Single Dad Needs Nanny Page 32

  “I know why you haven’t told him. You’re afr—”

  “The opportunity hasn’t come up.” Amy spoke slowly and distinctly so there would be no misunderstanding. “But when I do tell him—and I do plan to tell him—I know he’ll be happy for me.”

  “Don’t kid yourself.” Genuine concern filled Steven’s gaze. “If he had it his way, you’d never leave. Never go on to bigger and better things. You deserve your own dreams, too, Amy.”

  The unexpected vehemence in Steven’s tone took her by surprise. But she just smiled because she knew he really meant well. He was wrong about Dan, though…and about her.

  Chapter Five

  Amy shut off the car’s ignition and leaned back against the seat, too tired to get out. The clock on the dashboard read eleven forty-five and exhaustion oozed from every pore. Her normal bedtime was ten-thirty and when she’d started to yawn while discussing the merits of using liqueurs, she’d known it was time to head home.

  As she’d started toward the door, Steven had pulled her to him. Then he’d asked if she’d consider spending the night. The crazy thing was, for a second she’d been tempted. It had been so long…

  But in the end she’d said no, frightened by the serious look in his eyes and her own ambivalent feelings. Besides, there was only one man she wanted in that way and he was waiting for her at home.

  The garage door slid smoothly downward and, heaving a resigned sigh, Amy stepped out of the car and headed for the side door. Unlike Steven’s condo with its underground parking, Dan’s house had been built in the early 1900s when detached carriage houses were de rigueur.

  But Amy didn’t mind the short walk to the house. The temperature had dropped slightly and the autumn coolness was a welcome break from the warmth of the car. She could feel herself begin to wake up.

  How she loved the lush yard with its large trees and beautiful arbors and the way the fragrant smell of flowers mixed with the scent of freshly-cut grass. During the day squirrels chattered a mile a minute and birds chirped happily. But now all was quiet. She stopped just short of the house and inhaled, taking in the beauty around her.

  Amy vowed that when she bought a house it would have a nice yard. She remembered all too well the tiny apartment she’d shared with her aunt after her mother had dropped her off and never came back. She’d had to play outside on the concrete…

  Shoving the memory aside, she decided it was too nice a night to ruin with thoughts of the past. She should go straight to bed but the idea of sitting for a few minutes in one of the large Adirondack chairs on the back screened-in porch pulled at her.

  It would be so peaceful, so—

  “How was your evening?”

  The familiar deep voice stopped her cold. Dan sat in one of the chairs on the porch. She could count on one hand the number of times he’d stayed up past ten-thirty on a work night. Concern rippled up her spine. She moved forward quickly, her heart picking up speed with each step. “Where’s Emma? Is everything okay?”

  “She’s fine.” Dan rose and held the porch door open. “Went to bed for me without any problem.”

  Amy exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “So nothing is wrong?”

  “Why would you think something is wrong?”

  “You’re up,” Amy said. “You’re always in bed by now.”

  “You’re dressed up.” His gaze traveled the length of her body. Amy could hear the surprise in his tone and though she wasn’t a bit cold, she shivered.

  He’d known she was going out with Steven. But he’d been upstairs when she’d left and he’d obviously assumed this had been a jeans and T-shirt evening.

  “I made dinner for Steven at his place.”

  “He made you cook?” Dan’s brows pulled together and she could hear the censure in his tone. “When you were dressed like that?”

  Amy heaved an exasperated sigh and dropped into a chair. What was it with these men?

  “He didn’t make me do anything.” Amy kicked off her heels. “We’re taking turns cooking each other dinner. Steven likes to dress up. Do things nice. He thinks it adds to the ambience.”

  Even in the dim light, Amy could see the surprise in Dan’s eyes. He opened his mouth, then shut it.

  She paused, waiting for him to disagree. After all, that seemed to be the pattern between the two men.

  “I agree,” Dan said.

  “You do?” Amy’s voice rose despite her best efforts to control it.

  “Of course,” Dan said, his tone conversational and pleasant.

  Amy let her shoulders drop and the last of the tension exited her body. Finally, here on this quiet porch, she was back on familiar footing and could relax.

  Tonight had not been the evening she’d anticipated. Instead of being the kind, supportive friend, Steven had tried to play the boyfriend card. She’d hated to shut him down but she didn’t see that she had much choice. Not when her feelings for Dan were growing stronger. She slanted a sideways glance.

  Dan had leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head in a relaxed pose. “Does Steven live close?”

  “Not far.” Though it might not be very Emily Post, Amy brought her foot up and massaged her instep. The stiletto heels might look great but they were a killer. “He lives in one of the condos by the Pier.”

  The words had barely left her lips when Dan scooted his chair to face hers. “Give me those.”

  Amy widened her eyes. “Pardon?”

  “Your feet,” he said. “Those kind of shoes take their toll. I used to give Tess a foot rub all the time. Put them here.”

  Amy hesitated. While he wasn’t suggesting they get naked and jump into bed, what he was suggesting somehow seemed just as intimate. Before she had a chance to respond, he reached down and rested both her feet on top of his muscular thighs.

  “Ah—” He began to gently massage her foot from the toes to the ankle and any words of protest died on a sigh.

  “You are incredible,” she breathed.

  The dimple in his left cheek flashed. “Well, thank you, ma’am. I aim to please.”

  He shifted his focus to the sole of her foot, his fingers moving in circular motions from the base of her toes to the heel, the pressure of the circles steady and even.

  Amy closed her eyes and let the waves of pleasure wash over her.

  “I don’t believe you’ve ever told me what Steven does for a living.”

  The question seemed to come from a great distance. Amy’s eyelids fluttered as he turned his attention to her toes.

  “He’s an attorney.” Utterly relaxed, Amy leaned her head back against the chair. “I guess he’s handled some high-profile cases but I’ve never heard of them.”

  Steven had told her more than once about his practice but she must not have been paying very close attention because right now, with Dan’s thumbs pressing into the arch of her foot, she couldn’t remember any details.

  “What’s his last name?” Dan asked in a low, soft voice.

  “Mitchell.” Amy moaned. “Oh, Dan, if I’d have known I was coming home to this, I’d have never stayed out so late.”

  “That’s okay,” Dan said in a hypnotic tone. “Next time just remember…there’s no place like home.”

  A loud buzzing sounded in Amy’s ear and she brushed at the irritation, her hand connecting with something hard and plastic.

  It took only a second for her to realize she wasn’t on a far-off beach making love to Dan in the sand. She was in her bedroom with her new clock radio buzzing angrily up at her from the floor. Reaching down, she hiked it up by its cord, bringing the time into focus.

  She gasped. It should have gone off an hour ago. The bus would be coming for Emma in twenty minutes and Dan, well, right now he was on his own.

  Amy jumped out of bed, but stopped almost instantly, swaying slightly as her hand rose to her pounding head. She had only two or three glasses of wine with Steven, but after Dan had finished her foot massage, he’d brought out a bottle of
Kendall Jackson and she’d had a couple more glasses.

  Unlike her mother, Amy took responsibility for her own actions. She’d pay the price today. She’d never make Emma and Dan suffer.

  Ignoring her aching head, she hurried to the bathroom. After splashing cold water on her face, she ran a brush through her hair and pulled the long strands back into a ponytail. A second later her pajamas hit the floor. Grabbing a pair of gym shorts and a pullover cotton shirt, she dressed as she headed toward the door, snagging a pair of flip-flops on the way. She slid her feet into the shoes and took the stairs down two at a time.

  Emma stood in the kitchen on a chair, a box of cereal clasped tightly against her chest. When she caught sight of Amy she smiled and held out the Cheerios.

  “Look what I got.” Emma thrust the box outward, unbalancing herself.

  Her heart in her throat, Amy crossed the room in three quick strides and scooped Emma into her arms. While she knew she should probably scold the child for climbing on the chair, Emma looked so pleased with herself, Amy didn’t have the heart.

  “Cereal sounds good to me, too.” Amy swung the girl to the floor. “How about you get the place mats from the drawer and I’ll get the milk and juice.”

  “Is there room at the table for one more?”

  Amy shifted her gaze and her heart skipped a beat. Dan stood in the doorway, dressed casually in khakis and a polo shirt. His appearance answered one of her questions. Obviously today was going to be a work-from-home day.

  “There’s lots of room.” Emma spoke before Amy could answer. “And we got a whole box of Cheerios.”

  “Or I could make French toast? Or eggs and bacon?” Amy asked. Unlike his daughter, Dan had never been a big cereal fan.

  “Cheerios sounds good to me.”

  “Emma, grab an extra place mat for your father.” She shifted her gaze to Dan. “Coffee this morning?”

  “Extra strong.” A teasing glint filled his blue eyes. “Someone kept me up way too late last night.”

  Amy’s heart skipped a beat. For a second she let herself believe that Dan was flirting with her. But, by the time the rich aroma of the breakfast blend filled the air, she’d gotten her emotions—not to mention her foolish thoughts—under control.

  “Can I put the bowls on the table?” Emma offered Amy an imploring glance.

  “May I put the bowls on the table?” Amy corrected, taking the dishes from the cupboard and handing them to Emma along with three spoons. “And, yes, you may.”

  It wasn’t long until cereal and juice were on the table along with steaming cups of coffee for her and Dan.

  Emma had barely finished spooning the last soggy “o” into her mouth when the school bus honked. Taking one quick sip of orange juice, she pushed back her chair. “May I be excused?”

  Amy cast a quick glance over Emma.

  Hair brushed and pulled back with two clips.

  Jumper and turtleneck on right side out.

  Navy-blue knee-highs and shoes.

  Amy smiled and nodded her approval.

  “Goodbye, Daddy.” Emma gave her father a quick hug. “Bye, Amy.”

  Another honk sounded and Emma’s eyes widened with alarm. She grabbed her backpack and raced through the house. Only a few steps behind, Amy moved to the large parlor window. She watched Emma get on the bus before she returned to the kitchen.

  Amy paused in the doorway, surprised to find Dan still sitting at the table, reading the paper. Normally, when Dan worked from home, he headed upstairs to his office once Emma left for school. He looked up briefly when she entered the room, giving her a distracted smile. Amy stuck the cereal bowls and juice glasses in the dishwasher before topping off Dan’s coffee and resuming her seat.

  Lifting her cup to her lips, she gazed across the table. “I take it you’re working from home today.”

  “Actually, I’ve decided to take the day off.” He raised his gaze from the newspaper. “Want to play hooky with me?”

  Amy’s shock must have shown on her face because he chuckled. “I’ve got some time I need to burn before the end of the year. I thought we could go to Long Grove. Check out the antiques. Maybe grab some lunch?”

  Amy placed her cup back on the saucer, surprised by the steadiness of her hand. Was she hallucinating or had Dan just asked her out? Her eyes searched his. While she wasn’t sure what she’d expected to see, disappointment coursed through her at the simple friendliness reflected there.

  “Amy?”

  The day Amy had planned flashed before her—a little light housecleaning, replace the zipper on one of Emma’s dresses, then try out a new recipe or two. Chez Gladines was closed on Mondays so Amy didn’t need to worry about making pastries. There was nothing on her agenda even half as appealing as a day in Long Grove.

  She loved the small community with its quaint atmosphere and plethora of antique shops. The few times she’d been there hadn’t been nearly long enough.

  But to go with Dan?

  A thrill of pleasure raced up her spine at the thought of being his date. No, she firmly reminded herself, if she went it’d be as a friend, nothing more.

  Amy took one last sip of coffee. “Just give me a few minutes to freshen up and do something with this hair.”

  “You look fine.” Dan tilted his head, his gaze slowly surveying her. “Actually, way more than fine.”

  Her skin warmed beneath the heat of his gaze, but Amy held no illusions. While Tess may have been beautiful enough to hop out of bed and hit the ground running, Amy didn’t have that luxury. She shoved back her chair and stood.

  “Give me twenty minutes,” she called over her shoulder on her way to the stairs.

  Dan didn’t argue. Instead he cupped his hands around the mug, leaned back in his chair and stared into the dark Columbian brew.

  It had been almost midnight before Amy had pulled in the driveway last night. Dinner with someone who was only a cooking “buddy” would never have lasted so long. He’d been wrong to think the Lasagna Man was no threat. He still couldn’t believe Steven Mitchell was Amy’s “friend.” The attorney was well-known in the Chicago area and had a reputation for getting what he wanted, whether that was an acquittal for a client or some young socialite dazzled by his charm.

  Dan had been at a couple of large parties where Steven was in attendance. While they’d never been introduced, Dan had noticed the guy never lacked for feminine attention. It would be so easy for someone like Amy to be taken in by a guy like that. A man who knew all the right things to say to get a woman in his bed.

  Maybe he already has…

  Dan pressed his lips together and his fingers tightened around the coffee cup until his knuckles turned white.

  As offensive as it was, Dan let the idea percolate. Could it be that Amy and Steven were already lovers? While it was possible, after a moment of serious contemplation Dan concluded that the relationship between the two hadn’t reached that point…yet.

  But why would Steven drag his heels? Unless…he’d fallen for Amy. After all, Amy was the kind of woman a man married, not just dated. Maybe, Dan thought, he should be concerned that Steven and Amy hadn’t had sex. Still, just the thought of Steven kissing Amy set Dan’s teeth on edge. Dan couldn’t delay any longer. He had to convince Amy that the only place she belonged was here, with him and Emma.

  To convince her, he’d have to go the hearts-and-flowers route. It was the only way to reach her. Because, though she’d deny it to her death, Dan knew the truth. Amy Logan was a closet romantic. The books she read always had a happy ending. Her favorite movies were romantic comedies where you walked out of the theater holding hands and feeling good. Such a woman would never be wooed by pure logic.

  “I’m ready.”

  Amy stood in the doorway wearing a skirt, formfitting sweater and a tentative smile. Her freshly washed hair glistened and she must have applied some makeup because the freckles he liked so much were barely noticeable.

  Dan rose and offered her the smile t
hat had been winning him hearts since grade school. But when he spoke it was straight from the heart. “You look absolutely lovely.”

  A becoming shade of coral colored her cheeks. “I wasn’t sure what to wear. I didn’t want to dress up too much, but you did mention we’d be going to lunch so I didn’t want to be too casual.”

  His heart warmed. She was chattering the way she always did when she was nervous.

  “You look perfect.” Dan stepped forward and took her hand. “And we’re going to have a great day. I guarantee it.”

  Chapter Six

  A trio of tiny bells welcomed Amy and Dan into the small antique shop in Long Grove. Amy paused in the doorway and let memories from her childhood wash over her. Lace curtains at the windows. Shiny hardwood. The smell of cinnamon in the air. All reminiscent of the turn-of-the-century home that had been in her father’s family for generations.

  After her parents divorced, she’d lived in the old Victorian with him. Those had been the happiest years of her young life.

  Impulsively Amy turned. She slipped her hand through Dan’s arm and gave it a squeeze.

  “Thanks for bringing me here. I adore this place.” Her gaze darted around the well-kept cottage which, despite its extensive inventory, somehow managed to give the appearance of being homey, rather than cluttered. An old Victrola played a once-popular dance tune in the background. “My aunt Verna would love it, too.”

  “Is that the aunt in Minnesota?” Dan asked. “The one you lived with after your father died?”

  Amy nodded, her gaze lingering on a sterling silver brush and comb set. “She always said if she had a big old house, it’d be filled with antiques.”

  But there had been no rambling two story for her aunt. No house at all. Only a one-bedroom apartment with a fold-out sofa that doubled as a bed. Verna had worked as a secretary in the Mankato school system and her salary had been barely enough for her to live on. When her sister’s young daughter had been added to the mix…