Page 43 of The Nanny's Homecoming

The minute she opened the front door, he knew something was wrong.

“You’ve been crying,” he accused.

She swiped an oversize sweater sleeve across her eyes. “I’m okay.”

“Right.” She didn’t look okay. He glanced past her into the living room. The furniture covers were gone, the room cleaned and smelling of lemon cleaner. “Did you get another phone call? Someone else harassing you?”

“No. Not exactly.” She looked over his shoulder, frowning toward the car. He’d expected her to get all bubbly when she saw the Mustang, to get excited and want a ride. “Where’s A.J.?”

“At his grandma’s house.”

“I missed him. I hope he has fun.”

He wanted to ask if she’d missed him, too. He’d certainly missed her. One day without her sunny presence and he couldn’t get her out of his head.

“I feel weird without him, too, but he’s gone only for tonight. Grandma and the aunties needed some A.J. time. I’m going back to Denver tomorrow.” He reached into his hip pocket. “Got us all some tickets to the ball game. Me, you, Macy and A.J.”

“Oh.”

Again, he’d expected excitement. She loved the Rockies. Instead, her “oh” sounded like distress.

A dozen thoughts shifted rapidly through his mental file system. She didn’t want to go with him. She didn’t want to be A.J.’s nanny anymore. She wanted him to get lost and not come back.

His good mood was fading fast.

All day, while he’d met with Manny and then the board of directors and during a client lunch, his mind had wandered to Clayton, and A.J.’s nanny. Manny had noticed his distraction, but he’d blamed the continuing issues at the mine. That was part of the problem. The other part was standing in front of him with a red nose and puffy eyes.

He’d prayed about her on the way back from Denver. Prayed and ask the Lord to give him platonic feelings for the nanny. By the time he’d pulled into the yard he’d decided to treat Brooke Clayton as a kid sister. A kid sister who was helping him mentor a ten-year-old girl. The idea made perfectly good sense. No mother wanted to let her little girl go off to ball games and parks with a single man. Having Brooke along solved any issues of impropriety.

This evening, though, his Lancelot gene kicked in. Something was wrong and he needed to fix it. “Want to come over for steaks?”

“I had a big lunch.”

“So come for the company. I want to run some ideas past you.”

A flame of interest sparked in her blue eyes, flickered and went out. She shook her head, blond hair catching the lights from room behind her. “I don’t think so, Gabe. Maybe we shouldn’t be seen together without A.J. or Macy.”

Gabe went very still. “What does that mean?”

She turned away from the door and went into the living room. He followed, examining the stab of hurt her comment had given him. She didn’t want to be seen with him?

“What’s going on, Brooke? Talk to me. I thought we were friends.” Yes, there you go. Friends. Brother and sister. Neighbors.

“This afternoon my cousin Marsha announced to the Cowboy Café that you and I are more than friends.” The expression on her face was pained, embarrassed.

“You mean, as in dating?” A bizarre, unbidden flame sparked in his chest. Dating? He and Brooke? Just as quickly the flame went out. From the look on Brooke’s face, the thought of dating a man his age was downright humiliating.

“No, as in—” Her gaze slid away from his. Red heat colored her cheeks.

Realization struck Gabe right between the eyes, harder than a falling boulder. She was talking about way more than dating. “As in an affair?”

Lips pressed tight, she nodded.

Anger stirred his blood. Someone had humiliated her because of him. “That’s why you’ve been crying, isn’t it?”

“I never meant drag to you into my family problems. You’ve worked hard to develop a good reputation in Clayton, but people love to believe the worst. This kind of thing, in a town this size, will hurt your business. Not to mention cause a lot of embarrassment. I’m so sorry.”

“That’s why you’re upset?”

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