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“Still, she’s your family.”
“Not anymore,” I say firmly, finishing my coffee and getting up.
“What are you doing?”
“The kids like my Mickey Mouse pancakes,” I say simply.
“You don’t have to do that. You’re hungover. Let me cook,” Derek says, standing up and placing his hand on the small of my back to move me from the refrigerator.
“If you’re sure,” I say, and plop back down at the kitchen table, my head pounding.
Derek hands me a bottle of water from the fridge, and as I sip it, I watch him move around the kitchen,. After about half the bottle is gone, my headache is much better.
“I probably smell like tequila. I should shower before the kids get up,” I say.
“They’re already up. I have them watching Paw Patrol in Maggie’s room,” Derek says.
I laugh. “Whatever works.”
“I need at least two cups of coffee before I can handle my little gremlins,” he chuckles, mixing something in a big bowl.
I start to walk toward the living room.
“Kenna?”
When I turn to look at him, Derek is staring at me, his green eyes intense.
“Yeah?”
“About last night,” he starts, and then trails off.
I stand there, looking at him, swallowing hard. “Yeah?” I repeat dumbly.
“I hope you had a good time,” he says quietly, and I kind of want to scream, but instead, I just nod and make my way up the huge staircase.
13
DEREK
I’m dying to know everything about Kenna’s night out, including who the guy was who spoke into my intercom at two in the damn morning, but I knew when I gave her this job that she would have her own life.
She’s my nanny, not my girlfriend.
So, why does it make me seethe just thinking about someone else’s hands on her?
And now I have Suzanna trying to wiggle her way back into our lives.
I roll my shoulders around, trying to stop feeling tense as I finish up breakfast.
“Mickey Mouse pancakes?” Eli asks, rubbing his eyes as he comes down the stairs. Dollars to donuts he went back to sleep after climbing in bed with Maggie to watch television this morning. Maggie is a morning person. Eli, not so much.
“Dad’s famous biscuits and gravy,” I say, preparing myself for a tantrum.
Instead, Eli’s little arms go around me and he hugs my legs from behind. “I like it when you’re home to make breakfast, Daddy,” he says softly, and I turn around to tickle him and pick him up. He squeals in glee and then Maggie stomps down the stairs.
“Where’s Kenna?” Maggie demands to know, and I laugh and put Eli into his booster seat in one of the dining room chairs.
“She’s taking a shower, Magpie. She’ll be down in a minute.”
