Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
She waves a breezy hand. “It’s fine. I’m not worried about it. I’ll get clean, one way or another.”
“No, really,” I insist. “Let me know if it’s uncomfortable, and I’ll get it fixed. It’s no problem.”
She nods. “Okay, I will. Thanks.”
“Okay, and…what else?” I mutter, glancing around. “There should be milk and a few other things to drink in the fridge, but if you want to add anything to the grocery order for Thursday, let me know.”
“You don’t have to cover my groceries, Dean,” she says gently. “That’s not part of our contract. But I will probably have a list of things to get for the girls. Once I know them a little better. Can I get that to you tomorrow afternoon, maybe?”
“Yeah, sure, that would be perfect,” I say, backing toward the door. “So, I’ll see you at seven tomorrow? When the girls go back to school, they have to be out the door by eight, so we usually start morning procedures by seven. I thought it would be a good idea to get into the habit of getting up earlier before school starts again next week.”
“Sounds good,” she says. “And what time do you leave?”
“I usually head out around eight, too. Practice doesn’t start until ten, but I like to do weights and cardio before.” I flash her a smile as I reach for the door. “We old fogeys have to work harder to get limbered up for practice than the rookies. I’m usually home by three-thirty or four, so I can be in charge of snack time, if you want.”
She shakes her head. “No, that’s fine. I can handle snack time. That would be a good routine for me to get into, a reminder to have a snack myself. I’m still working to get back to my fighting weight after the accident.”
“Okay, good. Sounds like a plan,” I say, biting back any commentary on her weight. Or her body. Or how sexy she is at any size.
So far, this “forgetting we ever touched” thing is going great…
Just great.
“Then, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I start through the door only to wince and turn back as I remember one last thing. “I almost forgot, there’s a green binder on top of the microwave. It has more about the girls’ schedule, lists of likes and dislikes, all the emergency numbers for the doctor, the dentist, and the Voodoo admin office, in case you need to reach me while I’m on the ice. Everything like that. You’ll probably want to get those programmed into your phone, just in case.”
She shoots me a thumbs-up. “Sounds good. I’ll get that done tonight and follow up in the morning if I have any questions.”
“Great,” I say, lifting a hand. “See you then. Have a good rest of your day.”
“You, too,” she says, waving as I shut the door.
And it’s…fine.
Awkward, but fine.
As I head through the garage, I will the tension from my jaw. My throat. My shoulders. There’s no reason to be stressed. No, I didn’t expect to be spending any part of today fighting the chemistry with my new nanny, but Clover and I are both adults.
We can get through this for the good of the girls. And Clover. And myself.
God knows I need help, a fact proven when I arrive back at the house to find Ava up from her story time rest and rooting around in the pantry for the chocolate chip cookies I’ve done my best to hide.
Stopping in the doorway to the kitchen, I clear my throat loud enough to get her attention. She spins from the pantry with wide eyes, still crouched on the ground with her hands curled at her chest.
Despite myself, I laugh. “You look like a raccoon who got caught digging in the garbage.”
Her lips curve in a tentative smile. “I wouldn’t dig in the garbage, Daddy. I would dig in the pantry, though, because that’s where we keep the food.”
I shoot her a harder look. “You just ate an enormous lunch. And you’re supposed to be having rest and story time. I was literally gone five minutes, girl. How did you get down here and into trouble so fast?”
“Am I in trouble?” Her forehead furrows as her smile fades. “I just really like those cookies so much.”
“Those cookies have nuts in them,” I remind her. “And nuts make you break out in a rash if you have too many, remember? Those cookies are once-a-week cookies, and you already had pancakes this morning. So, no more sweets today, anyway, okay? Too much sugar is bad for you.”
“Grammy let us have sugar twice a day sometimes,” she mutters beneath her breath.
“Yeah, well, Grammy doesn’t always make the healthiest choices,” I mutter back, thinking of my mother’s apparently lengthy love affair with cocaine and my father’s bald head. That’s a story I really wish she’d kept to herself. “And whether today is a cookie snack day or not, you should be upstairs having rest time. Getting up and coming down to raid the pantry while you know I’m outside is sneaky, Ava. And dishonest. It’s like telling a lie.”