Raye Morgan - A Nanny Under the Mistletoe

“Seemed like a good idea at the time” was the best way Libby could describe her first week under Jess’s roof. Libby had been so sure the living arrangement would take the edge off her attraction, but not so much in the first week. Even when he wasn’t there, which was ninety-five percent of the time, the place was all about him.

Pictures of him hiking in Red Rock Canyon. A carelessly discarded expensive silk tie in the family room. The spicy scent of him in every room made it feel like having his arms around her. Or was that wishful thinking? Not that it mattered. Or it wouldn’t if she could say the idea was unpleasant. Nothing could be further from the truth.

“Aunt Libby?”

“Hmm?” She pulled her thoughts back to tucking Morgan into bed. “Sorry, sweetie. I was thinking about something else.”

“That’s okay.” The little girl pulled the sheet and blanket more securely over her.

“Do you want me to finish the story?”

“No.”

Libby studied the serious little face. “Is something on your mind?”

“Yes.”

Libby suppressed a smile. When Morgan first came to stay with her this method of communication had taken some getting used to. Instead of blurting out whatever was going through her head, she worked her way to it with a series of questions. It wasn’t efficient, but eventually what she needed to discuss got discussed.

“Is everything all right at school? Your kindergarten teacher says you’re one of her pet pupils and she’s not supposed to have favorites.”

Twin dimples flashed on the child’s cheeks when she smiled. “Miss Connie is nice.”

“She is very nice.”

Nooks and Nannies Preschool had a kindergarten class and Morgan went there while Libby was working with her preschoolers. Charity and Ben had been supposed to come home before first grade to enroll the little girl at the school near their home. Now their child lived in a luxury penthouse condominium, a different home. Fortunately, Jess had agreed with her that changing schools right now wasn’t the best plan.

“So if school isn’t keeping you up at night, what’s bothering you?”

Morgan clutched her doll against her thin chest. “I don’t think he likes me.”

“Who? A boy at school? Is someone being mean to you?”

“No. That guy.”

“Who?” Alarm trickled through Libby.

“My daddy’s friend.”

“You mean Uncle Jess?”

She nodded. “I don’t think he’s very happy that we came to live with him.”

Libby had hoped Morgan didn’t pick up on the signs that he was ignoring them, but no such luck. “Why do you think that, sweetie?”

“He’s never here.”

“Sure he is,” Libby protested. “In the mornings.”

Her stomach tightened as she remembered just today he’d come into the kitchen to say goodbye before heading to his office. In his pinstriped navy suit and red tie he’d looked particularly handsome. Freshly shaven, with every hair in place, he’d set her female parts quivering with awareness. Darn him. He’d revved up her hormones, then raced out the door.

“Two times he drank a cup of coffee while I ate cereal. But he doesn’t sit down with me. Not like you do, Aunt Libby.”

Sometimes a smart and perceptive child could be worrisome and this was one of those times. At least she wasn’t perceptive enough to notice Libby’s insane crush on Jess, but that probably had more to do with her young age. There was still an ick factor regarding boys.

Libby wished for the good old days because her current plan wasn’t coming together very well. Every exposure to Jess was supposed to be like a vaccination and living here should have been the booster. Should have being the key words.

“Jess is a busy man, sweetheart. He has lots of people working for him and depending on him.”

“Does he eat supper?” Morgan asked.

“I’m sure he does.” If he didn’t, the impressive muscles that filled out his T-shirt would be fairly nonexistent. And they were definitely existent, positively thriving. In a mouth-watering way. Libby had no ick factor where he was concerned.

“I’ve never seen him eat supper, Aunt Libby. He doesn’t like us.”

Libby figured that was true enough for her, but he had no reason to dislike this sweet, innocent child who was right about him not coming home for dinner.

“He doesn’t really know us yet,” she said. “Give it time. This is new for him. He’s not used to us, but that will change. Everything will be all right. You’ll see.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart,” she said.

After a big hug and lots of kisses that made Morgan giggle, Libby turned on the world’s brightest night light. “Sweet dreams, love bug.”

“Okay,” Morgan answered sleepily as she rolled to her side.

With a full heart and troubled spirit Libby watched for several moments, then made up her mind to talk to Jess. It wasn’t long before she heard the front door open and close.

Imagine that. We have touchdown right after the kid is in bed. Morgan wasn’t the only observant resident of the penthouse. Apparently Jess was aware of her bedtime and how to avoid it and her.

Libby found him in the kitchen, where he was reaching into the refrigerator for a beer and the plate of food saved for him. The angle gave her a chance to admire his excellent butt. That thought was immediately replaced by a mental command for her hormones to back off.

“Hi, Jess.”

He straightened and turned to meet her gaze. “Hi.”

“How was your day?”

“Fine. Busy.” He shrugged. “You?”

“I just put Morgan to bed. You can go in and tell her good-night if you want. I don’t think she’s asleep yet.”

“That’s okay. It might upset her routine.”

Hers or his? she wondered.

“You must be hungry,” she said.

“Why?”

“Besides the plate of food in your hand?”

He glanced at it and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I missed dinner.”

“We noticed.”

“Oh?” He removed the plastic over the meatloaf, mashed potatoes and green beans, then set it in the microwave and pressed the reheat button.

“Yeah, what with your chair at the table being empty and all.”

He twisted the top off his beer and took a long swallow, then looked at her. “What’s on your mind, Libby?”

“Funny, that’s just what I said to Morgan when I tucked her in bed. I could tell there was something bothering her. She tends to share what’s on her mind at bedtime.”

“Do I need to know what it is?”

Of course, you nit, she wanted to say. Struggling for patience, she said, “You’re her guardian.”

“And I pay you to make sure she has everything she needs.”

She walked over to the granite-covered island and kept it between them as she met his gaze. “It’s also in my job description to make sure you’re aware of what’s going on with her emotionally. I thought you should know that she’s noticed you don’t come home for dinner.”

“I see.”

That’s all he could say? Libby rubbed her palms over the black-and-beige granite countertop, but the smooth coolness did little to ease the heat trickling through her. Heat that was part attraction and part annoyance. Just breathing the same air with him raised her pulse when she most needed calm rationality.

In her college speech class there had been discussion of techniques for calming nerves in public speaking. The one about picturing your audience naked came to mind, but with Jess in the same room that only throttled up her quivering nerve endings. Her best bet was to say what she had to and leave.

“Morgan thinks you don’t like her.”

“That’s ridiculous. She’s a kid. Of course I like her. How did she get an idea like that?”