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Which makes me wonder what her hair would look like spread out over the pillows in my bedroom like the dark, moody rays of a sunset.
Fucking stop it.
“Nope, not lost. Just fantasizing about getting lost,” I tell her, suddenly more interested in staring at her than getting in my car. At least not without her in it.
“Ha, I know how that goes.”
“Yeah?” She didn’t give me that impression earlier. Then again, I was too busy whining about my business problems to ask. Because I’m just that kind of asshole, apparently. I’m surprised she indulged me for as long as she did. In fact, I’m surprised she’s standing here now. “Care to elaborate?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. Not today.” She smiles and waits, but then her enthusiasm gets the better of her, and she blurts, “I got the job.”
The sight of her has highjacked my brain cells, and all I can do is stare and think about what I could do to her for one long night that would result in her hair looking just like this.
“Aren’t you going to say congratulations?” She taps her foot impatiently.
“Of course. Congrats. Hope Dash didn’t ask irritating questions that have nothing to do with the job. He can get off on a tangent.”
“He was fine. Barely asked me anything. In fact, I kind of think the fact that you warned him against me worked in my favor. For future reference, if you want to tank someone’s interview, make your brother think it’s all his idea.”
Now she has my attention. “Wait, he told you I tried to tank your interview?” Doesn’t sound like Dash, but maybe Ruby has the same kind of hold on him that she seems to have on me. The thought makes my skin crawl.
Her lips quirk into a knowing smile. “No, but you just did. Why, Jackson? I thought we were doing so well. Where’s the radical honesty I was led to believe I could expect from you?” Her voice is plaintive, teasing, as she wrings her hands.
“I’m sorry. But I read your resume, and I still think you’ll hate pouring wine all day.”
“I won’t. It’s the perfect job. I have my reasons.”
She looks so definitive, crossing her arms in her powerful woman stance, that I decide to take her word for it. “Okay, then. Look forward to bumping into you from time to time.”
The fantasy of my car and the open road is still calling to me. Of course, I’ll be walking back inside the house to take care of Fiona for the next hour and work after she goes to bed, so my wistful thoughts are the only respite I’ve got.
She puts out a hand like a stop sign. “Wait. What about the other part? You need someone to help with Fiona, and I could use the money. Didn’t we have a deal earlier?”
Cocking my head to the side, I take her in again—all of her this time. “Hey, you changed clothes.”
She looks down at the dress she’s wearing and smooths her hands over the skirt, which only draws my eye even more to the curve of her hips. The blue sets off her pale skin and riotous copper hair in ways that make me feel more alive than I have since my wife left.
“Yeah. I had a few hours to kill before my interview, so…” She fans her hands to the side and juts a hip out. I stifle a groan.
Her green eyes are merciless, peering into my soul in a way that should be illegal. The pink apples of her cheeks are so round and perfect that I want to take a bite out of each one. Then my eyes drop down to her pink lips and stay there. I imagine how they’d taste, sun-ripened like a summer berry. Like the jam I had this morning.
She’s windblown and worn by a day that’s already lasted more than twelve hours, and she’s even more beautiful than she was this morning. More real. Like a carefree woman who belongs on the back of a horse in a field or gliding on a porch swing with gin and juice in a Ball jar.
I’m feeling worse for the wear, but she seems willing and eager to keep going. I know from looking at her resume that she’s twenty-seven, which gives me a handful of years on her.
I sort of thought she’d forget about the nanny position if she got the other job, and a part of me knows it will be a test of my patience to have her working for me. Not to mention the parts of me she’s brought back to life in a matter of hours. I can’t afford to think about what effect she’d have on me after days. Weeks…
It’s dangerous territory, and I know better than to take risks where my daughter is concerned. To say nothing of my heart. She’s elicited feelings from me that are better kept under lock and key.
“I’m not hiring you as my nanny.”
“What? Why? Fiona loved me.”
“Yeah, maybe a little too much. She was running around all afternoon trying to catch bugs. She wants to have a bug habitat in our house now so she can observe them and become friends with them.”
She nods, walks past me to the porch steps, and sits on the top one. Suddenly, my legs feel as tired as my brain, so I sit next to her, careful to keep enough distance between us so that my dick doesn’t get any wild ideas about my intentions.
“Cool,” she says. “Amazing, actually. She was scared this morning, and now she wants to be friends with bugs?”
