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He opened his mouth to counter that he wasalwaysdressed in the morning, when something on the counter in front of her yanked at his attention. “Are you reading the newspaper?”
Bree straightened as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. Finally, she said, “Yeah,” but didn’t elaborate.
His curiosity spurted, and although he didn’t want to push her so hard she clammed up, he couldn’t let it go. He didn’t even know you couldgethard copies of the newspaper anymore.
“That’s new,” he said, keeping his voice purposely casual. Maybe if they had a no-big-deal conversation, she’d open up a little.
Much to his surprise, the impromptu tactic actually worked.
“Yeah, well, it’s important to be informed. I don’t want to be an idiot.” She shrugged, but rather than aiming herself toward the door, she resumed eating her breakfast.
Gavin bent his emerging laughter into a wry smile, not wanting to scare her away by seeming too eager. “I guess not. I’ve got to give you some credit, though. Reading the paper is a smart way to go.” He crossed the kitchen to dig for the coffee beans and the grinder.
“It was Sloane’s idea. She’s really big on going old school with the paper. She said it’s a good way to practice interpretive reading. You know, telling the difference between opinion and facts?”
Surprise streaked through him, but he buried it in the cabinet under his hands. “That’s why she’s the tutor.” The bag of coffee beans hit the countertop with a plunk, but he forced his hands to steadiness. He was an adult. Of course he could handle this accordingly.
“Oh, yeah, speaking of people who take care of me, Mrs. Teasdale called while you were sleeping. Super weird that this place has an actual landline, but…” Shrugging, Bree took a bite of bacon while his stomach plummeted to the vicinity of his kneecaps. How had he missed the phone ringing?
“She did?” Gavin’s stomach kept descending. Something told him it hadn’t been a social call. “Did she ask me to call her back?”
Bree nodded, a wisp of hair falling over her eyes. “Yeah, but she told me everything you need to know.”
“What?”
“I’m a teenager. We’re really good at talking on the phone,” she said with a matter-of-fact eye roll. “She said that her sister’s insurance wouldn’t cover a full-time caregiver, so she won’t be back for another six weeks.”
“Six?” He fumbled the lid to the bean grinder, and it clattered to the floor with a noisy rattle. “Are you serious?”
“Yup. She was really apologetic and stuff. I had to tell her three times I’d be okay. She said she’d try you back later to talk to you herself.”
Gavin blew out an extended exhale, sorting through the options. “Well, I guess I can put in a call to the babysitting service and tell them I still need someone temporary.” It had been over a week since that first call. They had to have a line on someone he could use by now.
Bree busied herself by folding the paper into a crisp rectangle. “Or we could just keep Sloane.”
Gavin’s muscles pulled tight over his bones in a totally involuntary response. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Why not? I mean, she’s already taking care of me, right?”
Suddenly, he had the urge to put something stronger than coffee in the French press. “It’s not necessarily that easy. She’s not a full-time sitter. And anyway, it’s just six weeks. I’m sure the agency can send us a great temporary sitter.”
“If it’sjustsix weeks, then why can’t youjustask Sloane?” she asked, her frown deepening. In spite of the sassy delivery, the question made sense, and Gavin knew it deserved a legitimate answer. After all, she was old enough to have at least a little bit of say in the matter.
He was just fairly certain thatbecause she makes me want to flush caution down the toiletwas outside the realm of an appropriate response.
“She’s writing a book, Bree. She might not even be able to do it.” Gavin paused. “I thought you said she was weird, anyway.”
Bree dropped the last bite of bacon to her plate and shoved it away. “She is.” Her chin and her voice both dropped a notch, and she refused to meet his eyes. “But she’s nice, too. And, you know…I just thought since I’m getting good grades now, and since it’s not permanent anyway, that it wouldn’t be such a big deal.”
Several emotions flooded through him all at once, and each one took a whack at his composure. Bree wasn’t wrong about her grade in English. Her teacher had sent him a glowing e-mail detailing Bree’s progress in class. Hell, she was even reading the Sunday paper of her own accord. While Sloane might consider herself the anti-nanny, Gavin had to admit that she wasn’t the bad influence he’d feared in the beginning. But more importantly, in the ten months since their mom’s death, Bree hadn’t asked him for a single thing.
And she was asking now.
“Bree, I—”
“You know what, forget it.” She jumped down from her chair in a rush of gangly limbs. “It was a stupid idea. It doesn’t really matter who my babysitter is. I don’t need one, anyway.”
“I’ll ask her first thing tomorrow morning.”
