Page 35 of Twisted Fate

“I just came in.” That was stretching the truth. I’d been here less than a minute, but I’d spent every second watching her shake her ass like a horny schoolboy. I’d come down here to grab a cup of coffee, not expecting her to be here this early.

“I’m making muffins,” she said, scooping out the batter and placing it into the paper-lined wells. “And a quiche,” she added, nodding to the pie dish atop the stove.

“What kind of muffins?” I asked, my interest piqued. It hadn’t taken me long to figure out that Delilah was an amazing cook. She confided in me once that she taught herself how to cook as a teenager. Her mom worked long hours, and she wanted to do something to help—plus she was tired of eating frozen TV dinners—so she watched countless YouTube videos and followed cooking accounts on social media to learn how.

These days, it seemed as though she’d made it her personal mission to make sure I ate. She succeeded. I’d put on ten pounds since she'd started working for me, despite working out more than I had been before she came along. I knew my increased energy and stamina was because of my improved nutrition. Pizza and protein shakes weren’t exactly a balanced diet.

“Triple berry,” she answered, sliding the muffin pan onto the oven rack followed by the quiche. She shut the door and set the timer before grabbing her mug of coffee. She leaned her hip against the counter and took a sip.

She seemed at ease as she drank, as though we hadn’t kissed like our lives depended on it, or that I’d told her nothing could happen between us after that. It was a little unsettling how calm she was. I expected her avoidance, not for her to show up early and bake muffins. I expected her to duck her head shyly and tuck her hair behind her ear like she so frequently did. Instead, she merrily went about her day, straightening up the kitchen, whistling as she did so.

I needed caffeine. My head was spinning from the sudden change in her demeanor. She went from dejected and sullen to chipper and carefree. What had happened in the past two days to change her entire mood?

I swallowed hard as a knot formed in my stomach. Had she met someone? Was that why she seemed so unfazed by the events of last week? Had I spent the entire weekend agonizing over rejecting her and ignoring my desires while she was spending time with another man? That prospect caused an ache to settle in my chest, an ache I didn’t have a right to feel. I pushed her away.Imade the decision not to let anything else happen between us. Whatever the consequences of that action were, I would have to deal with them.

Still, I couldn’t stop myself from opening my mouth and asking, “What did you do this weekend?” I tried to act casual as I lifted my cup to my lips and took a slow sip. Her mouth curved in a slow smile as she mirrored the motion.

“Went out with my friends,” she replied. I wanted to beg her to elaborate, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want her to know how interested I was in what she’d done, nor did I think I could handle the details if she confirmed my suspicions. “What did you and Charlie get into?”

“We picked out decorations for her birthday party.” Delilah’s face fell, her shoulders tensing, and I realized my mistake. She probably would’ve liked the chance to do that with Charlie.

“That’s nice. What did she pick?” She forced a smile but couldn’t hide the pain in her eyes.

“Mermaids.”

Delilah’s face lit up, and she straightened. “I love that.”

Seeing her excitement over the party theme gave me an idea. “I’m not sure I got everything we need, though. Do you care to take a look? And if there’s anything missing, could you pick it out for me?”

“Of course.”

It wasn’t that weneededany more decorations. We had the basics, but I wanted Delilah to feel included. Besides, this would be Charlie’s first birthday without her mother, and I wanted to go all out.

I gathered the supplies I'd purchased and spread them out over the kitchen table. “What do you think?”

She captured the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes skimmed over the decor. “It looks like you have everything youneed,” she said, holding out the last word.

“But…?”

“We can do better,” she replied with a sly grin.

“Get whatever you think she’d like.” She looked up at me, appreciation shining in her eyes. My breath caught as her eyes locked with mine, and I realized too late how close we were standing. I wanted to lean in, to brush the hair from her face and press my lips to hers. She looked at me like she wanted the same thing. I was so tempted. I wanted to forget everything—that she was the nanny, that getting involved with her would complicate things, and that she was Charlie’s biological mother—and throw caution to the wind.

I was half a second away from acting on those desires when the timer on the oven went off, and Delilah jumped, putting a little distance between us. It jolted me out of my haze, and I took a step back, scrubbing my hand over my face. I’d almost kissed her, something I swore I wouldn’t do. Why was she so damn hard to resist?

I could no longer blame it on her resemblance to Sarah. I was used to it by now, and since I’d seen her up close dozens of times, their differences had become increasingly noticeable. Delilah’s lips were fuller whereas Sarah’s had been more bow shaped. Sarah had a cute little upturned nose, but Delilah’s was slender and straight. The eyes were what made my brain short circuit. Their shape was exactly the same, but the color couldn’t be more different. Rich, dark brown versus piercing, cool blue.

Delilah was nothing like Sarah. She was her own person with her own personality, hopes and dreams, likes and dislikes. And now that I couldn’t blame my attraction on her similarity to my late wife, I had to face a hard truth: IlikedDelilah. I enjoyed her company and conversation. I looked forward to seeing her. Coming home from work every day no longer hurt like it used to. I took comfort in knowing she would be there when I walked through the door, and I found myself looking forward to seeing her.

Fuck. What was I going to do? I was falling for my wife’s cousin, and there was nothing I could do about it.

* * *

I was shakenby the revelation of my growing feelings for Delilah. There was no way I could act on them. Even though I felt like I could finally breathe again, that I wasn’t being crushed by the grief over losing my wife, I was still in mourning. It hadn’t even been eight months. Surely that wasn’t long enough. Anything less than a year seemed grossly inadequate. But yet…

No. I would stick to my guns. It was too soon. What would I tell Charlie? What would we tell our families? They would think I was rushing into a new relationship, and her parents would hate me for moving on so soon. I would have to stick to my original plan of keeping my distance. No more close encounters. No more accidental grazes or standing closer than necessary. No more temptation.

That was easier said than done. Delilah watched Charlie four days a week now, so she was always around. I did my best to remain cordial but made sure I didn’t give her the wrong impression. By Wednesday, she seemed to sense the shift. She was starting to avoid me too. I got a brief report on how Charlie’s day went, but there was no playful banter, no lingering smiles, or after dinner conversation. She simply grabbed her purse, kissed Charlie goodbye, and left.

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