Carrie Weaver - Temporary Nanny

“I’m sorry I got him in trouble.”

“He’s usually a good boy, but there are moments when he’s a handful. Do you have kids?” She held up a hand. “No, don’t answer that. Jake’s grilled you enough already.”

Royce smiled. “I don’t mind. I have a grown son, Michael. We’re not close, but I thought I’d reconnect with him while I’m stateside.”

“Stateside?”

“Yeah, I was working in Russia when the accident happened. People tend to assume it was something cloak-and-dagger with the Russian Mafia. Truth is, I was welding and there was a propane leak. Sparks from a welder don’t mix well with combustibles.”

She made a face. “How horrible.”

“It wasn’t fun. I thought I was dead, so waking up in a German hospital was a real bonus.”

“And probably every day after that.”

“Not quite…but it’s getting better. Jake’s been a welcome distraction.”

She hesitated. “Why did you answer him? I mean, it’s a little unusual for a grown man to play spy with a boy.”

“Hey, you don’t think I’m some sort of weirdo, do you?”

“No, not at all,” she quickly assured him. Almost too quickly.

“In case you have any lingering doubts, I have both Russian and U.S. government clearance for my work abroad. I bet I’m the safest guy on the block, maybe even the state.”

“That’s good to know.” She wiped down the kitchen counter. “Does your son live in Phoenix?”

“Michael’s based out of Charlotte. He’s busy becoming the next phenomenon of the racing world.”

“Wait, you said your name is McIntyre? Is your son the Michael McIntyre?”

“Yes. You’ve heard of him?” Though his voice rang with pride, Royce knew he couldn’t take credit for Michael’s accomplishments. Tess deserved that.

“Who hasn’t? But I’m a Ryan Pearce fan myself. I grew up around cars. My dad was a ringman at car shows and I followed in his footsteps. I help keep track of the bids and bidders and I occasionally do the calling when the auctioneer needs a break.”

“I imagine that takes a special talent.”

“Talking really, really fast.” Laughter transformed her face and made her eyes crinkle at the corners. Combined with her upturned nose, she looked a bit like a mischievous elf. “Seriously, I love what I do, both as ringman and backup auctioneer. It requires a working knowledge of classic cars and the ability to read people, work a crowd, anticipate eventualities. I’ve heard some people refer to it as a gift.”

“I bet.”

“The only drawback is the long hours leading up to an auction and the occasional out-of-town event. At first, there weren’t many of those. But since we’ve expanded, I’m spending one, maybe two weekends a month on the road. That makes child-care arrangements tricky. And I hate being away from Jake.”

Royce opened his mouth to urge her to make the most of her time with her son, to move heaven and earth to be with him every moment she could. Otherwise, she’d wake up and Jake would be grown and gone. But he didn’t usually give unsolicited advice.

“I guess that makes life complex,” he said instead.

She nodded. “I have a part-time nanny who coordinates with my mom. I’m lucky I was able to work something out between the two of them. Otherwise it would cost me an arm and a leg.”

“No doubt.” He’d never really thought about child care. But he bet Tess sure had. More and more, he realized how much he owed her. And thought she had more to show for her life than all his adventures in foreign lands. She’d raised a terrific son, while Royce had let go of everything that mattered.

“Are you okay?” Katy asked.

“Yes, fine.” He smiled, trying to chase away his regrets.

Katy got pot holders from a drawer and removed the enchiladas from the oven.

Inhaling, Royce said, “Man, I haven’t smelled anything that good in a long time.”

Katy grinned. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“In a platonic way.”

“Too bad. The other way’s a lot more fun.” Flirtations had always been a handy distraction in the past.

But Katy didn’t seem to think so, he could tell. Her posture was wary.

“Sorry, I was out of line.” Royce hurried to reassure her. “I’ve forgotten what it’s like outside the ex-pat world.”

Her stance relaxed. “I can always use another friend. Romance is out of the question.”

Royce opened his mouth to ask her why, then shut it. It was none of his business. And it was time he faced his problems instead of trying to lose himself in the closest woman who smelled nice.

“Dinner’s ready. Would you mind getting the salad out of the fridge, Royce?”

“Sure.” He liked that she treated him like anyone else. It made it easier to pretend he was like anyone else. Removing a green salad from the refrigerator, he placed it on the table next to the pan of enchiladas. There were already steaming bowls of Mexican- style rice and refried beans out.

“Jake, dinner’s ready,” she called. Turning to Royce, she said, “We’re pretty informal. Serve yourself and have a seat.”

Jake walked into the kitchen, then stood, waiting patiently. Either Mexican food wasn’t the kid’s favorite or Katy had done a good job teaching him manners.

Royce’s stomach growled as he loaded his plate. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this. There isn’t much good Mexican food in Russia.”

“You’ve been to Russia? What’s it like? Is it freezing all the time? Are there really babushkas?” Jake paused to take a breath.

Katy frowned as they sat at the homey table. “Whoa, Jake, give the man a chance to sit down. One question at a time.”

Royce’s brain ached from the effort of crafting answers that would satisfy the boy. “Yes, I lived in Russia for several years. It’s pretty darn cold all over, but particularly in Siberia. And there are babushkas. In the larger cities, the less fortunate ones beg.”

“Beg for what?”

“Money, food, whatever they can get.”

“Wow.” Jake’s eyes were wide as he processed the information. “I want to go there someday.”

“The people are warm and practical. They’ve lived through some rough times, but they keep plugging along.”

“I’d miss my mom if I went that far away. Did you miss your mom?”

Royce cleared his throat. “No, my mom died when I was about your age.”

“I’m sorry,” Katy murmured.

“Who raised you?” Jake asked.

“Jake—”

“It’s okay,” Royce said. “My dad raised me and my younger sister. I missed my mom a lot at first, but after a while I got used to it.”

“I bet your dad played catch with you. Do you like sports?” Jake asked.

“Sure. Basketball, soccer, hockey…”

“Baseball?”

“Of course. Who doesn’t?”

“It’s fun. But I get picked last for the teams at school.”

“That sucks.” Royce was trying hard to relate. Most things had come easily to him as a kid, baseball being no different.

“Yeah, it does suck. I’m picked last because I throw like a girl and don’t know how to bat.”

Katy patted his hand. “I’ll play catch with you tomorrow. We can work on that throwing.”

Jake wrinkled his nose. “You throw like a girl, too.” He turned to Royce. “Will you teach me?”

“Sorry, kid, I don’t play catch these days.” He raised his left arm. “Kind of hard one-handed.”

“It only takes one hand.”

“I’m sorry.” Royce shifted in his chair. A few Rice Krispies Treats were one thing, regular outings another. There was no way he wanted the kid depending on him like that. “I’m just not the guy for the job.”