Page 32 of Holiday Hire

I reach for my wallet and pull out my credit card. I hold it out, warning, "This is only for groceries. It's not for any shopping sprees with Willow."

It was supposed to be a joke, but it comes out sounding as awkward as everything else I say around her.

Her expression changes. In a stern tone, she replies, "That would be stealing. I've never been a thief and don't plan on starting anytime soon."

I sheepishly admit, "It was a joke since Willow wanted to go shopping. I didn't mean to offend you."

She stares at me, then releases a breath and smiles. "Okay. Sorry I took offense."

"It's okay. Sorry everything I say doesn't seem to come out right."

"It doesn't?" she questions.

Way to dig myself deeper in the hole!

I ignore her question and state, "I better get back to work. My mom will meet you near her truck." I exit the house before she can reply.

I rush toward the corral where Mason and Jagger are running two horses. A small dust cloud fills the area.

Jagger gives me the same cocky grin Wilder had on his face earlier. "How's it going with your lady friend?"

I smack the back of his head.

"Watch it!" he warns.

I spout, "She's not my lady friend."

"I'd make her mine if Mom handed her to me on a silver platter," Mason adds.

My hand automatically flies toward his head, but he ducks, laughing.

Jagger whistles. "She even looks good with wet hair."

I spin and watch her and the boys walk toward the truck. Mom's waiting near it with two lunch sacks.

Guilt eats me again.

I should be making those lunches.

I have to step up these next two months.

Once Phoebe gets groceries in the house, it'll be easier to restock,I lie to myself, knowing my work habits won't allow me to stick with my intentions.

Mason adds, "I wonder if she needs any help with the soap."

I turn and smack him a good one. His cowboy hat goes flying.

"Jesus!" he cries out.

I grab him by the shirt and yank him toward me, threatening, "Don't disrespect the boys' nanny."

"So you're keeping her?" Jagger asks.

I release Mason and answer, "No. She's here for the week. But regardless, she's the boys' nanny, not some floozy you'd pick up in town. You'll respect her, understand?"

Mason taunts, "You seem to have a soft spot for her now."

"No, I don't. You should know better than to disrespect a caregiver for your nephews," I reprimand.

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