Nanny for the Millionaire's Twins

By: Susan Meier



 Chance pulled his keys from his jeans pocket again. He caught Tory’s gaze. “Watch the kids.”

 She nodded, as relief washed over her. Hopefully, he and his mom would chitchat long enough that she could figure out a way to quit gracefully since their mothers were friends. He didn’t want her and she didn’t want to work for him. This wasn’t rocket science. But she also wouldn’t put her mom or Gwen in an uncomfortable position over a failed nanny assignment.

 After they left, Tory relaxed and roamed the cottage. She’d been so preoccupied with Chance and the cereal, that she hadn’t really taken a good look at the house. The three bedrooms were in the back, but the living space had an open floor plan. Standing in the yellow kitchen with maple cabinets, beige ceramic tile floor and brown and beige granite countertops, she could see the entire family room and the mini-library/reading area behind it. A table and chairs sat off to the left of the kitchen in a little space that looked like a sunroom because of all the windows.

 It was the perfect home for a young family—or newlyweds. She ran her hand along the granite countertop. She should be married right now. Living in a cute little house like this. Raising her own babies. But one day…one hour… No, one minute had changed everything. Instead of being married, being a mom, or having a career, she spent hours on end in a hospital room, talking to a fiancé who couldn’t talk back.

 She wasn’t even really sure he could hear her.

 Forcing herself out of her dark mood, she walked to the sitting area with the oversize leather sofa and recliners and big-screen TV, and turned in a circle. For a “cottage” this was unbelievable.

 “So now you’re dancing?”

 She spun to face Chance as he walked in the front door. “I was just exploring a bit.” Pressing her hand to her galloping heart, she tried to level her breathing. “I thought you were visiting with your mom.”

 “I’m not leaving my babies indefinitely with a stranger.”

 “I’m not a stranger. Our mothers are friends. Plus, I’ve been living with your mom, working with the household staff for a week.”

 “And one would think you would have learned your place.”

 She sucked in a breath. Oh, boy. The moment of truth. She might not have to figure out how to quit gracefully. He might fire her before she could.

 He motioned for her to sit on the sofa. “You and I need to talk.”

 Resigned, she walked over and sat on the couch as he’d requested.

 He plopped down on one of the recliners. “You crossed a line when you questioned me about the kids’ nap time.”

 She winced. “Technically, I didn’t question you. I said, ‘oh, dear.’”

 “Which is worse. You might as well have come right out and said, ‘Hey, Chance. You’re doing everything wrong.’”

 “Sorry.”

 “These are my kids. I’ve spent two weeks with them all by myself. And though I’m not perfect, I don’t want to be constantly reminded that I don’t always know what I’m doing.”

 Her head snapped up. He didn’t know what he was doing? He had twins and he didn’t know what he was doing?

 “I didn’t hire a nanny because I want my kids to be raised by me. But I’m willing to give you a shot because quite honestly I could use some help. Plus, I’m not staying here forever. Only for a visit.”

 Only for a visit? Her attention perked up even more. If he wasn’t staying forever, only for a visit, then this job was temporary. She wasn’t making a life decision or a life choice or even abandoning Jason. She was working temporarily.

 Giddy relief swamped her.

 “But I have to tell you, if you’re going to criticize me, we can end this right now.”

 With her situation in perspective, she studied him as all the puzzle pieces of his situation began to fall into place in her head. Gwen had told her that the twins’ mother had left his babies with him, saying she didn’t want them back—which explained his trust issues. He didn’t want a nanny. He wanted to raise these kids on his own. Admirable. But he didn’t know how. And because he was sort of failing he was supersensitive.

 He wasn’t a grouch. Just a supersensitive daddy who needed somebody to help him.

 Suddenly being that person didn’t seem so god-awful.

 “Are we clear?”

 Crystal. “Yes.”

 “Great.” Even as he said the word, one of the babies began to cry. He rose from his seat.

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