Page 52 of Worst Nanny Ever
“I’m going to make dinner.”
“I’ll just go get the fire extinguisher,” I say, taking a step toward my room.
She shoves a hand at my arm, her fingers curling around it for just a second before she pulls away. We exchange a loaded look.
“We could all cook together?” I suggest.
“Really?” Ollie says, more excited than I thought he’d be. “You’ll let me use a knife?”
“Absolutely not,” I say. “But you can rinse off the vegetables.”
“And what will we be making with those vegetables, pray tell?” Hannah asks.
I grin at her. “Stir-fry.”
She pokes me in the chest, her touch sending a sizzle through me. “You,Mr. Sir, are a hopeless case.”
Probably for the best if she thinks so, but I’ll be damned if it isn’t fun cooking together. With all three of us crowding the kitchen, it feels lived-in. This big house is a home in a way it never was with just me and my drum kit.
We sit down to dinner. Ollie’s way more talkative than he ever is when it’s just the two of us, and tells us all about Mickey’s latest crimes and the evaluation tests Mrs. Applebaum’sbeen giving him. He’s not a fan of those, but he is excited about bringing the donuts to class tomorrow.
After we eat, Hannah and I deal with the dishes while Ollie reads in his room.
“You know he’s probably playing on his iPad in there,” she says as she hands me the last fork to put in the dishwasher.
I shrug. “Maybe. Let’s let him feel like he’s getting away with something. I always make sure it’s out of his room at night.”
“Good thinking. I’d better head home. I promised Briar I’d watchMatchmaking Small Town Americawith her.”
“The French kissing show?” I ask, shutting the dishwasher so I have something to do with my hands.
“Yes.” She grins. “You must have really enjoyed that part. You’ve mentioned it twice now.”
I glance at the exit to the back hallway, and seeing no signs of Ollie, I say in an undertone, “No, I just liked the kissing part.”
“I’ll let you watch it with me sometime if you’re lucky.”
“Then I’ll be sure to never get lucky.”
She laughs, her eyes dancing with humor. “Why don’t you circle back and consider what you just said there.”
“I’m going to pretend I did it on purpose to make you laugh.”
She smiles and surprises me by leaning in for a hug. I hug her back tentatively, drawing in her scent, and she whispers in my ear, “Good luck with the donuts tomorrow.”
I pull back with an impressive force of will. “Thanks. I’m pretty sure I’ll need it. This morning Mrs. Applebottom—Jesus, you’ve got me doing it. Anyway, she told me that I have very interesting parenting methods.” I pause. “I’m going to want to hear all about your meeting with Eugene, obviously.”
She smiles at me. “I was hoping you’d say that. Text me when you’re ready to go shopping.”
Look at that. She just gave me permission to text her socially again. Something tells me I’ll be abusing that.
On Friday morning,Ollie and I pick up the goods at Vortex Donuts, and I drive him to school, the sweet scent filling the car. When I park in the lot, he stays put, gazing out of the window.
“Actually, this might be a bad idea, Travis. It’s probably only going to make things worse with Mickey. What if he hates donuts?”
“It’ll be great. Even if he hates donuts, this little Mickey—” I swallow the wordasshole,“—kid will realize you’ve got people in your court.” I pause. “What’s he look like anyway?”
“He has brown hair, and he wears a lot of T-shirts.”
