Ann Evans: The Midwife's Glass Slipper / Best For the Baby: The Midwife's Glass Slipper

But just as Jared had seemed to read her before, his hand slid away from her, his tongue ceased exploring and his mouth—although his lips clung a little—broke off their kiss. She heard his rough sigh.

Then she opened her eyes to gaze into his.

He turned from her slightly, rubbed his hand over his chin, shifted away, then focused on her. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

It seemed as if the words were hard for him to say, as if he didn’t want to say them but knew he had to.

“I shouldn’t have let you.”

“It will not happen again,” he said as if reassuring himself of that. “This isn’t an excuse, but I’ve never met anyone who understood that moment of birth like you do.” He rubbed his hands on his thighs. “This won’t affect our working relationship. I mean, you don’t have to worry about your job.”

That was a relief but didn’t address the attraction still simmering between them. “We can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

“No, we can’t. I’ll remember it every time I look at you. But I can control my actions.” He glanced toward the kitchen and the message machine. “Did you get any phone calls tonight from Chloie Madison?”

“No, I didn’t.”

He looked troubled.

“That’s your cousin?”

“Yes. I need her tomorrow.”

Should she offer to help or not? Should she step in deeper or move away?

Yet, thinking about how she’d loved taking care of Amy and Courtney, she offered, “I can help.” But perhaps her help wouldn’t be wanted after what had just happened. “My day off is tomorrow,” she reminded him. “I can look after the girls if you need me.”

She saw in his eyes that he needed her in a much more basic and intimate way. But then the spark of desire diminished and control took its place.

She added, “I usually just run errands on my day off. But after what just happened, I’ll understand if the situation is too awkward.”

He seemed to think about the pros and cons. “The truth is—I’m surprised you’re still here.”

Emily certainly couldn’t say she didn’t run from problems. That’s exactly what she’d done with the whole mess in Corpus Christi and her divorce. But she liked to think she was mature enough to face a problem without turning away from it. “What happened between you and me doesn’t have to affect me watching your girls. You have surgeries in the morning and won’t even be here.”

“I’m interviewing a nanny in the afternoon, but that’s at my office. Are you sure you’ll feel comfortable with this?”

Jared Madison demanded honesty. She’d learned that over the months she’d worked with him. “I like Courtney and Amy. I’ll be comfortable here.”

He nodded and pushed himself up from the sofa away from her. “All right. I’ll take you up on your offer. But I’ve got to tell you, I don’t like being in debt to anyone. I’ll pay you. Your time is valuable, too.”

“No,” came out of her mouth before she had time to think about it. “I don’t want any payment. Let’s just say we’re doing this friend to friend.”

After he studied her again, really studied her, he nodded. “All right. For now. But I will find a way to repay you.”

She really didn’t want him to repay her, and she suddenly realized why. The crush she’d had on him, if she could call it that, was turning into something else. Now that she was getting to know him, could she be falling in love with him?

That question scared her too much to even consider.

The following afternoon, Jared tapped his loafered foot under his desk, impatient though he shouldn’t be. This woman sitting across from him could be Courtney and Amy’s next nanny, although he couldn’t quite imagine it.

“You’ve lived in Lubbock all your life?” he asked Mrs. Brunswell, a sturdy woman in her early fifties with gray hair that stood out around her head like a fuzzy halo.

Very straight in her chair, she answered him, “Yes, all my life. I’ve no desire to go anywhere. Some people want to see the world. I make myself happy right here in Lubbock.”

Would she curb the girls’ curiosity about the world? Would she make them think Lubbock was all there was? On the other hand, it was good to be happy where you were. He was second-guessing himself, trying to find the perfect person to take care of his daughters. If he had to admit it, he’d already found her. Emily would be perfect. But she had a job that he knew was important to her, even though he wondered if she wouldn’t be better suited working in the hospital, helping to deliver babies.

The older woman sat forward in her chair. “You said you have twins, Dr. Madison. The first thing to do with twins is to show them that they are individuals. It’s much better not to dress them alike and not to let them spend all their time together. They also need to explore individual talents. If one takes piano lessons, the other should take clarinet. They deserve their own instrument. Do you know what I mean?”

Courtney and Amy liked to dress alike. They didn’t have to. They had plenty of clothes in their closets, but they chose to wear the same outfits on the same days. They liked to be with each other. They played with other children and would be doing more of that when preschool started next week. But they preferred each other’s company. Should he really interfere with that? What would Emily think?

He moved to the next point on his checklist. “In my occupation I have unusual hours. Would you be able to cook supper for them if need be?”

“I can cook, but I don’t make chicken nuggets and French fries. I cook good meals—pork and sauerkraut, spinach and zucchini casseroles, lots of vegetables, good protein, few potatoes. I have to cut out those carbohydrates, you know.”

Jared thought about Emily serving the takeout food. He thought of Emily, helping cut Courtney’s meat. He thought of Emily retying the bows in Amy’s hair. What kind of meals would Emily cook if given the chance?

In spite of the restraint he’d been employing ever since last night and their earth-shaking kiss, he’d tried to keep his mind strictly on the practical aspects of his day. But he could not just drop that kiss from his memory. He couldn’t just push it into a closet and lock the door. It kept peeking out. It kept unsettling him. It kept reminding him he was a man with needs. Just thinking about it aroused him and that had to stop.

Pork and sauerkraut. Spinach. Caring. Playing. Connecting.

“Do you know children’s games?” he suddenly asked.

“I can play gin rummy and crazy eights,” Mrs. Brunswell replied, as if those were the only games required.

“I’m thinking of outside games, too—hide-and-seek, scavenger hunts.”

“Oh, I suppose we could do those.”

Fair or unfair, he was getting the feeling that Mrs. Brunswell might keep an eye to the TV while she played crazy eights with her charges. She looked slow-footed to him as if running after a child would take a great deal of effort.

Jared’s cell phone beeped and he was glad for the interruption. “Excuse me,” he said to Mrs. Brunswell. Then swiveling away from her, he checked the number. It was Emily. “What’s wrong?” he asked, worried.

“Nothing’s wrong. The girls are fine. I’m fine. We’re having a great day. Two things,” she said quickly. “First of all, your cousin Chloie called.”

“Why didn’t she call my cell?”

“She just got around to checking her messages and didn’t have your number in her contact list. The good news is she can help you. She’s on South Padre Island meeting with a client and will be back tonight. She can take care of the twins tomorrow. She said she’s caught up on her Web design deadlines and can take a break.”