Page 30 of Nanny for the Firefighter

I giggle slightly as Mom stands up from the table and wraps her arms around my head and neck for a hug.

“I missed you, sweetie, and I hate that you had to go through all that bullshit with Jai. Just know that if you ever want to talk about it, about anything, I’m always here to listen. And to provide some encouragement.”

My eyes burn, and a tear trickles down the side of my nose, tickling. I’m quick to swipe it away.

“Jesus, Mom. It’s not even eight o’clock. It’s too early for this heavy of a conversation.”

She shrugs happily, straightening. “Hey, clock’s a-ticking, Bridget. There’s no time to put things off.”

My chest squeezes, and I feel the words perched on the tip of my tongue. I want to spill it all out on the floor for her.

Mom is amazing, and I know that she’ll take the news with grace. I could just tell her. I could let someone else in on the big secret about Jai and maybe get some help.

I hold her eyes, my words caught in my throat.

Knock, knock, knock.

We both glance toward the front door, and I sniffle up the last of my tears, wiping my face.

“I’ll get it. Go relax.”

With another easy grin, my mother kisses the top of my head and goes back to the stairs to head to her sewing room. I know she can’t do as much as she usually can, but being in there and finger-weaving the yarn seems to keep her happy.

Well, happier.

As I return my attention back to the knock, the pounding on the door rings out again in a resounding boom, and my heart leaps into my throat.

My pulse is rising by the second, and the familiar sour taste in my mouth starts up as the nervous energy claims my stomach and has me regretting eggs as my breakfast choice.

The knock seems so insistent, and my steps freeze, my body locking down on itself.

I’m just standing there at the threshold of the kitchen and the living room, staring at the door.

Is it Jai? Oh, God. He couldn’t possibly have found me. Right? I mean, it’s only been a few days. How on earth would he have gotten here so fast. He’s supposed to be on the west coast, for Christ’s sake.

Another knock and I jump, nearly stumbling off my feet. My vision tunnels, and I slowly approach the door.

Reaching out, my hand is shaking, and all I want to do is run for my mother and get the hell out of here.

“Honey, are you going to answer that?”

My mother’s voice calling from up the stairs makes me yelp again, wincing in place, and I know I can’t ignore the knocks anymore.

Okay, if it’s Jai, just run. Run, Bridget. You lead him away from your mother and go…somewhere.

The knob against my palm feels stiff and cold, but I give it a slow turn. As I crack open the door, a tiny voice squeaks out.

“Hello? Mrs. Monroe? I’ve got the delivery.”

I sink into myself as the voice settles over me, distinctively not Jai’s. I pull the door wider, and I see a charming elderly gentleman wearing a kind smile.

My entire body sags, and I sigh out a long breath.Just the grocery guy.

“Oh, hello, young miss,” the man says, holding out a paper bag while two more rest near his feet, “are you helping Mrs. Monroe?”

Nodding, I give him a polite smile and take the bag. “Yes, sorry I took so long. I’m Bev’s daughter, Bridget.”

The man’s eyes brighten. “Oh, well, hi there. I’ve heard her talk about you. And no worries about the door. I take my fair share of time answering mine, too.”

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