Page 2 of Nanny for the Bodyguard
“So,UncleEaston?” Hazel raises her brows, and something about her expression makes it seem like she’s relieved.
But I’m sure I’m imagining things.
“Oh, yes. This is my niece, Jade. I’m, uh…”
“He’s taking care of me because my parents died.” Jesus, leave it to Jade to be so damn blunt.
“Oh no,” Hazel claps a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry, Jade. That has to be so rough.”
“Ha, you’re telling me.” I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but it sliped out. “Sorry, it’s just been quite the adjustment. Jade’s been with me for two weeks, and we’re still trying to figure everything out.”
Nodding, Hazel gives Jade and me a sympathetic look. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.”
The air is heavy and stagnant now, and while we’ve stepped to the side to allow other patrons through, I’m trying to block off the spilled ice cream with my feet.
“Why…umm, Jade,” I turn to my niece, “would you please go get some napkins to clean this all up?”
She sags a bit but then nods and hurries off toward the back counter to grab copious handfuls of napkins.
I stand there with Hazel, so many questions lingering on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t know where to begin, and being around her is wild.
I’m torn between the desire to yank her into my arms and kiss the ever-loving hell out of her or run in the other direction.
“You’re living here now?” It’s all I can manage.
“I am. It’s only been about a week.”
She’s fidgeting with the ring on her thumb, and I remember the habit as a sign of Hazel’s nerves.
“It’s kind of why I figured I’d have a bit longer before, umm, running into you.”
Hazel lets out a nervous chuckle, and I give it right back. Misery does love company, after all.
“Right. Sorry.”
If someone could yell “fire” right about now, that’d be great.
“And you, though. Your sister passed? That’s awful.”
I shrug, not sure what to do with the roiling waves of conflicting emotions. “Yeah, it’s been a hell of a change. I’m used to structure and discipline. From the military to private security, under my own management, my rules, my routine, all the time. Now? It’s…it’s a lot.”
Unsure why I’m still talking like this, the words just continue to spill out, and even though my thoughts are begging me to stop with the verbal diarrhea, I can’t seem to clam up.
It’s like now that the dam has opened, everything I’ve been holding in is flooding out.
Worse, it’s Hazel. I know it’s her. She always made me feel comfortable in a way that meant I couldn’t keep anything from her.
And apparently, that hasn’t changed.
“I barely spoke to my sister before she died, and now I have her kid. I have no idea what I’m doing, and I’m pretty damn sure everyone can tell. Especially Jade. And she’s so hot and cold. One minute, she’s smiling; the next, she’s screaming at me about something I did wrong. And I’m terrible at knowing what to say. The military doesn’t teach you how to empathize, you know?”
“But you came here with Jade as a treat, right? That’s nice.” Casting a glance past me, she smiles as my niece walks up with a metric shit-ton of napkins. “I come here a lot, too.”
I want to apologize or say something to make up for the fact that Hazel had to sit through all that, but Jade is walking up behind me. The moment’s gone.
“You do?” Jade asks, handing Hazel some of the napkins before crouching down to wipe up the floor. “Why? Don’t you have to work?”
“Jade!” I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You don’t have to answer that.”
