Page 40 of Marrying the Nanny

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Glenda said. “I’m cooking for Art and Sophie tonight and have a lot to finish here, but I’ve already made a shepherd’s pie and a salad for you boys. Emma was going to bring them in a little while.”

“I didn’t want to take for granted you were cooking for us,” Reid said.

“Take me for granted,” Glenda insisted. “Logan does. It’s our love language.”

“We’re practically married, then,” Sophie muttered.

“Things going okay at the marina, Soph?” Reid frowned with concern. “We can make changes if we have to.”

“I’m a big girl. It’s water under the boat.”

“I’ll trust you’d say different if it wasn’t.” He offered a brief pulse of silence.

“It’s all good.” Sophie set her latest pierogi on the tray. “It’s actually a relief that you’re pushing forward with everything Wilf and Tiffany planned. We can quit stressing about how it will get done and get back to work.”

“Do you think this eco thing Tiffany wanted will work?” He folded his arms and balanced his weight between his feet as though standing on the deck of a boat.

“People love watching whales and bears.”

“At half the price she budgeted.”

“The cost is reality. Look at what we pay for potatoes. I wasn’t sure Tiffany could make a go of it, but Trys? I have faith he can.”

“Yeah, if anyone can pull it off, it’s him.”

Another lull in conversation.

“You want to take off your jacket and join the pierogi-making party?” Sophie invited.

“Mashing of the potatoes was always my contribution, not so much the assembly. I order them sometimes at cafés. They’re never as good as your mom’s.”

That small remark made Sophie go all misty. She nodded at a chair. “Sit and earn your supper, then.”

“Can’t. Trystan is hosting a kitchen-building party. I said I’d come back to help.”

“Excuses, excuses. You know darned well I’m going to give you a few sacks of these.”

“I didn’t want to take that for granted, seeing as it’s a sign of undying affection and you’re an employee. I’m trying to keep things professional.”

Emma suspected there was something in that statement meant for her ears, but she kept her eyes on the edges of dough she was carefully pinching together.

“Will you walk back with me, Emma? There are a couple of things we need to discuss.”

She felt Sophie’s radar swivel and pick up the color that rushed into her cheeks. She could practically hear the ping, ping, ping of it zeroing in on her discomfort.

“Sure.” She had to go back and face them sometime. “Thanks for the wine.” She drained hers in a gulp.

“Cork’s always open.” Sophie watched her rise, gaze curious.

“Take the shepherd’s pie.” Glenda pulled it from the fridge with the salad and put both in an empty cardboard box. “Three fifty for an hour,” she advised. “And take some cookies. The dough was store bought. I got lazy.”

“First word that comes to mind when I think of you,” Reid teased as he took the box. He shifted out of the way so Emma could get her coat off the hook behind him. “How long are you staying?” he asked Glenda.

“I’ll bring everything over in the morning, see what else I can help with. I’ll catch the late ferry if everything’s under control.”

“Sounds good. See you then.” He nodded at Sophie and held the door for Emma.

Chapter Eight

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