A Celebration Christmas
Nancy Robards Thompson
Lily Palmer’s To-Do list
—Get Dr Cullen Dunlevy’s house—and foster kids—under control
—Stop the children from creating “potions” in the bathroom and putting rubber snakes in my candy
—Bake Christmas cookies together—as a family
—Stop thinking about Cullen’s—I mean, Dr Dunlevy’s—sexy dimples … and how cute he is with his children
—Hang the mistletoe—right where Cullen can see it …
—Decorate the tree with the kids to create the best holiday ever
—Have a forever family with the man—and family—of my dreams …
***
Celebrations, Inc: Let’s get this party started!
A Celebration Christmas
Nancy Robards Thompson
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Award-winning author NANCY ROBARDS THOMPSON is a sister, wife and mother who has lived the majority of her life south of the Mason-Dixon line. As the oldest sibling, she reveled in her ability to make her brother laugh at inappropriate moments, and she soon learned she could get away with it by proclaiming, “What? I wasn’t doing anything.” It’s no wonder that upon graduating from college with a degree in journalism, she discovered that reporting “just the facts” bored her silly. Since she hung up her press pass to write novels full-time, critics have deemed her books “funny, smart and observant.” She loves chocolate, champagne, cats and art (though not necessarily in that order). When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family, reading, hiking and doing yoga.
This book is dedicated to
Kathleen, Lori, Cindy, Kathy and Mary Louise.
Thanks for always being there.
Contents
Cover (#u0329df96-eeb7-558b-9eed-f339160b2fc9)
Excerpt (#u5d8d9216-7fcc-5578-91d3-f35a70ea9cab)
Title Page (#u8cb64353-f05a-54a7-b8ff-04764e367cd6)
About the Author (#uda96e668-3211-5876-a7b4-fb26e5bf305c)
Dedication (#u13f9e67b-14c9-557c-af2a-acb33b9851bc)
Chapter One (#uf5cd6358-724e-5f97-9858-d801d0d2ac54)
Chapter Two (#uc04b3094-af1e-57f3-b1db-602a953ddecf)
Chapter Three (#u00c258f7-2176-563c-bbf9-4cbe932fc5cb)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_0f229974-81f4-59af-b21d-bbe363844f1d)
Cullen Dunlevy had never begged for anything in his adult life, but right now he was desperate. “I’ll pay you triple your salary if you’ll stay for two more hours, Angie,” he said. “And you don’t have to clean up after the kids.”
“Dr. Dunlevy, there isn’t enough money in the world to make me stay.” Unmoved, the housekeeper brushed past him. She paused at the top of the stairs. “Call me when you find a home for them.”
A home for them? They’re kids, not stray animals.
Cullen glanced down at ten-year-old Megan Thomas. All the color had drained from her already pale cheeks. Then his gaze found its way back to the hall-bath toilet, which was overflowing with some kind of expanding blue goop that seemed to be growing exponentially. The prank had been the final straw, the reason for Angie’s noon phone call to Cullen at the hospital, informing him he had exactly one hour to get home because she was fed up and leaving.
What happened to the theory “it takes a village”?
Couldn’t Angie have a little heart? Sure, the four of them were unruly, but anyone with an ounce of compassion could see their disobedience stemmed from grief.
The kids had lost both their parents in a car accident. Their dad, Greg Thomas, had been Cullen’s lifelong friend. Given the lingering sting of his own grief, he couldn’t imagine what the kids must be going through. They were homeless and alone in the world except for each other. And they were at the mercy of the Texas Department of Family and Protective Services.
A pang of guilt coursed through Cullen. He had room for them in this big, empty house, but was that enough? Didn’t kids deserve two loving parents? He was married to a job that demanded sixteen-hour days. He worked and slept, only to get up day after day to repeat the routine. He didn’t know anything about raising kids. Hell, he’d thought he was doing the right thing by leaving them with Angie.
Obviously that had been a colossal mistake.
Standing there, alternating glances between Megan and the creeping blue foam, Cullen realized if he were any further out of his element he might sprout fins and gills and start flopping on the tile.
He swallowed an expletive and reminded himself that he might not be the best candidate to parent his friends’ children, but the one thing he could do to honor Greg and his wife, Rosa, would be to make sure the kids stayed together. The kids would live with him until he found the right family that would take all four of them.
In the meantime, he needed to convince Angie to stay just a little longer.
The kids ranged in age from five to ten years old. They were relatively self-sufficient. In other words, Angie wouldn’t be warming bottles and changing diapers. Just one more hour—give or take a few minutes—during which she could go on about her usual housecleaning duties, toilet-clogging blue foam exempted, while he interviewed Lily Palmer, the nanny candidate. At least Lily had agreed to change her schedule and move up their interview to one o’clock that afternoon.
Until he’d explained his dire straits, she hadn’t been free until the end of the week. At least she was flexible. Of course, he’d cushioned the story, telling her that his temporary child care had fallen through and he was in a pinch. There was no way he was going to scare her off with the gory details of pranks and temper tantrums. He prayed to God that she was right for the kids and available to start immediately.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Cullen,” said Megan. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. He’d known Megan and her brother and two sisters since birth. Hell, he’d known their father since the two of them were in kindergarten. Uncle Cullen was an honorary title that he didn’t take lightly, especially now that Greg was gone.
“I told George not to dump the potion in the toilet,” she continued earnestly.
Nine-year-old George was the second oldest after Megan, and he was conspicuously absent at the moment.
As chief of staff at Celebration Memorial Hospital, Cullen ran a tight ship and prided himself on being unshakable even in the face of the most horrific medical emergencies. However, after taking in Greg’s kids, Cullen had discovered he wasn’t as unflinching as he thought.
But wait—
“The potion?” Cullen asked, Megan’s words belatedly sinking in.
“Yeah,” said the little girl. “We like to pretend we’re scientists and the bathroom is our lab. We make potions out of all the things we find in there.”
He tried to remember where Angie stored the cleaning supplies that produced noxious fumes if mixed together—like bleach and ammonia.
“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” he said. “But it can be kind of dangerous. So you have to be careful. What did you mix together to make the potion expand like that?”
The girl had started to give him a laundry list of ingredients when Angie called from downstairs, “Goodbye, Dr. Dunlevy. I’m leaving now.”
He’d let her go downstairs to cool off a bit, hoping he could talk some sense into her. Or bribe her.
“Angie, please wait.”
He looked at the little girl. “I need to go apologize to Angie and try and talk her into staying. We’ll talk about the potion later. In the meantime, please don’t conduct any more chemistry experiments. And don’t flush anything else down the toilet. Will you please make sure your brother and sisters don’t, either? I’m counting on you, okay?”
Megan nodded and swiped at her tears. He ruffled her hair to show her he wasn’t mad at her. He was mad at the situation, but what else could he do except go down and plead with Angie?
He was so out of his league. But when he’d gotten Megan’s distress call three days ago, he’d had no choice but to bring the kids to live with him.
People could say a lot of things about Cullen Dunlevy, but no one could deny that he was a man of his word.
Six months ago, after Greg and Rosa’s funeral, it seemed as if the kids were settled. They were set to move in with a great couple. Dan and Carla, friends of Greg and Rosa, had agreed to take in the kids—all four of them. They’d promised to love them as their own. But then Carla had gotten sick. Terminally ill. In the weeks before the adoption was to become final, they had to back out.
No warning. No opportunity for Cullen to point out that he wouldn’t make a good guardian since he practically lived at the hospital. But he’d made a promise to Megan at her parents’ funeral. He’d told her if she needed anything—anything at all—she could call him and he’d be there.
When he’d made that promise, he’d intended anything at all to mean money, a ride, advice. He’d never imagined the little girl would call, asking him to give her and her brother and sisters a temporary home.
But she had called, and he intended to keep his word for as long as it took to find the kids a new adoptive family where they could stay together—all four of them.
Cullen swallowed bile as he headed toward the kitchen to try to sweet-talk Angie into staying until he’d had a chance to talk to Lily. He and the kids would sort out the blue mess in the bathroom and their behavior later.
“Angie, will you please just help me out today? I’m desperate. I need you. Just until after the interview. And maybe to show the nanny the ropes. Then you’re off the hook.”
When Cullen had asked Angie to watch the kids, she’d made it very clear that her schedule was full. She’d built a nice business cleaning house for many of the doctors and professionals at Celebration Memorial. In fact, she delighted in telling him she had a waiting list, which Cullen knew mostly consisted of single doctors who worked so many hours that they were never home to mess up their homes. Of course, dust fell and spiders spun webs whether or not a person was home.
Angie had found her niche. It was a pretty good gig. The only reason—besides the monetary incentive—she agreed to put in extra hours at Cullen’s house to babysit was that he was her original client.
He’d milked that for all it was worth. And then he’d made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. Now she was threatening to quit altogether.
Why should he be surprised? Had he ever been able to count on anyone?
“Please, Angie. Stay.”
With her purse on her arm, the harried fiftysomething woman sighed and shot him a pained look. The unspoken reality was that the four kids needed to be watched. Like a hawk. They wouldn’t sit quietly in front of the television or entertain themselves. In the three days they’d been at Cullen’s house, he’d discovered entertaining themselves produced foaming blue potions that clogged toilets and stained bathroom floors.
Angie, who had confessed that she didn’t like kids, had told him that while she had her eye on one or two of them, the others would be doing something behind her back.
“It’s a wonder they haven’t burned down the house,” she’d said. Until today, Cullen thought she’d been exaggerating.
“You don’t have to clean up the mess they made. I’ll deal with that. All I’m asking you to do is keep the kids occupied until after I interview Lily Palmer. Play a game with them. One hour at the most and then you can go. I promise.”
He wasn’t even going to think about what he might do if Lily didn’t work out or if she couldn’t start today.
Before Angie could answer, Cullen’s cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number. So that meant he had to answer it. Lily might be calling to say she was lost...or to cancel. Maybe he shouldn’t answer.
He was already pushing it by leaving the hospital in the middle of the day, asking his colleague Liam Thayer to cover for him. Thayer was the one who had recommended Lily. Cullen prayed to God that she was as perfect for the job as Liam’s wife, Kate, had promised.
“Please, Angie.” He was relieved when she heaved a resigned sigh and set her purse on the kitchen’s granite-topped center island.
“I need to take this call. Just play a game with them. Please. And thank you.
“Cullen Dunlevy,” he said as he made his way to his office, where he could still hear the doorbell if the nanny arrived while he was on the phone.
“Hey, Doc, it’s Max Cabot. Got a sec?”
Max was the contractor who was building the new pediatric surgical wing at the hospital. The entire Celebration community had rallied to raise money for this much-needed improvement to Celebration Memorial Hospital.
A door slammed in another part of the house. Cullen heard kids shrieking and laughing. Franklin the dog, who had come as a package deal with the kids, barked.
Had they been outside? Wasn’t it raining? Judging by the noise level, they were definitely inside now.
“Hold on, Max.” Cullen put his hand over the phone. “Hey, guys, can you keep it down, please? I’m on the phone. Play a game with Angie. Play that new Monopoly game we just bought.”
His words were lost in the cacophony and the sound of running feet—like a herd of stampeding buffalo. He shook his head.
“Max, I have to call you back, buddy. This is not a good time. I have...a situation here, and I have an appointment that should arrive any minute.”
“No problem,” said Max. “If you’re at home, I’m going to drop by some documents for you to review. I won’t stay. It’ll just be a drop and run.”
Before Cullen could answer, Angie’s voice screeched above the kid noise and the barking dog. “Get down! Get off me. You nasty mutt. You stink. Ugggh!” She made a guttural sound like an angry bear. “What is this? What did that dog get on my pants? Get him out of here before I open the front door and put him out myself!”
What the hell?
The dog’s bark had changed to a protective growl.The kids were all talking at once. One of them started crying as Angie continued her nasty-dog tirade.
Cullen put his hand over his free ear as he walked toward the kitchen to make sure Angie and the kids hadn’t come to blows. “Good, Max. See you soon. I have to go.”
Cullen hung up the phone and hurried into the kitchen.
“What’s wrong?” Cullen asked. “Why all the noise?”
Angie had a wet paper towel in her hand and was dabbing at something brown and suspicious on the thigh of her khaki pants. The wet dog, a shaggy black Heinz 57 variety, had taken a protective stance and continued his growl-bark at Angie. Hannah, the youngest of the four kids, was sobbing into her hands. “You can’t put him out front. He’ll go away just like Mommy did.”
The middle girl, Bridget, put her arms around her little sister and hugged her. “Don’t worry, Hannah. I won’t let her do anything to Franklin.”
Angie looked over at Cullen with crazy eyes. “I did not sign up for this.” Her hand made a sweeping gesture. “This dog has ruined my new pants with his filth and he’s tracked up the floor I mopped. You’re going to have to clean that up yourself along with the blue mess, Dr. Dunlevy, because I quit. I’m out of here.”
She tossed the wadded paper towel into the garbage, grabbed her purse and speed-walked out of the kitchen toward the front door.
“Good! I’m glad she’s gone,” said George. He punctuated his declaration with a loud raspberry.
Oh, for the love of all things holy. “Angie, wait, please. Send me a bill for the pants. I’ll replace them.”
One hand on the door, she paused and looked back. “They cost ninety-five dollars. You can include it in my final paycheck, which you may mail to my house.”
Ninety-five dollars? Was she kidding? Who wore expensive pants to clean a house? Of course, with her cushy gig, she didn’t have to get her hands—or her pants—very dirty. Angie was all about making the most money expending the least amount of energy.
He and his colleagues were the ones who paid her.
Who was the smart one in this scenario?
Angie opened the door and nearly missed running head-on into a perky blonde who stood there smiling, one hand raised as if to knock on the door.
Lily Palmer? Had to be.
One look at her sparkling green eyes and her dimpled smile and Cullen had to fight the urge to hire her right on the spot. She looked like a blonde angel backlit by a ray of sunshine that had finally broken through the gray storm clouds.
As the sound of bickering kids trailed through the half-open front door, he wondered if he could interview her on the front porch and not let her inside until she had taken an irrevocable pledge to work as a nanny for the month of December, which was the length of time she was available to nanny.
God, please don’t let the kids run her off the same way they sent Angie packing.
“Hello,” she said. Her smile didn’t falter and the sparkle in her green eyes didn’t fade despite the unwelcoming sounds coming from the house and the figurative horns and fangs that Angie sported as she stood next to Lily on the front-porch step.
“I’m Lily Palmer. I’m looking for Dr. Cullen Dunlevy. I’m here to interview for the nanny position.”
“I’m Cullen Dunlevy.” That was when he noticed that her eyes weren’t just green; they were flecked with gold and her full lips were...stunning. For a fleeting moment he wanted nothing more than to taste those lips, but he mentally shook away the inappropriate thought.
This wasn’t a speed-dating interview.
He needed her.
Uh— He needed her to watch the kids. He’d be wise to keep himself in check.
Angie laughed. It was a bitter sound.
“I have two pieces of advice for you, Lily Palmer,” she said. “Run while you can. Run and save yourself.”
* * *
Lily looked at the shockingly handsome man who had answered the door and then back at the frazzled-looking middle-aged woman, who made a snorting sound as she turned away from them and virtually jogged toward the driveway.
“Have I come at a bad time?” Lily asked.
She could hear a barking dog and children’s voices somewhere behind the half-open front door. The sounds were temporarily eclipsed by the cranking engine of the woman’s sports car.
Dr. Dunlevy smiled sheepishly. A dimple winked at her and his hazel eyes shone with boyish charm. Were they hazel or green? She resisted the urge to stare.
“Actually you couldn’t have arrived at a better time. I’m sorry about all of this.” He held out his hands, palms turned toward the gray sky. “Just so you know, Angie wasn’t here applying for the job. Actually she was my housekeeper. Emphasis on the was. She just quit. I hope that won’t scare you off.”
Lily glanced over her shoulder in the direction of where the woman’s car had been parked. “Well, no. I teach second graders during the school year. I don’t scare that easily. Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”
If she didn’t need this job so badly, she might admit that Angie’s exit did concern her just a wee bit. But the private school where Lily taught was closed for the entire month of December—for family ski trips and holiday celebrations. Having a month off was a nice perk for the privileged, but for those who needed money, the unpaid vacation was a hardship.
When she’d heard that Dr. Dunlevy, who worked with the husband of her friend Kate Thayer, was looking for a temporary nanny, it sounded like the perfect job. Especially when she learned he was paying two and a half times what she could earn working a temporary seasonal retail position. She wouldn’t let a disgruntled former employee and a barking dog scare her off.
She swallowed her apprehension.
“I guess you really do need extra help,” she said.
“You can say that again. Let’s go inside. I need to check on the kids. You can meet them, and then we can start over.”
Dr. Dunlevy pushed open the door and motioned her inside. He was tall and much younger than she had imagined when Kate had explained the sad situation—that the kids’ parents had died in a car accident and the family that was supposed to adopt them had to back out at the last minute. Lily had envisioned Celebration Memorial’s chief of staff to be...older and distinguished. But not quite so tall, broad shouldered and good-looking.
She leaned her umbrella against the porch rail and stepped into the foyer. Loosening her scarf, she used the opportunity to take a good look around. Nice place. From the foyer, Lily could see into the living room. It was a bit on the cold and formal side for her taste, but it was nicely done. The high ceilings made the large room, with its stark white walls and modern art, gray marble floors and light-colored leather furniture, look even more expansive. The place definitely had a decorator’s touch, and it looked utterly unlived in. It reminded her of the cold, formal feel of a modern museum she’d visited on her senior class trip to New York City. It was interesting to look at, but she couldn’t imagine getting comfortable in a place like this. She certainly couldn’t imagine young children living here. Not with all this white and glass. It would show every little smidgen of dirt, but it wasn’t her place to judge.
Lily caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. When she looked closer, she saw a small girl with dark, curly hair, who couldn’t have been any older than four or five, huddled in the corner by the sofa. She had her arms around a big, black wet-looking dog, who sat panting patiently, letting the little girl hug him.
Lily touched Dr. Dunlevy’s arm and gestured with a slight nod of her head in the girl’s direction.
“That’s Hannah,” he said and turned his attention to the child. “What are you doing, Hannah? Are you okay?”
The girl didn’t answer but seemed to tighten her hold on the dog’s neck.
“Hannah, will you come over here, please?” His voice sounded as if he was purposely trying to infuse a smile into it. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
The girl gave a quick shake of her head and buried her face in the dog’s shaggy back. Dr. Dunlevy looked at Lily and gave an exasperated shrug. He looked exhausted. Lily held up a finger and then walked over to the girl.
“Hi, Hannah, I’m Lily. When I was about your age, I used to have a dog that looked an awful lot like yours. Mine was named Scout. What’s your dog’s name?”
Hannah remained silent and sullen. Lily sat down on the edge of the couch nearest the girl and the dog. She reached out a hand and let the dog sniff it. He licked her and Lily took that as an invitation to give him a scratch behind the ears.
“You’re a good dog, aren’t you?” Lily cooed. He was a little smelly, emitting an odor of eau de wet dog, but he was definitely a gentle animal.
“His name is Franklin,” the girl said in a small, shaky voice. “Will you protect Franklin from Angie? Angie said she was going to put him out in the front yard. She wants him to go away like my mommy did.”
Lily’s heart tightened. She slanted Cullen a concerned, questioning look. He knit his brow and gave a quick shake of the head.
“Hannah, she didn’t mean it,” he said. “Angie was just upset because Franklin got mud on her new pants. We’re not going to let anything happen to your dog. I promise.”
“I don’t like Angie.” Hannah was crying. “She’s mean.”
“Oh, honey, please don’t cry.” Lily took a chance and reached out and smoothed a dark brown curl off the girl’s tearstained cheek. Hannah didn’t pull away. “Did you hear what Dr. Dunlevy said? We promise you no one is going to make Franklin go away. If they try, they’re going to have to tangle with me.”
Lily knew she shouldn’t speak for the man who hadn’t even hired her yet or talk as if she’d be around to protect the girl. But the poor child was overwrought. She’d lost her parents and her adoptive family, and now she feared she’d have to give up her dog. She must be confused and petrified. With or without permission—or the job—Lily felt it her duty to reassure the little girl.
Franklin licked Lily’s hand again.
“Franklin says he likes you,” Hannah said, peeking up at Lily through long, thick, wet lashes.
“Well, I like him, too.” As Lily smiled at Hannah, she heard young voices coming from the other room.
“The other children are in the family room,” said Dr. Dunlevy. “I’d like you to meet them, too.”
“Hannah, would you like to come and introduce me to your brothers and sisters?” Lily asked.
The girl shook her head. “I only have one brother. One brother and two sisters.”
“Thank you for letting me know,” Lily said. “I think Franklin needs you now. So Dr. Dunlevy can introduce me to the others. But it was very nice meeting you. I hope to see you again.”
Hannah didn’t answer. She buried her face in the dog’s back. As Lily turned and followed Dr. Dunlevy into the kitchen, she heard the sound of a slamming back door and then stillness settled over the house. The kids must’ve gone outside.
She could see from the kitchen through to the family room. The far wall was made up of tall windows, but from her vantage point, she couldn’t see outside where the kids might have gone.
Since Dr. Dunlevy didn’t seem concerned about their whereabouts, she took the opportunity to admire the kitchen. With its stainless-steel appliances and light-colored granite, it had the same sleek, unlived-in feel as the foyer and living room. But then she saw the six-burner gas range and the double oven. She immediately had appliance envy. How many holidays had she and her grandmother talked about the virtues of a kitchen with two ovens? It was a fantasy, like something reserved for television shows featuring dream homes and other places far beyond her reality.
“This is a great kitchen,” she said, smoothing her hand over the tiger-eye granite. “Do you cook?”
“Me?” Dr. Dunlevy laughed. “No. Other than using the refrigerator and the espresso machine—” he pointed to a fancy built-in coffeemaker with an array of spouts, nozzles and handles “—I’ve never used any of the appliances in here.”
Lily had to consciously keep herself from sighing. He must’ve seen the envy in her eyes.
“Do you cook?”
“I do. You might say that food is my favorite hobby.”
Standing there with his hands on his hips and his head cocked to one side, he seemed to size her up for a minute. He really was a good-looking guy.
“You’re more than welcome to cook for me anytime,” he said.
The suggestion made her stomach perform an odd dip. She desperately hoped her face didn’t betray her.
“I can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal.”
Ah. Okay.
There it was. It wasn’t an invitation to cook for him. Of course it wasn’t. Still, for a moment, Lily imagined what it would be like to cook dinner for a handsome man like him in a kitchen like this. Simultaneously, she felt irresistibly drawn to the idea and impossibly out of her element.
“The kids and I have been eating a lot of pizza and takeout since they arrived. Before they got here, I ate most of my meals at the hospital.”
She blinked away the ridiculous image of dining with the handsome doctor over a candlelit meal she’d whipped up in this dream kitchen. Good grief, she was his employee. Actually she wasn’t even that. He hadn’t even offered her the job yet. She needed to remember her place and stay focused on what was important. She couldn’t let her mind wander to places it had no business going. So what if he was a handsome man? So what if he had a nice smile and great eyes? If he hired her, her focus would be on the children.
From the kitchen, she followed him into the large family room that looked a little more comfortable than the rest of the house. It had warm wooden floors and an overstuffed sofa arranged across from two masculine-looking leather club chairs. A massive wooden coffee table anchored the grouping. On the wall to her right, a huge flat-screen TV loomed above a fireplace. The windows on the far wall overlooked a nice fenced-in backyard. She could see it better from here and finally caught her first glimpse of the other three kids.
“While Megan, George and Bridget are playing out back, why don’t we talk for a few minutes and then I’ll introduce you to them?”
Lily watched the trio running around the yard, playing what looked like a game of tag. At the moment, the kids showed no traces of sadness. Still, her heart broke for them. She hadn’t been much older than they looked when her own parents were killed in a car accident. Her one silver lining had been that her maternal grandmother had taken her in and raised her. Her mother had been an only child. So she and her grandmother shared more of a mother-daughter relationship, filling the void for each other the best that they could. At least they’d had each other until she’d died. She’d been gone almost two years now.
Lily had always felt loved and safe and wanted with her. Dr. Dunlevy obviously cared about the well-being of his charges, but she couldn’t help wondering what the kids must be going through. To be so young and dependent.
Or maybe the innocence of youth protected them? She hoped so.
Lily settled herself on the edge of the sofa. Dr. Dunlevy sat across from her on the closest chair. With his elbows on the armrests, he steepled his fingers and gazed at her for a moment, as if he were collecting his thoughts.
Finally he said, “Lily Palmer, I’m glad you don’t scare easily. Please tell me you know how to make order out of chaos.”
She sat up straighter, unsure how to answer that question.
He laughed. “Even if you don’t, you come highly recommended.”
“That’s very nice to know.”
She held up a finger. “I have a résumé for you.” She slid a folio out of her shoulder bag and retrieved a résumé and list of references. He gave it a once-over.
“Have you had any experience as a nanny in the past?”
“Actually I haven’t. No nanny experience per se, but as I said, I’m a second-grade schoolteacher.”
“I suppose that’s like being a full-time nanny to a bunch of kids,” he said.
She nodded. “Pretty much.”
“Let’s see,” he said as he continued to read the rundown of her career history. Suddenly, he put down the paper. “What would you do with four spirited kids? How would you care for them?”
“I would keep them busy, of course. But first you and I would need to discuss your expectations for them.”
Cullen nodded and rubbed his temples. “I’m glad you brought that up. I’m not going to lie. They’re a handful. They’re good kids. Their father was my best friend. But since the loss of their parents, they seem to be working through their grief by acting out. They are the reason my housekeeper quit.”
“I’m very sorry for your loss. The loss of your friend, I mean.”
Of course he knew what she meant. He wouldn’t think she was consoling him over the loss of his housekeeper.
Would he?
Ugh. She felt her cheeks heat. Why was she suddenly so nervous?
Her words hung in the air between them for a few awkward beats.
“Thank you. The kids seem to be resilient, but they have been a challenge. I wanted to be up-front with you about it. It’s better that I tell you exactly what to expect than to have you walk out on us like Angie did.”
Lily squinted at him. “What do you mean, Dr. Dunlevy?”
“Please call me Cullen. There’s no need for formalities.”
“Okay. Cullen. Did Angie interact with the children?”
“As little as possible. Her main objective was to come in and do her housework. She was my housekeeper for a number of years. With the kids here, it was difficult.”
“No disrespect to Angie—I’m sure she’s great at what she does,” said Lily. “But in my experience, when a child acts up, it’s usually a sign that he or she is looking for attention. I would imagine that the kids feel displaced and frightened after losing their parents. I would keep them busy doing fun activities. When kids are busy, they don’t have a lot of time to get into trouble. And they tend to sleep better at night because they’re tired.”
“Would you be willing to get out in the yard and run around with them like that?” He hiked a thumb toward the windows.
“Absolutely. Unless it’s too cold or the weather is bad. And then there are lots of things we can do inside, like holiday baking and decorating for Christmas.”
She noticed the lack of decorations in his house. It was only December first, and yes, it was still early for some people to decorate. But it had been a tradition in her family to deck the halls the Saturday after Thanksgiving.
“Would you mind if the kids decorated for the holidays?”
“I can’t remember the last time I even put up a tree,” he said. “I guess the kids will want one since they’ll be with me until the New Year, if that long.”
“Are they going somewhere after that?”
Cullen raked a hand through his hair and looked a little unsettled. “They’re not living with me indefinitely. It just wouldn’t be fair to them. That’s why I only need a nanny for a month. It may not even be that long if the attorney I’m working with is able to find a family willing to take them in. I want to keep them together. After all they’ve been through, it wouldn’t be right to split them up. Of course, if you agree to take the job and the attorney comes through before the end of the month, I’ll pay you through the end of December. That’s only fair.”
Attorney?
“Those poor kids.” The words escaped before Lily could contain them.
Cullen drew in a deep breath and let it out. He seemed to be weighing his words.
Finally he said, “I know it’s not ideal, but I’m not married and sometimes I work eighty hours a week. Kids their age need a family to care for them. As much as I hate the thought of shuffling them around, placing them in a good stable environment with a traditional family will be better for them in the long run. The agency is working hard to keep them together, but we’re racing against a deadline. They have to go back to school after the first of the year. It would be less disruptive for them to start at their new school than to have them start here and transfer somewhere else.”
“They don’t have any family who can take them?”
“If they did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Those poor kids have dealt with so much loss at such a young age. To be all alone, except for each other...”
The back door banged open and a cacophony of voices and running feet put an abrupt end to Lily and Cullen’s conversation.
Cullen’s gaze locked with Lily’s. He seemed to be asking, Are you on board?
She nodded.
He smiled, then called to the kids, who had blown right past them on their way to the kitchen. “Megan, George, Bridget, please come here. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
The three of them walked back into the room and stood in front of Lily and Cullen. They cast suspicious, sidelong glances at Lily and then back at each other. Looking more subdued than they had when they were out in the yard, they seemed to be communicating in their own silent language.
Cullen introduced the children. “Please say hello to Ms. Palmer. We’ve been talking about the possibility of her being your nanny while I’m at work.”
“I’m almost eleven years old,” said Megan. “I don’t need a nanny. I can babysit George, Bridge and Hannah. Mom used to let me do it all the time.”
“She did not,” cried George. “Don’t be a liar.”
Megan gave her brother the stink-eye. George clamped his mouth shut and stared at his shoes.
“I’m not lying.” Megan sounded a lot older than a typical ten-year-old. Losing both parents made you grow up fast, Lily knew from experience. “I’m just saying, we don’t need a babysitter.”
“Well, I don’t babysit,” said Lily. “So I think we’re okay. We can just hang out.”
“Hang out?” Megan scoffed.
“Yes,” said Lily. “Don’t you like to hang out?”
Before Megan could answer, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” said George. He sprinted out of the room before anyone could protest. Cullen hadn’t been joking when he’d said the kids were spirited...well, except for Bridget. She hadn’t uttered a single word since they’d met.
“Excuse me,” said Cullen. “I’m expecting someone. I’m sorry about the interruption. Everything seems to happen at once around here. It’s a new way of life.”
He smiled and Lily liked the way his eyes creased at the corners. At least he had a sense of humor.
“Continue to talk and get to know each other. I’ll be right back.”
Lily nodded. It would be good for them to have a few minutes of girl time.
“How old are you, Bridget?” Lily asked.
“She’s seven,” Megan answered. “George is nine and Hannah, who you haven’t met, is five. She’s the baby.”
“I met Hannah when I first arrived,” Lily said. “She was in the living room having some quiet time with Franklin.”
“I’m the oldest,” Megan underscored.
“And I’ll bet you’re a very good big sister.”
Megan didn’t smile, but the compliment seemed to soften her demeanor a bit.
Lily heard Cullen and the voice of another man. Their tones were low and muffled. Whatever they were talking about sounded important. She wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but she was trying to get a sense of how long Cullen might be occupied. He hadn’t officially offered her the job and she didn’t want to assume it was hers for the taking. He might even have had other candidates to interview.
Still, Lily did her best to engage the kids in conversation, taking care to steer clear of sensitive topics that might upset them. It was more difficult than she’d imagined. That was why she was a bit relieved when George bounded back into the room holding a box of candy. It was one of those big yellow sampler types available in drugstores.
Megan shot him another of her stern glares. Maybe she didn’t want to share the chocolate. That was fine. Split among four siblings, even the big box wouldn’t go far. Lily didn’t want to take the kids’ candy.
“Since Ms. Palmer is going to be our babysitter,” George said, “we should give her something special.”
As he held out the box to Lily, Megan crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.
“That’s so nice of you, George, but I don’t want to take your candy. Save it to share with your sisters.”
The boy jumped up and down on one foot. “No! I want to share with you. Here!”
He thrust the box at Lily. She took it, fearing he might drop it hopping around like that.
“Okay, just one piece. Thank you—”
When she lifted the lid, something long and black and jumpy sprang out at her. Before Lily could stop herself, she screamed and threw the box into the air.
Chapter Two (#ulink_b14f0d17-03a0-5832-94a3-fc2709bcacb0)
An ear-piercing scream eclipsed Max Cabot’s explanation of the documents he was dropping off. This time the scream wasn’t from one of the girls; it was Lily.
Hell. What had the kids done now? Lily was his only option for a nanny. If they drove her away... He didn’t want to put them in day care.
He’d just have to make sure they hadn’t scared her off.
“I have to go, Max. I need to go see what’s going on in there. I’ll look at these and call you later.”
When Cullen walked into the kitchen, Lily was on her knees scrambling to pick up what looked like a spilled box of chocolates, shooing the dog away before he could eat them. It looked as though the dog was ahead in the race. The kids stood and watched with guilty-looking faces.
Where had the chocolates come from?
“Everything all right in here?” he asked.
Lily stood up and smoothed her skirt. “Yes. Fine. Everything is fine. Sorry to interrupt you. I dropped the candy that the kids so generously offered to share with me. I shouldn’t have screamed. I’m embarrassed.”
She screamed over dropping a box of candy?
Cullen squinted at her. He didn’t know her well, but she didn’t seem like the type to overreact. And when he saw the way the kids were standing there with certain looks on their faces and the way Hannah was looking in from the threshold between the living room and the kitchen, he had a feeling he wasn’t hearing the entire story.
“I’m just worried about...the dog,” Lily said. “I’m afraid he will get sick from the chocolate. Wouldn’t want that to happen. Would we, kids?”
As if on cue, the big, mangy mutt jumped up and put its paws on Lily’s stomach and licked her. When Lily stepped back, Cullen saw the dark streak the mutt left on Lily’s white blouse. This stain was even worse than the one that had ruined Angie’s pants.
Great. Now Lily was going to walk out, and Cullen was out of options except for day care.
“Kids—George, Megan—” He drew a deep breath to take the edge off his voice. “Put the dog on a leash. He has to stop jumping on people. He just got chocolate all over Ms. Palmer.”
George took Franklin by the collar and held him while Bridget left the room. Presumably to get the leash.
Lily was brushing at the stain on her blouse.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “Send me the bill for the dry cleaning, or if your blouse is ruined, I’ll replace it. Sometimes chocolate is hard to remove.”
Lily waved him off. “All I have to do is pretreat it and throw it in the washer. It’ll be fine. I’m just worried about the dog ingesting all that candy. Isn’t chocolate supposed to be bad for them? Should we take him to the vet?”
Ah, hell. She was right.
He pulled out his smartphone. “I have no idea where the closest vet is—”
“It’s not chocolate,” George murmured as he strained to hold Franklin back. The dog whined in protest. “He doesn’t need to go to the vet.”
“What was in the box?” Cullen asked.
George looked sheepish. “Mud balls that look like chocolate. They won’t make Franklin sick. He eats mud all the time.”
There was a beat of silence, during which Megan and Hannah turned and left the room, murmuring something about helping Bridget find the dog’s leash.
Cullen counted to ten before he spoke. These pranks were just not acceptable. Sure, the kids were bored and hurting over the loss of their mother. But driving away every single potential caregiver had to stop.
Still, Cullen took extra care to check his tone.
“So, buddy, if they’re mud balls, why were you offering them to Ms. Palmer? That’s not cool. They could’ve made her sick.”
There was another beat of silence, during which the boy’s eyes flashed defiantly before they began to fill with tears, belying his stony expression.
“Oh, no,” said Lily. “He wasn’t trying to trick me into eating them. He was just showing me how realistic his candy sculptures were.”
She nodded a little too adamantly.
“Candy sculptures?” Cullen asked.
“Yes,” Lily said. “As you can see, they’re quite true to life.”
“Mmm,” Cullen answered.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spied another of the mud bombs that had rolled under the table. When he bent to retrieve it, he saw a coiled rubber cobra lying about three feet behind it.
Okay. Now he was starting to piece together the chain of events: the boy handed the lady a candy box; the lady opened said candy box, saw the realistic-looking rubber snake inside, screamed and threw the box.
Obviously it had startled her, but now she was covering for the boy.
Hmm...
Cullen walked around the table and picked up the snake by the tail. It uncoiled and bounded as he held it up. It was so realistic looking that it made Cullen want to wince, but he didn’t.
“George, I think this belongs to you,” Cullen said. “Did you scare Ms. Palmer with it?”
“Oh, no, he’s fine,” Lily interjected. “We were just getting to know each other. No harm done. Right, George?”
Seriously?
Cullen looked back and forth between the two of them. Lily was smiling. George looked sullen. Okay. If she wasn’t bothered by it, then he wasn’t going to press the issue.
Not now, anyway.
In fact, it was nice to see that she had the fortitude to deal with the pranksters. Maybe if they didn’t get a reaction out of her they’d stop.
“George, please take the snake and the dog in the other room. I need to talk to Ms. Palmer.”
George kept his head down as he yanked the snake out of Cullen’s hand and herded Franklin out of the room.
Lily stood there in the middle of the kitchen floor smiling, but looking uncertain and...so damn pretty, even in her stained blouse. Her cheeks were flushed pink. Combined with her green eyes, blond, curly hair and full bottom lip, which she was biting, she looked... Well, the old Van Halen song “Hot for Teacher” came to mind. Cullen forced it out of his head as fast as it had arrived. That was so wrong. Worse than George’s pranks and the dog jumping up on her.
He could tell from the short conversation he’d had with her that Lily Palmer was...different from the women who usually floated his boat.
She was different and she was off-limits...at least until her month of caring for the kids was up.
Stop. Stay on task, he reminded himself.
“You didn’t have to defend him,” Cullen said. “His behavior was inappropriate.”
“He’s just a kid,” Lily said.
“Does that mean you still want the job?”
Lily blinked at him as if changing channels from champion of children to nanny candidate. “Well, yes. Of course I do.”
Cullen exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Next, he gathered his own inappropriate thoughts and urges, stuffed them into a mental box labeled Off-limits and pushed them way in the back of his consciousness. If he was going to hold George to a standard of appropriateness, then he had to set the example.
“Can you start now?”
* * *
“Why didn’t you get George in trouble?” Megan asked Lily. “Because you totally could’ve. I’ll bet you could’ve gotten him grounded if you wanted to.”
“Nuh-uh,” said George. “Uncle Cullen can’t ground us. Only Mom and Dad could do that, and they’re dead.”
Lily winced and brother and sister continued to verbally duke it out. As long as they didn’t come to physical blows, she was willing to let them settle it while she regrouped and figured out what they were going to do for the rest of the day.
She hadn’t planned on being hired on the spot, much less starting today. If she’d known there’d been a chance of that, she would’ve planned better. She would’ve brought things for the kids to do. But, she rationalized, being hired on the spot was far better than having to wait or getting passed over for the job.
She’d had a certain level of confidence coming into the interview since her friends Kate Thayer—who was married to Dr. Liam Thayer, who worked with Cullen at the hospital—and Sydney James, who was good friends with Kate, had both recommended her for the position.
But she had to admit her confidence took a tumble when she saw Angie racing to get out of the house.
Lightweight. She chuckled to herself and then reined it back in. Not everyone was cut out to care for children. Those who weren’t had no business trying. There was a fine line between keeping a child in line and breaking his or her spirit.
The Thomas kids needed special care after all they’d been through. Maybe even a bit more slack than she would usually allow the typical kid in her class. To a point.
Through the years, she’d learned that caring for children was not a one-size-fits-all endeavor. It was an ongoing choose-your-battles work in progress.
“How about if we play a game of Monopoly?” Lily suggested with all the enthusiasm she could muster. “Your uncle Cullen said he just got it for you.”
Playing a board game, especially one like Monopoly that had the potential to last hours, would not only be a good way to keep them occupied, but might be a good way to get to know them better.
“You know he’s not our real uncle,” said Megan. “We just call him that. He was my dad’s best friend.”
“He’s a good guy,” Lily said. He must’ve been. It was a commitment to take in four kids. Even if it was just temporary.
“I’m hungry,” said Bridget. “Can we have something to eat first?”
Lily glanced at her watch. It was later than she’d realized, well past lunchtime. Cullen had left some money and the number of the local pizza place that delivered. It had been so chaotic she hadn’t even thought about whether or not they’d eaten. “You know what? That’s a good idea. What kind of pizza should we order?”
The girls wanted cheese. George wanted the works. After she placed the order, she instructed the kids to set up the game and count out the money.
While they were busy, she searched the pantry, which housed a full wine refrigerator and not much else. Then she started opening and shutting cabinets in search of a light snack to tide them over. Other than cereal, which they told her they’d had for breakfast, she found a jar of peanut butter in the cupboards and some fruit, baby carrots, a gallon of milk and juice in the refrigerator. That was it for the healthy snacks. Of course, she also found some fancy crackers that were past their expiration date, a jar of olives and a rather smelly, green-looking wedge of blue cheese in the refrigerator.
Typical fare for a bachelor who never ate at home. Then again, he did say he usually ate most of his meals at the hospital.
That was a dismal thought. Unless he had good company.
It was none of her business, but that didn’t stop her curiosity. A good-looking guy like that, there was probably a line of eligible women interested in keeping him company as he ate his late-night hospital-cafeteria food. Maybe he even had a girlfriend—though she certainly wouldn’t be a very good girlfriend if she wasn’t willing to help him out with the kids.
If there was someone, maybe she worked. What else would she do with her time? Maybe she would help him care for the kids in the evening. Because he hadn’t said anything about her being a live-in nanny for the month.
Probably because of the girlfriend. What were the chances of a guy like Cullen Dunlevy being unattached? He probably had someone he could count on in the evening.
Beyond the fireworks and breathless delight of a relationship, wasn’t one of the best things about being involved knowing you had someone you could depend on? Not in the boring sense of the word, but someone solid. Someone you could count on.
That did sound boring.
Maybe that was her problem. Maybe dependability was just a nice way of saying boring. Maybe that was why Josh had broken their engagement.
No, he’d told her she was too fat, that he didn’t want to settle for someone who didn’t care enough to keep in shape. She was an ample size ten, sometimes spilling over into a twelve. She was curvy and she loved to cook.
To her, food was love. And while she was miles from being thin, she’d never felt fat. She was healthy.
Until the day he’d voiced his repugnance and walked out on her, she’d thought those were the qualities he’d loved about her.
Not so.
Her heart ached at the memory as she grabbed the bag of grapes and carrots and shut the refrigerator door. The kids could snack on them while waiting for the pizza to be delivered.
She’d stop by the store tonight after she got off work and pick up some healthy, kid-friendly food so they wouldn’t have to keep ordering in.
They all sat down at the table to start playing the game as they waited for the pizza. Lily asked, “What do you all like to eat?”
“Cookies!” shouted Megan.
“Chicken nuggets,” said Bridget.
Hannah tugged on Lily’s sleeve and motioned for her to lean closer. Lily did.
“I like mac and cheese,” the little girl said.
“Do you?” Lily asked.
Hannah nodded enthusiastically.
“I happen to make the best mac and cheese in the world.”
The little girl’s eyes grew large. “You do?”
Lily nodded and noticed that the other kids were quietly watching her, except for George. He was fiddling with the game piece shaped like a race car, spinning it on the board, seemingly unaware of the food talk happening at the table.
“I don’t suppose anyone would like me to make mac and cheese tomorrow, would they?”
The girls hooted their appreciation. Hannah climbed into Lily’s lap and leaned forward to position her game piece, the dog, at the starting square. But George still sat stoically, making the race car spin the way someone might set jacks atwirl.
“What do you like to eat, George?” Lily asked.
The boy didn’t answer. Megan nudged him.
“Ms. Palmer wants to know what you like to eat,” she said.
The boy shrugged, indicating he wasn’t the least bit interested in their conversation.
Lily decided not to push him. “You don’t have to call me Ms. Palmer. Why don’t you call me Lily?”
Hannah leaned back and looked up at her. “Hi, Lily.” She giggled.
“Hi, sweet Hannah,” Lily answered.
Hannah giggled again and twirled one of Lily’s curls around her finger.
George spun the car so hard that it sailed off the board and skidded across the floor. It disappeared in the space between the wall and the refrigerator.
“Crap!” George growled.
Hannah and Bridget both clasped their hands over their mouths.
“George!” cried Megan. “You’re not supposed to say words like that. If Mom were here, you’d be in so much trouble.”
“Yeah, well, she’s not here anymore.” He turned his angry gaze on Lily. “What are you going to do about it, Lily?”
* * *
It was nearly ten-thirty when Cullen got home that night. After being called away from the office midday, he’d had a lot to catch up on when he got back. Plus, there had been an emergency he’d had to handle. It had taken him that long to get everything in order.
He put his key in the lock, but before he could open the door, someone opened it for him from the inside. Lily was standing there. Cullen’s first thought was What did they do? Please don’t tell me you’re leaving.
But Lily simply pressed her finger to her lips in the international sign for quiet. She motioned him inside. The door clicked behind him, and for one glorious moment, Cullen stood in the deafening silence. The kids were quiet. The dog wasn’t even barking. It was a calm he hadn’t heard in days.
Lily walked toward the kitchen and he followed her.
“How in the world did you manage this?” he asked. “Did you slip a tranquilizer into their dinner?”
“No, of course not,” she said. “I told you I would tire them out by keeping them busy.”
He glanced around at the clean kitchen and the tidy family room, surprised not to see a mess.
“They’re angels when they sleep, aren’t they?” he said. “This place looks great. Did they help you?”
“A little bit,” she said. “We had a good bit of fun, too. In fact, we made Christmas decorations out of some glitter and construction paper I had in my trunk.” She gestured toward the table, where he could see several flat and shiny objects neatly laid out.
“But they cleaned up after themselves,” she said. “We even tackled that blue mess in the upstairs bathroom.”
“The blue potion?” He had forgotten all about it in his rush to get back to work. “You cleaned it up?”
“Potion? Is that what that was?”
She must’ve had a speck of glitter on her cheek, because something glinted in the kitchen light. Maybe it was pixie dust. Maybe that was her secret. She certainly was as cute as a pixie with her blond hair, laughing green eyes and smooth ivory skin.
“Apparently so,” he said. “You didn’t have to clean it up.”
She chuckled and Cullen had to ball his hands into fists to keep from leaning in and brushing the glitter off her cheek.
“If it sat there any longer,” she said, “it was going to either start expanding out into the hall and take over the entire house or dry out on the toilet and tile and stain everything blue. We actually made a game out of it. The kids were great once they got used to the idea that they had to clean up their messes. Are you hungry? Because I’m happy to reheat some pizza for you.”
The non sequitur threw him, but as he made the jump from the blue potion to her offer of food, a feeling of gratitude washed over him.
“No, thanks,” he said. “I’m sure you’re exhausted. You need to get home so you can get some rest for tomorrow.”
He wasn’t sure that the feeling inside him might not actually be relief. Not only did Lily have the situation firmly under control, but for the first time since the kids had arrived, he was able to take a deep breath and let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to work out. And to think there had been a few shaky days there when he’d convinced himself that he’d gotten in way over his head by taking in the kids, even for a little while.
She walked over to the table and picked up her purse. She shrugged into her coat and fished her keys out of her bag before pulling on a pair of red leather gloves. “Actually before I go, I wanted to ask you if you had a schedule you wanted the kids to follow. We didn’t really get a chance to talk about specifics before you left to go back to the hospital earlier today.”
Schedule? “No. You just keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll be working late most nights. I won’t be around much.”
Maybe it was his imagination, but the sparkle in her eyes seemed to dim a few watts.
“There’s a park not too far from here. It’s just a short drive. You all could go there. I know it’s cold outside, but if you bundle them up they’d be fine. Is your car big enough to transport five?”
Lily frowned. “No. I have a sedan. It seats four. I guess that’s a problem. Maybe we could walk to the park.”
Not unless she was an expert at herding cats.
“I’ll call around and see about renting an SUV or a minivan for you to use. It’s too cold outside to walk anywhere, but I know that you can’t stay cooped up inside. Let me see what I can come up with.”
“That would be great,” Lily said. “Hannah was showing me her booster seat today. She’s quite proud of it.”
Cullen could imagine the girl doing that. For a surreal nanosecond, he saw a flash of what it might be like to keep the kids permanently, with someone like Lily at his side helping him raise them. The thought was simultaneously inviting and terrifying. He blinked it away.
“You’ll need a front-door key,” he said. “Let me get it for you.”
Lily followed him over to a brass key holder that was hanging on the foyer wall just outside the kitchen. He plucked a silver key on a leather key valet.
As he handed it to her, his fingers grazed her soft palm. A tingle of awareness zinged through him and she pulled her hand away a little too fast.
“Feel free to let yourself in,” he said. “No need to knock.”
She nodded.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said and turned toward the door. He followed her to lock up after he let her out, feeling a bit like a stray dog trailing along behind a beautiful stranger. She was a good soul who also happened to be a striking woman. A different brand of beautiful that wasn’t his usual type. But even if she was, he didn’t need to complicate matters by crossing lines that should be clearly drawn.
“Good night,” she said.
“Lily?”
She stopped and turned back to face him. The glitter winked at him. Before he knew what he was doing, he reached out and brushed it away. Her cheek was just as soft and smooth as it looked. It took everything he had not to trace his finger along the edge of her jawline and over that full bottom lip—
But then her fingers flew to her cheek.
“It was a speck of glitter,” he said. “On your cheek. For a moment, I thought it might be some of that pixie dust you used to work your magic on the kids. But I guess it’s just your sparkling personality shining through.”
Oh, hell. That was corny.
But she smiled. And blushed. He could even see it in the golden glow of the porch light.
“Thank you,” she said. “But I probably have enough loose glitter in my car to decorate the entire neighborhood.”
Her keys jingled against the metal of the ring as she gave a little wave of her hand. “See you tomorrow.”
He watched her walk away toward her sensible navy blue, four-door sedan and the electricity that had been hanging in the air between them seemed to fade, replaced by the realization that she would be around only until the end of the month.
He felt a little foolish remembering his earlier vision of keeping the kids. She was the one who had set order to the chaos. But she had a job, probably with good benefits, that she would return to after the first of the year. Surely she wasn’t interested in being a full-time nanny.
He could ask, but it wasn’t likely.
Still, his heart felt heavy when he thought of the huge task of trying to place all four kids in the same family. The attorney, Cameron Brady, had said he would try, but it was a long shot.
What was he going to do if the perfect family didn’t materialize?
It would be impossible to try to care for them on his own; that was just a ridiculous thought that had momentarily run away with his senses. It had been a preposterous lapse of reason. He, of all people, knew that kids need two parents. A mother and a father. Not an absentee pseudo-uncle/father who would spend more time at work than at home. But the fantasy had been fun for the fleeting moment it had lasted.
Chapter Three (#ulink_71587771-f20c-5230-909f-af01dabc9fa6)
At six o’clock the next morning, Cullen was in the kitchen making himself a cup of coffee when Lily showed up at the front door with her arms full of reusable grocery bags.
“Let me help you with those,” Cullen said, taking the three sacks from her. “What on earth did you bring?”
“I picked up some things for lunch,” she said as she took off her coat and scarf. “And we’re going to do some baking today.”
As he set the bags on the island in the kitchen, he peered inside and spied grapes, carrots, peanut butter and a loaf of whole-wheat bread, among other things.
“The baking sounds like fun for the kids, but I was going to leave you some money to order pizza again. Wouldn’t that be easier than fixing lunch for four?”
“Cullen, most kids love pizza, but not for every meal. I don’t mind cooking for them. Really, it’s no problem.”
Her blond hair hung in soft waves around her shoulders, and her cheeks were still pink from the chilly morning air. She wore a red sweater that looked soft and very touchable and blue jeans that he couldn’t help noticing hugged her curves in all the right places.
She was dressed casually and everything about her was appropriate, but how was it that yesterday in the midst of the chaos, he hadn’t noticed just how attractive she was? How could he have missed that and those curves showcased so nicely this morning?
As he reminded himself that her curves were none of his business, he forced his gaze back to her face. She looked remarkably fresh for having left just eight hours ago. For a split second, it crossed his mind to ask her if she would like to move into the guest room for the month that she’d be watching the kids. But then he thought better of it.
She would probably want a little space and some boundaries during her time off. His gaze dropped to that full lower lip. Or maybe he was the one who needed the space. He certainly needed to respect the well-drawn boundaries that should be observed in this type of circumstance.
“Please leave me the receipt for the groceries so I can reimburse you for the things you purchased. Did you go to the store this morning?”
She shook her head.
“Last night,” she said and started unpacking the bags, putting things away as if she were completely at home.
He liked her ease and confidence. “You must’ve gotten home after midnight. Did you get any sleep last night?”
He hadn’t.
Even though the house had been quiet and calm, as if everyone had been under Lily’s serenity spell, he’d spent a fitful night chasing the squirrels that had raced around his head, making him doubt the realities of taking in four kids—even on a temporary basis. Where had all this doubt come from? Misgivings that had him searching for solutions in the hours when he used to sleep soundly and deeply? Nothing used to disturb him in the few hours he had away from the hospital.
“I’ll get used to the new schedule in a few days,” she said. “I’m adaptable. But then again, I’ll probably just be getting used to the nanny schedule when I have to go back to school. Isn’t that how it always works?”
“Then you might as well stay on here rather than go back to school,” he said.
She stopped what she was doing.
“Does that mean that you’re reconsidering adopting out the kids?”
No. He wasn’t. He couldn’t. And he had no idea why he’d even suggested she stay on, other than he needed his coffee. “No, I’m still going to find them a home. And I don’t mean to make them sound like a litter of animals.”
He flinched and started to clarify what he meant. The words were right on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them when he heard the sound of the kids moving around upstairs.
“And speaking of,” he said.
There was loud stomping and even from a distance it sounded as though they might be arguing about something. The dog started barking, taking someone’s side. Cullen couldn’t tell whose. All he knew was that the serenity spell Lily had cast over the house the night before was broken. He hoped to God that she could work her magic again today.
“After they come downstairs, I’m going to say good-morning and then I need to get to the hospital.”
Lily pointed to the coffeemaker. “Don’t forget your brew.”
“Actually I haven’t had time to make it yet. Would you like a cup?”
“If you’ll show me how to use that fancy machine, I’ll make myself a cup after you get yours,” she said. “I don’t want you to be late.”
They walked over to the coffeemaker. She stood so close that he could smell her perfume, a delicate, feminine floral scent that had him breathing in deeper.
He had just measured the coffee grinds and told her, “You need one scoop for every—” when an ear-piercing scream cut him off and had Lily and him racing into the living room to see what had happened.
Hannah was standing at the top of the steps, crying and holding her finger. Megan was yelling at George, who was holding a stick that should’ve been in the backyard, not upstairs in the bedrooms.
“You hurt her!” Megan said.
Bridget was standing back quietly observing as her older sister continued to let George have it.
“What’s going on up there?” Cullen asked from the bottom of the stairs.
Lily had already gone up to the child and was kneeling at the little girl’s side, looking at her finger. “You’re bleeding, sweetie. What happened?”
“George took away Franklin’s fetch stick. I didn’t want him to have it because he said he’s going to take Franklin outside without a leash. But I don’t want him to because Franklin might run away.”
“George, what did you do, buddy?” Cullen asked once he was up there with them.
“He yanked the stick out of her hand,” Megan answered. “That’s how she got the splinter.”
Great. A splinter.
“You have to be careful, pal,” he said, trying his best to keep his voice as even as possible. “You’re stronger than you realize. I’m sure you didn’t mean to do it on purpose, but you hurt your sister. Can you tell her you’re sorry?”
All eyes shifted to the boy, whose face had clouded like a thunderhead. “No,” he said. “She’s dumb. She’s a dumb, crying baby.”
He turned around and walked out of the room.
Suddenly the dirty dishwater that the hospital tried to pass off as coffee sounded better to Cullen than the strong jolt of joe he usually made for himself, because there was nothing he wanted more right now than to leave all this chaos behind and go to work. Even if the hospital’s coffee was bad and that place could be a different brand of bedlam sometimes, at least it came with a chaser of quiet in the form of his closed office door. When he needed to think, all he had to do was shut the door, and unless the place was falling down, no one bothered him. Before they did, they had to go through his administrative assistant, Tracy.
“We need to get this splinter out,” Lily said. “Do you have any tweezers? We’ll probably need some hydrogen peroxide and antibiotic ointment. A bandage would help, too.”
“It’s all in the hall bath,” Cullen said. “The room where you cleaned up the blue foam yesterday.” The place that always seemed to draw the drama—whether it started or ended there.
Cullen motioned Lily and Hannah to follow him. As the three of them squeezed into the hall bathroom, the dog tried to wedge his way in, too.
Lily scooped up Hannah with one arm and petted Franklin with her free hand, keeping him at bay but allowing him to see that the girl was okay.
“Thank you,” Cullen said. Caring for children was infinitely easier with two people. He had no idea how she managed it on her own. Then again, four kids, even kids as spirited as these, must’ve seemed like a picnic compared to a classroom full. Obviously some people had the gift and others didn’t. Lily, he decided as he gathered the supplies, was the child whisperer. He was way out of his league.
He set his cell phone on the counter.
“I’m going to move this over here so it doesn’t get splashed,” Lily said, pushing it behind her with her free hand.
“Thank you. At the rate my morning’s going, I’d probably end up knocking it in the toilet.”
He and Lily exchanged smiles, and it was...nice. It made him feel as if the day wasn’t destined to be all bad.
First he had the little girl wash her hands with soap and water. Then as he prepared to swab Hannah’s finger with hydrogen peroxide, she pulled her hand away, tears brimming. “Will that hurt?”
“It shouldn’t,” Cullen said. “But I’ll bet Ms. Palmer will let you squeeze her hand just in case.”
“Her name is Lily,” Hannah said. “Yesterday, she told us that we could call her Lily.”
“Fair enough,” Cullen said. He smiled as his gaze snagged Lily’s and he wondered why it was that he’d never noticed until now how green her eyes were. And they were flecked with little veins of gold. Nice.
“It might be easier for me to get the splinter out if she sits on the counter,” he said as he picked Hannah up and set her on the vanity.
He had just started to grab the tiny sliver of wood when his cell phone sounded the arrival of a text.
“That’s probably the hospital. I’m late.” He nodded in the general direction of the phone, still trying to remove the offending particle. “Would you mind texting them back to say that I’ll be right there?”
Lily picked up the phone.
“Oh.”
Cullen looked over and met her gaze. “Is there a problem?”
Lily’s eyebrows rose and a faint blush colored her cheeks.
“Well, it’s not the hospital. It’s someone named...Giselle?” Lily cleared her throat. “She says—and I’m paraphrasing here—but she’s very eager to see you tonight. It seems she has quite the night planned for you.”
Oh, hell.
Heat warmed his face. He glanced down at Hannah to see if she’d caught on to the situation. But she was studying the finger that was now splinter free.
“Here—never mind.” Cullen held out his hand for the phone. After Lily gave it to him, he shoved it into his pants pocket as if the action could undo Lily having read the message, which was bound to be graphic, knowing Giselle.
He felt like a letch for having subjected her to it. Of course, if he’d known Giselle would pick that precise moment to offer a preview of coming attractions, he wouldn’t have asked Lily to pick up the text. In fact, he’d been so busy since the kids arrived that he’d completely forgotten he was supposed to see her.
Was that tonight?
He couldn’t bring a woman like her around while Lily and the kids were here. Before he’d taken the kids into his home, he hadn’t realized all the ways they might change his life. When had he ever recoiled from a spicy Giselle text or passed up a chance to see her? But given the circumstances, he didn’t have a choice but to decline.
“Does your finger feel better, Hannah?” he asked after he’d slathered it with antibiotic ointment and applied a bandage.
She nodded through a one-shoulder shrug. “Sort of. It would feel much better if I had a princess bandage.”
Lily took the little girl down from the vanity, held her good hand and led her out of the bathroom without looking at Cullen. “The next time I go to the store, I’ll make sure to get some princess bandages. A princess should always have a special bandage. You’re very brave to wear the ordinary one for now.”
Cullen stood alone for a moment, listening as their conversation grew faint. He certainly hadn’t thought taking in the kids would throw him into a crisis of conscience. After all, he was single. He and the women he dated were consenting adults and very clear about the no-strings-attached nature of their relationships. He wasn’t doing anything wrong.
So why did it feel as though he was?
He took a deep breath and reminded himself that it wouldn’t be this way forever. The kids would be living with him only until the end of December. Then he could resume life as he knew it.
* * *
Nothing said let’s be friends like a big stack of homemade pancakes. After Cullen made his awkward exit, Lily did her best to put the racy contents of the text she wished she’d never read out of her mind.
It wasn’t easy to erase the image of Cullen doing the things Giselle had so graphically described in her message. The only problem was her brain kept imagining Cullen doing those things to her.
Lily wasn’t a prude—she’d been engaged and had enjoyed a healthy relationship with her fiancé before everything turned south—but those thoughts were so inappropriate when she was supposed to have her mind on the kids. For God’s sake, the thoughts were inappropriate even if she wasn’t watching the kids. Cullen Dunlevy was her boss. And even as progressive and open-minded as she fancied herself, she certainly was no Giselle.
She forced the thoughts out of her mind—or at least relegated them to the very back, dark corners of her overactive imagination—and fired up the griddle she’d brought with her. She made cheerful small talk with the kids as she mixed up a batch of pancake batter for them.
She let them flip their own, which the girls loved. George, however, was less than impressed. He slumped on a bar stool at the kitchen island, kept his head down and his attention on his handheld video game while the three girls enjoyed their breakfast and chatted among themselves.
“Come on, George. Will you please put down the game for five minutes so you can make your pancakes?” Lily cajoled. “It’ll be fun.”
George didn’t answer.
“Just five minutes, George, please? That’s all it will take.”
Nothing.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” Lily said. “If you’ll make your pancakes, I’ll let you lick the bowl when we make sugar cookies after breakfast.”
George looked up, his eyes glossy with irritation. “Doesn’t Uncle Cullen pay you to make my breakfast?”
Lily’s eyes widened at the boy’s cheeky response. She walked around to the same side of the island where George was sitting, pulled out the bar stool next to him and sat down.
“Your uncle Cullen pays me to look after you.” She took care to keep her voice even and soft. She was used to dealing with the occasional conflict like this in the classroom, but George’s attitude grew from a place of hurt. The boy probably felt angry and displaced after losing his parents and the adoptive parents who had agreed to take in his sisters and him. He was in limbo and unsure where they would end up, much less if he and his sisters would be able to stay together. Of course, Cullen said keeping the kids together was his goal, but Lily couldn’t help wondering how realistic it was, especially given that he was intent on finding them a place by the end of the year.
The boy had returned his attention to his video game, his thumbs stabbing angrily at the buttons on the device. What George needed more than a battle of wills over pancakes was some compassion and understanding.
Lily stood. “Okay, if you don’t want pancakes for breakfast, you can have milk and cereal. Help yourself.”
George didn’t respond. He simply poured himself a bowl of oat cereal, skipping the milk. He took his breakfast and his game and headed into the other room.
“George, don’t you want to help bake cookies?” Lily asked, giving it one more try.
George turned around and glared at her. “No.” He started to walk away.
“Then what would you like to do?” Lily asked. “I don’t think your uncle Cullen wants you spending your entire Christmas break playing video games.”
He leveled her with a blank stare.
“I could get you some books if you’d like to read.”
He grabbed a handful of cereal and shoved it into his mouth.
“Or if you don’t want to read, tell me some of the things that you enjoy doing—besides video games.”
“Not baking,” he said. “Baking is for girls.”
She thought about telling him that some men were pastry chefs and they were actually quite famous for it, but she knew there was no sense in trying to win him over.
“On the radio this morning, I heard about a boys’ basketball camp that’s going on during the holidays over at the community center,” Lily said. “Would that interest you?”
His expression changed. It wasn’t quite what you’d call agreeable, but it was a far cry from the defiant make-me face he’d worn just a minute ago.
“If you’d like, I can talk to your uncle Cullen about getting you signed up for it.”
He nodded, then turned and disappeared into the next room with his cereal and game.
When the girls were finished with their breakfast, Lily put Hannah and Bridget to work measuring flour into large bowls. She had Megan creaming butter and sugar together. Her plan for the day was to have the kids make and decorate Christmas sugar cookies. She also wanted to teach them how to make a Christmas bread called stollen, a confection filled with dried fruits and marzipan.
“A long time ago, in Germany,” she said, “they used to make a huge loaf of special Christmas bread called stollen. It had all kinds of fruits and spices and a special filling. It weighed tons and it was big enough to share with everyone in the city. They’d bring it out and feed everyone.”
Megan was squinting at her. “They ate stolen bread? Who did they steal it from?”
“No, it wasn’t stolen, as in illegally taken from someone,” Lily said. “It’s called stollen. It sounds the same, but it’s completely legal. Believe me, I wouldn’t teach you about anything illegal.”
“How big was it?” Megan asked, still looking as if she wasn’t buying the story.
“What?” Lily asked.
“You said the stollen bread loaf was big enough to feed the entire city,” she said incredulously. “How big is that?”
“This big?” Hannah hopped off the bar stool and held out her arms wide.
“Oh, much bigger than that,” Lily said, winking and playfully waving her off.
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