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“We’re good. Thanks.” He thought about the gourmet coffee he’d abandoned on his back porch and figured getting acquainted with a new neighbor was worth the loss of that specially blended caffeine jolt. He’d never be a snob, but he’d pass on the instant.
“Be back in a jiff.” With a dancer’s grace, she started out of the living room. A.J. toddled after her.
“Do you mind a shadow?” Gabe called.
She smiled down at his son, that same soft, yearning look he’d noticed before. “No. Come on, A.J. Let’s see what Brooke has for you.”
Gabe heard the refrigerator open and close, heard her soft voice talking sweetly to A.J. and wondered if she needed a job. A nanny right next door. Not a bad thought. Of course he’d have to check her out but his gut instinct was usually right.
She was one of the Claytons, or at least a friend close enough to attend George’s funeral. If she was staying in town—and why else would she return after a trip to Colorado Springs—chances were, she was jobless.
Plus, he liked her. Even if she was a bubblehead who locked herself out and then promptly forgot she’d done so, her sense of humor was attractive. If she was a few years older, he might like her even more.
His fingers tightened on the rough upholstery.
She wasn’t older, and he needed to keep that in mind all the time. Never mind that he couldn’t stop noticing the dark blue of her eyes or that mile-deep dimple. She was a college girl.
She and A.J. reappeared. His son, the mooch, carried an unpeeled banana.
“Do you mind if he has that?”
“Why would I mind?” he asked.
“You’re his dad. Some people do.” She curled her legs beneath her on the rust-colored couch and drank deeply from the frosty bottle of water. Gabe tore his gaze away from the smooth, pale neck where a single drop of liquid trickled. She was a college girl. He was a man past thirty with a son to raise and a company to run. Hadn’t he learned any thing with Tara?
All he needed from a woman was child care.
A.J. thumped the banana against his thigh. “Daddy.”
Gabe took A.J.’s banana, stripped down the sides and returned it. “Say ‘thank you’ to Brooke.”
A.J. turned his stellar, gapped-tooth smile on his newest conquest. “Tank oo, Book.” He offered the banana. “Bite?”
“No, thank you.” She exchanged smiles with Gabe. “Someone is raising him right.”
“I’m doing my best. A.J.’s mother died in a car accident.” He didn’t know why he’d added the last. Maybe because he didn’t want anyone to automatically assume he was divorced, although he probably would have been if Tara had survived.
The thought of that last, bitter betrayal curdled in his stomach.
The bottle of water paused at Brooke’s lips. “I’m sorry. Raising a baby alone must be really hard.”
“Sometimes. Things are tough right now because A.J.’s nanny stayed behind when we moved. Child care’s not easy to find in Clayton.”
Brooke stilled, her expression part yearning and part fear, neither of which Gabe understood.
“You’re looking for a nanny?”
“Would you be interested?” If she said yes, he could ask for references. Or better yet, ask at the Cowboy Café. Hadn’t Erin and Kylie mentioned how sweet Brooke Clayton was?
Her eyes widened. “Are you offering me a job?”
“Do you need one?”
“Well—yes, but—no.”
He would have laughed but her reaction was strange to say the least. “Can you elaborate a little?”
A.J. angled toward a dangling electric cord. Before Gabe could react, Brooke did. She yanked the plug from the wall and stashed the cord behind the lamp. With a sigh, she leaned one hand on a covered chair and said, “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet, but I can’t work for you.”
“Why not?”
“I just can’t.” A shiny, pink handbag rested on the end table. She opened the silver clasp and looked inside. Frowning, she bit down on her bottom lip. “I knew that key wouldn’t be in here. I put it under the pot, just like always.”
She closed the purse with a frustrated snap.
