Page 62 of Architect's Christmas Nanny

She hurried out to the living room and gazed out the window.

The Christmas lights they had hung were on now, casting colorful shadows on the porch and a bit of the snowy lawn below. There were no deer outside, but the slight draft from the window cooled her heated cheeks and she paused a moment, just admiring the peaceful view before turning to head back to the kitchen.

She walked in as Brad was carrying a colander of cherry tomatoes from the sink back to the counter, and he popped one in his mouth, humming around it to the tune on the radio.

But that wasn’t right.

“You hate tomatoes,” she heard herself say.

He glanced up at her, looking a bit like a little kid who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“That was a tomato, right?” she asked, heading right over for him and automatically taking the colander from his hands.

Her fingers brushed his and she felt the same buzz of electricity that she had felt when he took her hand to lift her into the carriage earlier tonight.

“I don’t hate tomatoes,” he said, his gaze on her hands rising up to meet her eyes. “I never have.”

“Then why did you say…?” but she trailed off.

She already knew why.

“I liked you eating off my plate,” he said, his voice deep and rough with emotion. “I liked feeling like I was taking care of you, giving you a thing that was just for you, even if it was something so small.”

His words tugged at her heart as she thought back to every time they had sat down at the table and he had pushed his plate her way, watching her swipe his cherry tomatoes for the past nine years.

Suddenly, she realized how close they were standing, and her heart began to pound.

The next thing she knew, Brad was reaching down and cupping her face in his hand, gazing down at her with an intensity that could rival the sun.

She tried to tear her eyes from his dark gaze, but somehow they landed on his mouth.

“Jillian,” he murmured as he bent down.

Her heart stuttered as she realized he was going to kiss her. She could feel the heat of his palm against her cheek, and sense the longing in the way he said her name as it echoed around in her head.

Jillian…

“Jillian,”a little voice shouted from the front door as Moose exploded onto his feet and took off for the hallway.

For a moment, she couldn’t even understand what was happening, but the sound of boots clattering onto the wooden floor roused Jillian from her trance, and she pulled back instantly.

“You didn’t ask her yet, did you?” Josie yelled, sliding around the corner and almost crashing into the big dog. “Did you ask her? What did she say?”

“Josephine Williams,”Annabelle’s voice came from the hall. “Come back and take those wet boots off.”

“Sorry,” Josie muttered, scampering back to meet her grandmother as she emerged from the front hall.

“Are we early?” Annabelle asked with a smile, leaning down to pat the dog as Josie slipped off her boots and tossed them by the front door.

“Soup’s still in the oven, and I haven’t even started the steaks yet,” Brad replied, looking chagrined.

Jillian felt a pang of shame. Maybe they were dating now, but it didn’t mean that she and Brad should be all over each other. They had an impressionable young lady in the house.

And I probably shouldn’t be living in the house,she realized.

“Why don’t Josie and I take over so you and Jillian can have a cozy chat?” Annabelle offered.

Brad scowled, but nodded, his hand moving to his pocket and patting it as if he wanted to make sure he hadn’t lost his keys or something. That was odd, since they were just going to hang out while Annabelle and Josie cooked. And with the ice storm on the way, she didn’t think they were going anywhere.

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