Page 27 of Marrying the Nanny

“Are you being serious?” Logan asked his mother in a dangerous tone that didn’t make her flinch one hair.

“Never more in my life. And whoever is not on baby patrol can start making headway in that kitchen. I’ll stay with Sophie, but I’ll fill the freezer while I’m here so Emma isn’t stuck doing all the cooking.”

Trystan sent an assessing look to the kitchen. Logan pushed a hand into his hair and released a frustrated sigh.

“Thanks, Glenda.” Reid was polite but expressionless as he turned. He seemed incredibly remote in those seconds, coming forward, but leaving most of himself somewhere else. Very much the man from the lawyer’s office. “Easy meals would be a big help. I’ll take the first nights.” He glanced at Emma, nodded at the baby. “Let’s give her a bath or whatever.”

“Really?” Trystan asked. “You really want to do this? For how long?”

“Until one of us comes up with a better solution,” Reid said flatly. “Shitty situations don’t go away. We learned that one early. Let’s quit bellyaching about how hard it’ll be and start doing what needs to be done.”

Emma didn’t trust it was that simple. They were angry and, given what she was learning about Wilf’s behavior, had a right to be. Maybe Reid wouldn’t take it out on Storm, but would he take it out on her?

He waved at the stairs while behind her Logan said, “I think we found the baby’s nickname.”

“Shitty situation?” Trystan snorted. “I set the table so you clear. Dishwasher’s not hooked up so have fun with that. I’ll go figure out how the cabinets go in.”

Chapter Six

“Please don’t call her that.” Emma flicked on the light as she led Reid into Storm’s bedroom.

“What?” He tracked his gaze to each corner, feeling like a predatory animal that had found itself tricked into a cage. There was no more room in him for disbelief or bargaining or any of the other stages of grief, though. Acceptance was all he had left. Time to dig deep and deal with it.

“Shitty situation,” she quoted.

“That’s not how I meant it.” He folded his arms even though it was plenty warm in here with the central heat vent opened wide and the window blinds down.

“It still might hurt her feelings.” She seemed to be taking this very personally, crinkling her chin, injury lurking around her eyes.

Reid hadn’t allowed himself a lot of curiosity about her. She was an employee. This was temporary, even if it was becoming less so.

He scratched his brow. “She doesn’t understand what we’re saying.”

In fact, the kid was chewing on her fist, staring into space. Disassociated, in his opinion.

“Things like that can stick, though. And rise up later to hurt. It’s a terrible attitude to have toward anyone, especially someone who hasn’t done anything to hurt you.”

“No”—he choked on a laugh—“she’s nothing but a blessing.”

“She might be, if you gave her a chance.” Emma tossed that irate statement over her shoulder as she carried the baby toward the bathroom. She came up short, as though she remembered something. She brought the baby over to him.

“This isn’t a demonstration. It’s a hands-on lesson.” She offered the baby. “Take her while I run the bath.”

They were right back to the staring contest they’d had that first day in the lawyer’s office. He’d been tuning out the baby’s cries and Emma’s femininity in favor of concentrating on discussions and spreadsheets and not feeling anything whatsoever.

Maybe it had been a form of denial, but so what? He was only human.

He looked at the baby, who was bicycling her feet in the air.

Cement sat in his belly. It had poured thickly into his gut as Glenda had lectured them on their responsibility toward their sister. He had plenty to carry with his mother. She was not going to be happy when she realized he was looking after his dad’s fourth kid, but he knew better than to waste energy fighting reality. Some things simply were.

He unbent his arms. They practically creaked as he took the baby from Emma. She wasn’t even fifteen pounds, but Christ did he feel the weight of her.

Emma swallowed, forced a tight smile, and walked away.

Why couldn’t…

He tried to derail that train of thought, but it roared its way through his skull. Why couldn’t his mother be healthy? Why couldn’t his father keep it in his pants? Why couldn’t Emma look after Storm, and why couldn’t he live his own life without being impacted by other people’s bad decisions?

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