Page 51 of Marrying the Nanny

“Geez, Cleopatra, you want a pyramid to go with that throne you’re occupying?” he asked the baby.

Storm had figured out she could scrub her fist across her lips and say, “Wabba wabba wabba.” So she did.

“I can pick up a few things,” Reid conceded over Storm’s babble and the roll of the pram across the pea gravel. He sounded conflicted, though. “Mom still doesn’t know about this joint-custody thing. As far as she knows, you’re doing all the work and I’m only here to crack the whip on the probate.”

“She’ll be upset?”

“Extremely.”

She studied his forbidding expression, heartstrings tugged by his divided loyalty. His mother or his sister? Both equally vulnerable.

He caught her look and frowned. “Don’t feel sorry for me.”

“It’s empathy. Family is hard.”

“Copy that. I heard your niece asking you when you were coming back when you were chatting with her the other day.” His side-eye asked for a more solid answer than the vague I’m not sure she’d given her niece.

Emma’s heart grew bruised as she recalled the conversation. “They were at my mom’s. It’s the only time I catch up with them. My brother and I aren’t speaking.”

“Why’s that?”

She wrinkled her nose. “He knew what Kevin was up to the whole time and didn’t think that was something I needed to know. We’ve never been very close. I’m a caregiver idealist and he’s a useless twat.”

“Why does that never come up on personality quizzes? There’s enough of them to warrant their own category.”

“Right? Instead, they always get visionary leader, and it just makes them more repulsive.”

He hung back a step. “I get visionary leader.”

“Don’t even try. You’ve never done a personality quiz in your life. Too frivolous, not enough science.”

“True.” His mouth twitched. “Might as well be reading your horoscope.”

“I read those, too. And I’ve done enough quizzes and polls and profiles to tell without looking that you’re a protector and a doer.” She parked the empty pram at the bottom of the steps to the Ocean View.

Reid stood beside her, studying her without laughing.

“What?” she prompted.

“Most people would call me a selfish materialist. Some have.”

Women? She crossed her arms, thinking those women hadn’t known what they had in him. She squinted against the reflection off a window on a boat, glinting in starbursts as the boat bobbed. It was a windy spring day, clouds breaking up to let in blasts of sunshine.

“Some called me a needy joy-sucker,” she confessed, deeply fearful it was true.

“Tell me again why you moved to Canada?”

“Thank you.”

“Quit doing those quizzes. You have a great personality.” He let a beat pass, then added, “No, I’m serious. You do.”

He was teasing her, which was so unexpected and sweet she forgot to play along with a dropped jaw of mock insult. She stood there in the shade of the building, silent laughter filling the air between them as their gazes locked. A swell of happiness rose within her. This, she thought. This is what I want.

The door to the lodge opened. Cameron, one of the contractors, poked his head out and said, “Reid. I was coming to look for you.”

Emma swallowed and her cheeks stung lightly as she followed him into what would be the reception area. It was tucked between the stairs to the upper floor and the hallway to the two suites on this floor.

“I’ll take her so you can talk,” Emma offered.

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