Page 15 of Beau Pair
“Here, let me try,” I say, and he scoots over.
Elsie finally lifts her head when I call her name and tries the first spoonful, but she pulls a face and doesn’t want any more.
“Come on, sweetie. It’s exactly the same as Mommy’s,” I tell her, but she won’t open her mouth. “She can be so stubborn sometimes. I hate the terrible twos. She’s so hot and cold with everything,” I turn around to tell Beau.
Beau nods with a smile but is staring at Elsie.
“Can I try something?” he asks, and I pass him back the food bowl.
He walks back to the kitchen island and takes some strawberries out of the fridge.
“She won’t eat them. She doesn’t like chunks in her food,” I warn him.
Beau takes a deep breath and nods but isn’t defeated. He cuts the stems of the strawberries then mushes the pieces until it looks like puree and adds it to the food.
When he brings it back and passes it over to me, the oatmeal looks pink and I taste it.
It’s a little tangy, but also sweet.
“What the hell,” I say, and put a half-full spoon to her lips, showing her the color, hoping it entices her to try.
She doesn’t open her mouth, but when I remove the spoon, she licks her lips and smiles.
“Moh,” she says, and I give her a spoonful.
She doesn’t hesitate at all, just opens her mouth and eats it.
I turn to look at Beau who’s watching with a wide, pleased grin.
“Well, I didn’t see that coming. So simple, why didn’t I think of that?”
Beau shrugs.
“I looked at loads of articles and forums about stuff when Gemima was being difficult. I’ve got lots of tricks up my sleeve,” he says.
Yeah, I can tell.
I will away the thoughts of him showing me histricksin bed. Now is not the time.
In fact, it’s never the time to lust after my au pair. Ever.
“I’ll get some bananas and blueberries on the way home, and I’ll try a different fruit every day. That way she’ll learn every day there’s a different surprise flavor. How are you with sugar? Would you be opposed to maple syrup?” he asks, and he’s got a certain sparkle in his eyes.
It looks good on him. But then again, it doesn’t take much for him to look good. He just… does.
He checks his phone briefly and then looks over to me.
“I’m gonna make myself some breakfast before we go. I assume you’ve already eaten?”
He walks over to the cupboards, gets a plate, and puts two slices of bread on it.
“Uhm, no. I haven’t. I usually eat after she does,” I tell him.
Unless she’s with Dolly, in which case I eat every day at eight.
“That’s a bad habit if you never eat with her. You should start eating at the same time,” he says.
“Well, I’ve tried, but then my food gets cold and it’s not pleasant,” I tell him.
