Page 7 of Mistletoe & Magic
Now the dishes are done, the counters are sparkling, and the floor is crumb-free. And there’s a plate in the fridge labeled in Junie’s handwriting because she insisted on adding a heart and a skull next to it. Just picturing Remy coming home is making me super nervous.
The house is glowing and cozy. I lit a brand-new candle I bought in town at one of my favorite witch shops as soon as thekitchen was spotless. Cinnamon, fir, and clove, with just a little enchantment woven into the wax. This house needs all of the magic it can get right now to bring it back to life. It flickers on the kitchen island now, casting a soft light across the room. The overhead lights are off, with only lamps to make it warm and golden.
Junie’s curled up next to me on the couch in fuzzy socks and Christmas pajamas covered in dancing narwhals. She brushed her hair, and it’s still damp from her bath. She brushed her teeth, and her face smells like bubblegum toothpaste and lavender soap.
We’re watchingThe Grinch, and she’s quiet. Not because she’s tired, but because she’s relaxed. Just the way every little kid should feel after a long day at school with a yummy dinner in her belly.
I wrap the blanket tighter around us and rest my cheek against the top of her head. Her body melts into mine like she’s been waiting all day for this exact stillness.
Outside, snow falls in soft, steady flakes, coating the trees and the porch swing and the truck parked in front. Everything is hushed and wrapped up.
I breathe in the scent of her hair and the candle and the casserole still lingering in the air. Home. Yes, that’s what this feels like. I had this at my house growing up.
This house felt cold when I got here. Not just in temperature, but in spirit. Like it was waiting for something. Or someone. Now? It feels better.
What would make it even better is if we decorated for Christmas.
I didn’t mean to fall asleep on his couch. Really. My eyes are just resting, that’s all. I feel like I’ve lived a dozen lives today, starting out in the Boston townhouse. And honestly, despite how it began, it ended up being a great day. Things feel a lot better now.
The house is quiet now. Junie went down easy after the movie, her tiny voice sleep-slurred with dreams and pirate songs. I read her three picture books. Okay, probably more like five. I can’t say no to reading to a kid. And then she curled into her blanket with her stuffed narwhal and whispered, “Can you stay forever, Ivy?”
She said it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
That part might’ve been what made my heart swoon a little. Okay, a lot. And it caught me off guard. I brushed a curl out of her eyes and told her, “Let’s get through this first week, okay?”
I think I passed out somewhere between “I’ll just rest for a sec,” and “I wonder if Remy has ever actually smiled.”
Now the room is darker, the candle still flickering. My hand loosely clutches my phone. I blink against the fuzziness of sleep and stretch my legs before I realize something feels different. Someone is watching me. Someone tall and quiet. Someone who smells like snow, pine, and something sharp and clean and male.
I sit up with a small gasp, nearly dropping my phone. My heart jolts like a firework.
Remy Bennett is standing inside the kitchen, big and broad in every way. I knew he’d be home at one point, but nothing prepared me for the actual moment of us coming face to face. Alone in his house in the dark, at night.
He looks like a woodsy romance novel cover come to life. Flannel sleeves rolled to his forearms, jaw shadowed with end-of-the-day scruff. His hair is messy and windblown, andhe’s looking at me like he’s trying to solve a problem he didn’t know existed until he opened his front door.
“What are you doing here?” His voice is rough and low. “Where’s my mom?”
I blink, my mouth opening slightly before my brain catches up. “She said she had deadlines, and that you knew I was starting today. Which I can tell that…you obviously did not.”
His brow furrows. He stares like he’s not sure if I’m real or just part of a really inconvenient dream.
“What exactly did she tell you?” he asks, as if still catching up.
“She said today was my first day as your new nanny,” I reply, standing now. My joints pop, and I smooth my shirt down over my leggings nervously. “Said you needed someone, and she was behind on her book.”
“She hired you to be my nanny?” He looks surprised, with a flash of irritation in his eyes.
“Pretty much. It was more of a classic Donna drive-by. One minute I’m in Boston with Derek, the next minute I’m up here with Junie. She said you wanted me.”
That earns me a flicker of something on his face, but it passes quickly.
“As your nanny, I mean,” I reply nervously.
Geez, Ivy, get it together. He definitely doesn’t want me. I’m not sure he’s even an actual human. More like a grumpy cyborg.
He steps farther into the living room, glancing toward the hallway. “She’s asleep?”
I nod. “Out cold. Brushed teeth, bedtime stories, the full shebang. She was a champ. You’ve got a great kid, Remy.”
