Ian looked away before he started filling out pet adoption paperwork in his head. Unfortunately, he accidentally locked eyes with Buttercup, who could have been a poster dog for adorable, adoptable homeless animals. Love me, her melting puppy-dog eyes seemed to say.

  He glared at the dog and cut his gaze toward the lane, where the twins were now tag-teaming the turn that was supposed to be Abby’s.

  Ian felt his shoulders go tense. “Is it bad that I let them help each other? Am I doing more unintended harm to Annie’s confidence?”

  Rachel turned toward him, smile fading. “Ian, you’re not harming your children. I hope nothing I’ve said has given you that impression. You’re doing your best and learning new techniques to help your girls thrive. In my book, that makes you a wonderful father.”

  Relief coursed through him along with a warm feeling he’d begun to associate specifically with Rachel. It reminded him of tipping his face toward a sunrise and seeing the sky washed in soft tones of pink on an early morning run. “You really think so?”

  “Of course I do.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it tight.

  Electricity skittered over every inch of his skin. Just as he was wondering if she felt it, too, Rachel let out a breathy gasp and her eyes went liquid for a beat. Ian’s fingertips seemed to move of their own accord, weaving themselves through hers. At the base of Rachel’s willowy neck, he could see the quiver of her pulse, as quick and delicate as the wings of a butterfly. From the way it was jumping, she seemed just as caught up in this moment as he was.

  Somewhere nearby, a bowling ball banged on the floor. Rachel’s hand disentangled itself from his and flew to her heart.

  “That startled me,” she said, and Ian wasn’t sure if she meant the sudden noise or the fact that he’d just held her hand—and she’d let him. Whatever brief intimacy had blossomed between them seemed to slip through his fingers.

  He shoved his hands back inside his pockets. “Me too.”

  He gave her his best attempt at a smile, but she’d already wrapped her arms around herself and turned back toward the children.

  It was for the best, really. He couldn’t screw this up for the girls. Their needs were far more important than his. Ian couldn’t, wouldn’t, ruin things for them by becoming the world’s worst cliché—the dad who fell for the nanny.

  Chapter Six

  Rachel did her best to keep to herself over the weekend so she could give Ian some proper family time with his children. Not that their bowling outing hadn’t been the perfect, cozy night out for two adults and a pair of precious twin toddlers, because it had. Very much so, actually.

  Hence Rachel’s hesitance to show her face for the remainder of the weekend.

  It was bad enough that she was getting more attached to Abby and Annie with each passing day. She couldn’t do the same with Ian. Staying in Spring Forest permanently had never been part of her plan. This was just a stopover, a place to try and regain her equilibrium after a wobbly few years. She was supposed to be taking a much needed breath, saving her money and coming up with a real agenda for her future.

  What she was not supposed to be doing was holding hands with her boss and thinking about how being with him and his daughters made her feel at last like she belonged somewhere. Really belonged.

  So Rachel pretended not to hear the tiny knocks on her door Sunday afternoon when Ian, Annie and Abby were having a tea party on a blanket in the backyard. She buried her face in her book and didn’t dare peek beyond the eyelet curtains in her bedroom. When she stepped outside Monday morning and found a plastic teacup and saucer sitting on her doorstep, her heart gave a forbidden little tug. Inside the flowery cup was a handful of chocolate kisses wrapped in silvery foil.

  Those little girls were going to break her heart if she wasn’t careful. Clearly, this was a situation that required chocolate. Immediately. She removed the wrapper from one of the kisses, popped the candy into her mouth and strode to the back door of the main house, bracing herself to face Ian for the first time since their sweet, intimate moment at the bowling alley.

  “Good morning,” she said as breezily as she could manage as she pushed through the door and spotted a figure standing by the coffee maker.

  And then she blinked, because it wasn’t Ian. No broad, muscular shoulders. No charming morning stubble. No tiny, clingy running shorts that she was always dangerously tempted to stare at, agog.

  Instead, Elma turned to face her, sipping from Ian’s favorite coffee cup—the one with the photo of Abby and Annie in matching pumpkin costumes from last Halloween.

  The chocolate kiss seemed to lodge in Rachel’s throat. She gulped it down and managed a weak attempt at a smile. “Good morning, Elma.”

  Elma went completely and utterly still as her gaze traveled from Rachel’s messy bun, which probably screamed “just rolled out of bed,” all the way down to her tank top, her softest pair of jeans and her pink ballerina flats that had begun to form a hole in the right toe. She may as well have been wearing pajamas, bunny slippers and a sign around her neck that said I SLEPT HERE LAST NIGHT.

  “Good morning,” Elma said coolly. The only outward sign of any emotion she might be experiencing upon seeing Rachel walk into her son-in-law’s kitchen at six in the morning was a tiny slosh of coffee that spilled over the rim of her trembling coffee mug. “What was your name again? Rebecca?”

  “It’s Rachel.” She smiled as she clutched the teacup to her chest as if it were a security blanket made of chipped plastic. “It’s lovely to see you again. I’m guessing you might be wondering why I’m here.”

  Elma’s raised eyebrow said it all.

  “I work here now. I’m Abby and Annie’s nanny.” She held the teacup up as evidence.

  “Their nanny?” Elma sniffed. “Well, isn’t that interesting? I tried to tell Ian that the children would be better off staying at home with me while he went to work, but he insisted they needed to be in preschool so they could make friends. It seems he’s changed his mind.”

  “The girls are just taking a break. Ian fully intends to enroll them in school again...soon. Annie and Abby just need a little time to adjust to their family situation.” Rachel swallowed hard. She definitely didn’t want to be the one who had to explain to Elma that her grandchildren were struggling with the loss of their mom. “I know Ian meant to talk to you about everything as soon as you returned from your trip. I’m guessing you haven’t had a chance to discuss things yet.”

  “I just got home last night. I got up early to make cinnamon rolls to surprise everyone this morning.” She let out a world-weary sigh, as if she’d just returned from circumnavigating the globe instead of shopping for antiques in Asheville. “Now I’m the one that’s surprised. Can I ask why you’re sneaking in through the back door instead of arriving at work via the front entrance?”

  “Oh. Well...” Rachel shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She’d sort of thought the fact that she was living on the premises had been implied, but apparently not. Well, if she needed to spell it out... “I’m staying in the carriage house. Since Ian occasionally works long hours, he suggested it might be easier if I was just a stone’s throw away.”

  Elma said nothing. Rachel had thought she might be glad to hear that Rachel wasn’t actually staying in the main house, but she didn’t seem relieved in the slightest. In fact, the color appeared to be slowly draining from her face, as if the news of Rachel moving into the carriage house was even worse than if she’d just climbed out of Ian’s bed.

  “I usually pop over early in the mornings so Ian can go on a run without worrying about leaving the girls by themselves.” She was just babbling now. Why did she feel guilty even though she’d done nothing wrong?

  Rachel reached into the teacup for another candy but came up empty. There wasn’t enough chocolate in the world to get her through this uncomfortable conversation anyway.

  “The carriage house was meant for my retirement,” Elma said quietly. “That’s what Serena told me, but I suppose things have changed. Nothing is the same anymore.”

  The older woman’s shoulders sagged, and Rachel crumbled a little bit inside. Elma was hurting...clearly. No wonder Ian had been dragging his feet about setting firmer boundaries and had put off talking to Elma about her job as the girls’ nanny.

  Rachel set the teacup down on the kitchen counter and glanced at the fresh pan of cinnamon rolls situated on a neatly folded gingham-checked dish towel. The icing on them was at least an inch thick. If she hadn’t been so concerned for Elma, the comforting scents of cinnamon and warm dough might have made her moan out loud.

  “Those look delicious. You’re a wonderful cook, Elma. Ian and the girls are very lucky to have you,” Rachel said, sliding her gaze toward Elma.

  The compliment seemed to catch the older woman off guard. Her lips flashed a smile that vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. “Thank you, although I doubt Ian agrees with you. Most of the time, I think he considers me more of a burden than a help.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true.”

  “No, it was my daughter who wanted me around, not Ian. And now she’s gone—and everyone is moving on. Everyone except me.”

  Rachel shifted her weight from one ballerina flat to the other. She probably shouldn’t be inserting herself into Ian’s personal family business.

  Scratch that—she definitely shouldn’t. But Elma had lost a daughter. Rachel knew what it was like to lose a loved one. It was messy and complicated, but most of all, it was lonely—such a lonely, lonely experience that Rachel would never wish it on anyone.

  Rachel had been just a tiny baby when her mom passed away, but Emily Gray’s absence had left a mark on her every bit as raw and real as if she’d actually remembered what it had felt like to be cradled in her mother’s arms. Or had known the sound of her mother’s laughter...the taste of her favorite chocolate cake recipe. Sometimes, Rachel even wondered if she still would have ended up so thoroughly ruining her own life if her mother had never been buried all those years ago.

  But she knew better than to go down that road. What’s done was done. The past was the past... It just didn’t always feel that way when she was still actively running away from it.

  “No one will ever replace your daughter.” Rachel reached to give Elma’s hand a squeeze. “That’s not why I took this job. You have my word. I’m here for the girls—as their nanny and nothing more—because they need my help. But I don’t have a permanent place in their lives. You do.”

  Elma looked out at the carriage house through the window above the sink, nodding slowly. Then she reached into the cabinet for a plate, carefully placed one of the warm cinnamon rolls on it and handed it to Rachel.

  “I’ll admit you have a calming effect on Abby, and Annie does seem to come out of her shell a bit when you’re around,” Elma said with no small amount of reluctance.

  “Thank you.” Rachel took a bite of the cinnamon roll. It was doughy and sweet and tasted so much like home that it made her throat go thick.

  This is not your home, and it never will be.

  “Again, you don’t have to worry. The carriage house will still be here for your retirement. I’m only here for a little while, and there’s nothing between Ian and me.” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “You have my word.”

  * * *

  Ian stood in the hallway just around the corner from the kitchen, willing himself not to clear his throat. Or step on the one plank of the hardwood floor that always seemed to creak. Or do anything else to give away his presence to Elma and Rachel.

  He had no business whatsoever listening in on their conversation, obviously. Ian was keenly aware that his behavior was problematic, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. The vulnerability in Rachel’s tone as she spoke to his mother-in-law had held him spellbound. She always kept herself so tightly guarded, and he hadn’t been able to resist listening to her actually open up. He’d only meant to catch a word or two. He wanted to know her...really know her. But it had been years since Ian had been interested in a woman. He didn’t know how to go about it anymore. Sometimes when he was around Rachel, it was all he could do to form complete sentences, much less develop any sort of meaningful connection.

  Plus, she was the children’s nanny. He shouldn’t even be thinking in terms of getting to know her better.

  And yet...

  As soon as she’d uttered those fateful words, Ian’s heart seemed to freeze.

  I’m only here for a little while, and there’s nothing between Ian and me. You have my word.

  The moment he’d heard them, Ian had gone hollow inside. His ribs grew tight, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He had a sharp twinge in his chest. It almost felt like an acute case of homesickness.

  Which made no sense whatsoever. Ian already had a home. He was standing right inside of it. And he knew perfectly well that the goal was to get the twins back in school. The nanny arrangement was never meant to be permanent.

  “Good morning, everyone,” he said, doing his best to paste a smile on his face as he propelled himself into the kitchen.

  Enough with the lurking and the eavesdropping and the pathetic pining. What was happening to him? Rachel had no interest in him beyond the fact that he was Annie and Abby’s father, and that’s exactly how it should be. She was an employee—not his confidante, not his lover and certainly not his soul mate. Ian wasn’t even sure he believed in the concept of soul mates anymore. As much as he’d loved Serena, their relationship had never been the head-over-heels, all-consuming type of love. He’d never lost control and done something as stupid as hide in a hallway and spy on her, and that had suited Ian just fine. When he’d lost her, he’d still been devastated. How much worse would it have been if he’d truly been wrapped up in his feelings for her, enough to lose his head?

  He preferred being in control of his emotions, more so now than ever before. His girls needed him to be strong, stable and consistent. Always holding himself together enough to put them first. The more control he had over his head, his heart and his home, the better.

  “Ian. Um, good morning.” Rachel’s eyes grew wide as she peered at him over the top of one of Elma’s famous cinnamon rolls.

  He met her gaze head on. Yes, I heard every word you just said, and I’m fine with it. So totally fine that his jaw seemed to be clenching of its own volition.

  Her lips parted ever so slightly, almost like she wanted to explain herself but didn’t dare.

  Ian stared for a beat, drawn in by the sight of her pink-carnation mouth. So lush, so perfect.

  So utterly out of his reach. Period.

  “Good morning, Elma.” Ian turned toward his mother-in-law and gave her a hug. “I hope you had a nice trip.”

  Elma let out a tiny gasp, as if the embrace had caught her by surprise, which only made Ian feel worse. Had he really been that standoffish toward her recently?

  Probably. But now Rachel was here, helping to thaw things between them, working the same strange and special magic on everyone that had already completely enamored his girls.

  Panic clawed at his insides. What the hell was he going to do when she left? And why, oh why, couldn’t she stay?

  “Asheville was lovely,” Elma said, wiping down the kitchen counter even though it was already spotless. Ordinarily, such a move would’ve irritated Ian to no end. Now he recognized it as a product of nervous energy. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who craved the sense of being in control. “I bought an antique dollhouse for the girls. I thought maybe I could help them decorate it.”

  He nodded. “That sounds nice. I’m sure they’ll love it.”

  Elma handed him a plate with not just one but two fragrant cinnamon rolls on it. “It’s in the trunk of my car. Maybe you can bring it in after you eat.”

  So much for his morning run.

  “I’d be happy to go get it,” Rachel said, grabbing Elma’s keys off the kitchen counter and making herself scarce before either of them could stop her.

  Always so eager to run away. Bitterness churned Ian’s stomach. He was being unfair and he knew it. When had he turned into such a complete and total jerk?

  He sat down at the kitchen table and plunged a fork into a gooey, warm roll while Elma took a seat across from him. She made a point of glancing out the window toward the carriage house and then directly back at him, eyes blazing. Elma and Rachel might have reached a tentative understanding, but clearly, the jury was still out on whether there would be any forgiveness for Ian.

  “Elma.” He put his fork down and folded his hands, doing his best to sound calm and reasonable, even though inside he felt anything but. Rachel’s voice kept repeating over and over again in his head on a loop.

  There’s nothing between Ian and me.

  “As I’m sure you know by now, I’ve hired Rachel as the twins’ new nanny. She’s staying in the carriage house.” He cleared his throat. “For now.”

  “So I’ve heard.” Elma sniffed.

  Ian desperately wanted to remind her that had she not let herself into his home in the early, predawn hours with no warning whatsoever, she never would’ve been caught so off guard by Rachel’s presence. Now didn’t seem like the time.

  “She’s great with the girls, and I know you want what’s best for them just as much as I do,” he said.

  “Yes, but—”

  He held up a hand, gently cutting her off. “But the carriage house will still be there for you when the time is right. Serena made you a promise, and of course I’m going to honor it.”

  Elma pursed her lips, unconvinced.

  Ian sighed. “Rachel was living in the residence hotel downtown. Would you really have me leave her there?” He hadn’t actually realized she’d been living there when he’d first made the offer—but Elma didn’t need to know that.

 

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