrible to keep things just li
ke this?
Malory was quiet for a moment. Then she whispered, “I’m afraid of getting attached, you know.”
So was he, but he wasn’t thinking too far into the future. He just didn’t want to let this end just yet. A wisp of her hair fluttered free and fell in front of her eyes. He moved it back, the silky strands falling over his finger. Yeah, he was getting attached.
“Oh!” She looked down at her stomach, and the moment disappeared. “I think I felt a kick.”
“Really?”
“Do you want to feel?”
He paused for a moment, uncertain what to say. She was his employee, after all, but some lines were blurring. Before he could stop her, Malory took his hand and placed it lightly on her belly. He felt nothing but her gentle warmth under his palm and her smooth, cool fingers on top of his. Her face was close to his, her long lashes nearly brushing her cheeks as she looked down at his broad tanned hand on her soft white shirt. She smelled of floral shampoo, mingling with the lilac bushes, making him wish he could move in closer and inhale the scent of her.
“Oh, that was a big one. Did you feel it?” she asked with a low laugh, seemingly unaware of just how close he was to her.
“No.” He cleared his throat, and while he knew he should pull back, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.
She looked up at him then, and he slid his hand off her belly, away from her slender, cool fingers, but his eyes stayed fixed to her creamy complexion in the moonlight.
“It might be too early to feel it on the outside,” she said apologetically.
They fell into silence. If he were honest with himself, he’d known the minute he saw her that it would be complicated.
“I was hoping for an older nanny, you know,” he admitted.
“Older?” she asked. “Do you think I’m not experienced enough?”
“Not that, but I wouldn’t be sitting out here with a sixty-year-old knitter, would I?”
She laughed. “You never know.”
“Oh, I do.” He wasn’t sitting out here for the company. He was well used to spending his evenings alone, even enjoyed it. A Vin Diesel movie or a trip to the gym could hurry an evening right along. Instead, he was sitting out here on the lush green grass, his arm brushing the arm of a beautiful woman who made him think about everything but knitting.
Stars twinkled through the darkness, and Malory shivered. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to put an arm around those slender shoulders and pull her against him. He wanted to slide his hand onto her belly again and feel the movement inside her, and he wanted to dip his head down and catch her lips with his—
But he knew better.
“It’s getting chilly,” he said instead, and he pushed himself to his feet and held out a hand to her. “Ready to head in?”
“I think so,” she agreed, accepting his help. He pulled her to her feet, but once she was up, she twisted her hand from his grip, and the few inches between them suddenly felt like too much.
They crossed the lawn, her sandals, held by the straps, swinging at her side. They walked up the few steps to the back door, and she hesitated. He stopped, his hand on the knob.
“Mike?” she asked, and they paused there in the cool evening.
“Hmm?” He looked down into her eyes, the golden light from the window reflected in them. His gaze moved to her pink lips, parted ever so slightly, then back to those deep brown eyes...
“Are you hungry, too?” she asked. “Because I’m famished, and I’m not sure if it’s just me.”
Mike burst out laughing and shook his head. He reached out and opened the door, the warmth from inside flooding out to meet them.
“No,” he admitted. “Not really. But I make a great sandwich. Come on. Let’s feed you.”
He was more attracted to her than he’d cared to admit before, and now that he knew it, he’d have to be a whole lot more careful. She was not only his employee, but she was also pregnant and vulnerable. There was no way he was going to be the guy who took advantage of her when she needed support the most.
* * *
AS THEY CAME inside the kitchen, Malory let out a little sigh. Had she wanted him to kiss her? She wasn’t even sure right now. Of course, wanting him to kiss her and being willing to be kissed—by anyone—were two different things, and she was trying very hard to keep her life together and uncomplicated. A baby was complication enough.
“What kind of sandwich do you want?” Mike asked, opening the fridge. “We’ve got ham, roast beef or salami. Or if you’re really patient, I can boil a couple of eggs and make egg salad—”
“Oh, I can make it myself,” she said.
“Didn’t say you couldn’t,” he replied. “But it’s my kitchen, so I’ve decided to get all territorial.”
Malory laughed. “Well, if you insist on using that card, then I suppose I’ll have ham and cheese.”
“Good choice.” Mike set to work.
“About that older nanny—” Malory began.
“I was just joking around.” He grabbed a loaf of bread from the counter. “You’re every bit a professional.”
“But would it be more comfortable living with an older woman in the house?” she asked.
Mike paused, then let his gaze meet hers. “Well, I’ll put it this way—she wouldn’t remind me of what I was missing quite so much.”
Malory felt a blush rise in her cheeks. “Not so happy with the single life?”
“I wouldn’t say that, exactly.” He turned back to the sandwich making, and Malory mentally kicked herself for the personal question. Frankly, it didn’t matter if he enjoyed his single status or not—she wasn’t about to help him change it.
“I told you about my mother,” Malory said. “She was always searching for her Mr. Right.”
“Did she ever find him?” Mike asked.
“Not yet,” Malory said. “You never know what the future holds, though. She’s been dating a nice guy for a while.”
“You really resent all those boyfriends coming and going, don’t you?” he asked, bringing the sandwich to her.
“I did for a long time.” She accepted the plate with a smile. “My mom was afraid to be alone. She thought that being single meant that she wasn’t worth anything—no one wanted her.”
“That’s sad.”
“Really sad,” Malory agreed. “I just don’t see it that way. I’d rather be a good mother than in a relationship.”
Her mother had done her best, and Malory was her mother’s biggest champion. But it seemed that all too often, her mother’s boyfriends had sidled their way into being the highest priority, their whims and demands trumping Malory’s needs. She was sure that her mother had never intended for that to happen, but it had.
“I really respect that.” He picked up the bread and clipped the bag shut again. “My parents wouldn’t have won any awards, so when someone puts their child ahead of their own desires—” He cleared his throat. “I guess I’m trying to say that I think you’ll make a good mom.”
“Thanks.” They were silent for a moment. Then Malory picked up her sandwich—ham and cheese on fluffy white bread. His gaze lingered on her while she took a big bite. The tang of mayonnaise and pickles mingled with salty ham, and she sighed happily.
“But what if you didn’t have to choose between being a good mom and having some romance?” Mike broke the quiet. “What would you want then?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, dabbing her lips with a napkin. “I can really only look at what I need right now.”
“Which is?”
“A job. Health insurance. A stable home for my baby once she’s born.” She took another bite and, after she swallowed, added, “And this sandwich—how do you make it so good?”
Mike grinned. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”
“I think sometimes we get afraid of repeating our parents’ mistakes. I know I do,” she said and licked a daub of mayo off her fingertip.
“You don’t seem like the type to
look to a man to complete you,” he said. “I wouldn’t worry too much.”
Her mother had higher ideals, too, right after every breakup. She’d swear off men indefinitely and then meet another one. She’d judged her mother rather harshly when she was younger, but she had more sympathy now.
“It doesn’t take away that tiny nagging worry that I’ll somehow slip down the slope, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” He nodded, his dark gaze turning inward for a moment.
She had a feeling he was thinking of his own family’s slippery slopes. “For the record, you aren’t like your dad, either.”
“I’m not an addict. That’s one point in my favor,” he said bitterly.
“No, but more than that. You were pretty much neglected as a child, but you’re not that kind of guy. With a surprise child in your home, you’ve stepped up. That really says a lot about who you are.”
He met her gaze for a moment, then said, “One day maybe I’ll be able to give it a whirl—being a dad, that is.”
Malory could easily imagine Mike as a father with his gentle strength and infectious grin. The woman who ended up with him would be lucky. She’d have the life that most women only dreamed of—a strong, sexy husband devoted to her and their children. Who didn’t want the white picket fence in a little town called Hope?
“It makes me wonder what my own child will see as my shortcomings,” she said at last. “I’m sure I’ll have a few.”
“Don’t we all.” Mike leaned against the counter and crossed his muscular arms over his chest.
Sitting here in this beautiful kitchen close to a sheriff with a heart of gold, she could understand her mother’s desire for love, at least.
Her mother had wanted that happy home, loving husband and safe place to raise her children, and she’d looked in the only place she’d known to look—with a man. Somehow, in this house that would never be hers, looking into the open face of a man who would also never be hers, she understood that desire to grab what she could.
Except Malory was different from her mother—not better, just different. She understood her mother’s dreams more now that she was about to become a single mother herself, but she also knew what it was like to be the child in that situation. She hadn’t needed a father figure in her life as much as she’d needed her mother’s stability and strength.
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