Chloe
Chef Patel and I had become fast friends in the five days I’d taken over as Ava’s nanny.
She was the kind of sassy I wished I could be, with a smart mouth and a quick reflex to put anyone who crossed her in their place. She pushed my flavor palette to new heights by introducing me to spices I’d never tasted in my life. And perhaps what I loved most was that I had a woman to talk to who wasn’t related to me.
Although, Chef Patel seemed to have the same disposition about men that my mom and grandmother did. When I asked her if she was married, she scoffed and waved her towel at me with a look that answered the question without words.
She’d helped me get acquainted with Will Perry’s mansion over the weekend, showing me around the property and making sure I had all the necessary codes. When Ava was with us, Chef Patel would talk to her like an adult — which I appreciated, because that was the same approach I liked to take with her. And when Ava was asleep or otherwise occupied, Chef Patel would whip up a new dish for me to try, all while telling me her fascinating stories about traveling to places like France, Spain, India, and Poland in all her culinary studies.
Currently, she was making what she referred to as a pre-flight meal for Will — who was on his way home.
He had an away game in Boston tomorrow, and the entire team was flying out tonight. His uncle would be watching Ava in his absence, and then he’d asked if we could talk more about the next steps when he got back.
I had no idea what those next steps would be.
Will and I had barely had time to talk about whether this position was permanent or not. Between the string of back-to-back home games he’d had and practice in-between, the only energy he had left at the end of each day was reserved for spending time with Ava.
I respected that, and I’d left him alone, doing my best to just take care of his daughter so he had one less thing to worry about.
Now, I found that my stomach was in knots waiting for him to arrive, wondering if my services would no longer be needed. I had no idea if he had been searching for a replacement, for a more permanent option who had better availability than I did. I couldn’t imagine when he would have found the time to do so, but I still worried, nonetheless.
Because the truth was that I adored his daughter already, and I was going to miss spending this one-on-one time with her.
I was going to miss trying to make her smile. I’d miss listening to her talk me through the beginning of each hockey game before trying her best to get me to let her stay up well past her bedtime — just like she had all week. I’d miss styling her hair — which, God help him, Will tried to do but just didn’t have a clue as to how. I’d miss her quiet contemplation when we did crafts, and how she gave me a hug every day when it was time for me to leave, or every night when I put her to bed, depending on the schedule.
I’d just miss her.
I knew I’d have her in class still, at least until the summer, but it wouldn’t be the same.
I’d also miss Chef, miss her food and her jokes and the way she made me feel right at home from the moment I showed up for dinner after watching Ava that first day last week.
And though I’d never admit it out loud, I’d miss Will, too.
I swallowed, only half-listening to Chef talk me through how she was preparing one of Will’s favorite Mediterranean dishes while my heart raced thinking about her boss.
Our boss.
Something about that man called to me, even though the scowl he wore should have made me want to run and hide. Every time he walked through the door, my stomach would flip, heart pumping blood a little faster when his ginormous frame swept into the room.
I told myself it was because he looked like Brendan Fraser circa his George of the Jungle days — which may or may not have been my sexual awakening.
I was lost in that particularly naughty thought when the security system announced that the front gate of his property was opening, and I blinked, coming back to the present.
Chef widened her eyes at Ava. “I wonder who that could be.”
“Daddy!” she said, and then she slid off where she’d been seated next to me at the kitchen island, abandoning her half-colored image of a unicorn in a field of daisies.
I laughed when I looked at it.
She’d colored the unicorn black.
Will had no sooner stepped through the front door with his giant duffle bag on his shoulder before Ava was running full speed at him. Just like always, he slung her up into his arms like she weighed nothing, kissing her hair and offering her the slightest tilt of his lips.
It was as close to a smile as I ever saw on that rugged face of his.
“There’s my girl,” he said. “How was your day?”
“Okay. I colored a unicorn.”
“You did?”
She nodded. “And at school, we learned about words that whine. Like sink and think.”
I covered my laugh with a hand as Will arched a brow at me.
“Words that rhyme,” I corrected softly, crossing my arms where I stood by the spiral staircase. That made me feel weird, so I uncrossed them and pinned my hands between my back and the wall, instead.
She scrunched her nose. “Oh, yeah. Rhyme,” she said. And then she lifted her chin. “Give me a word, Daddy.”
“Duck.”
Will’s eyes sparkled when he glanced at me, and I shook my head.
He was asking for it.
“Tuck,” Ava said, and her shoulders squared, showing how proud she was of herself. “Oh, and Daddy’s favorite word — fuck!”
Chef Patel said something in Hindi that sounded disapproving, and I just tongued my cheek and cocked a brow at Will.
“You are far too smart and observant for your own good,” he said, nuzzling her neck while Ava fought off a grin. It was the closest I’d seen her to losing that fight. “Which means you also know better than to say that word, don’t you?”
Ava flushed and nodded.
“You know what to do.”
Will sat his daughter down, and as if it was the most natural punishment in the world, she dropped down to the floor and did five pushups — with rather impressive form.
He gave her a high five when she was standing again, and after warning her not to use grown up language until she was older, he ruffled her hair.
“Alright, Pumpkin. Why don’t you go wash your hands and we’ll have some of that shrimp I can smell that Chef Patel is making for us.”
“Harissa shrimp,” Chef called from the kitchen. “With butter couscous and quinoa salad.”
“You’re too good to me,” Will called back.
“Oh, trust me, I know. You go wash your hands, too,” she added, sliding out of the kitchen long enough to point her wooden spoon at him. “I know how smelly that locker room is, and I don’t trust any kind of showers taken in there.”
He chuffed something close to a laugh, and then when Ava had run off, he let out a long, heavy sigh, his large hand running back through his damp hair.
That movement was tied to something low and electric in my belly. Every time he did it, I had to squeeze my thighs together against whatever kind of magic he cast.
It was then that I noticed the tight lines of his face, the worry etched between his brows. This wasn’t his usual scowl.
Something was weighing on his shoulders.
“Long day?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I think I deal with more children than you do, the way my team has been acting lately.”
I smirked, but then Will’s phone was buzzing, and he frowned at the screen before excusing himself.
Five minutes later, Ava was washed up and was putting her crayons and coloring book away like I’d asked her to when Will rounded into the kitchen on a curse.
“Change of plans,” he said, looking at his watch. “Uncle Mitch got called out of town and can’t stay with Ava. I need to get her ready and see if Maven or someone can step in.”
Chef didn’t miss a beat, nor did she ask any questions or check to see if Will was okay. She just said, “I’ll box this up so you can eat it on the plane,” and then immediately got to that while I was still trying to process.
“Called out of town?”
“He’s a lineman,” Will explained. “Apparently there was a pretty bad storm in north Alabama last night, and they’re calling for help to get power back up and running.” He was already pulling up Maven’s contact on his phone. “Excuse me, need to make this call.”
“I can stay with her.”
Chef paused where she was boxing Will’s meal into a glass container, something in her face telling me she hoped Will would accept this proposal so he could eat her food fresh. It had to kill her, to go through all that work only to know her dish would be eaten cold on a plane.
“I won’t be back until late tomorrow night after the game,” he said. “Maybe even Friday morning, depending on what Coach decides.”
I shrugged. “I don’t mind. My mom should be able to check in on the cats until I get home, and Ava and I do go to the same place in the morning,” I reminded him.
“I don’t want to be a hassle. I’m sure you’d like to be home in your own bed.”
“It’s really not a hassle at all,” I assured him. “It’s one night, maybe two. And something tells me your guest bed is probably a decade newer than the mattress I currently sleep on.”
I said it with a smile, all light with the joke, but I didn’t miss how Will frowned even deeper at the comment like it was something he needed to fix.
“It would be my pleasure,” I said when he didn’t respond. “Truly. You should sit down and eat, get packed or whatever you need to do before the flight, and leave the rest to me and Chef.”
“She’s right,” Chef Patel said, and she was already scooping the garlic spicy shrimp out of the glass container and onto a plate. “There’s nothing we can’t handle, and you need to eat and get to the airport. Besides, Maven is in the throes of wedding planning right now. I’m sure any time she gets Vince out of the house for an away game is time she needs to get things done.”
The way Chef winked at me told me that Maven likely wouldn’t have minded taking Ava at all, but Chef knew exactly the buttons to push on Will to make him do what she wanted.
I chuckled.
“You’re sure?” Will asked, his eyes searching mine. “I’ll pay you, of course.”
“You already paid me,” I reminded him. “Yes, I’m sure. I want to. I love spending time with that grumpy kid of yours,” I said with a grin. “And it’s really not a problem, I promise.”
Will let out a long sigh, nodding in surrender, and then Chef was ushering him to the table just as Ava dragged herself back into the kitchen like Eeyore. The two grumps sat side by side at the smaller of the two dining tables, and I shared a look with Chef before grabbing my purse off the bar.
“I’m going to run home and pack a bag real quick,” I told them. “And call my mom about watching the cats.”
“Three cats,” Will grumbled, shaking his head as he forked his first shrimp.
I smirked, stopping by the table long enough to tuck Ava’s hair behind one ear. “I’ll be back in an hour. What do you say we read the rest of Where the Wild Things Are tonight?”
“Okay,” Ava said, not even looking up at me. She just scooped up her first bite of couscous, kicking her legs under her seat.
“Okay,” I repeated, and then I looked at Will, who was watching me with his brows bent together, his fork hovering over his plate, something I couldn’t quite read in those haunted brown eyes of his.
Thank you, he mouthed.
I nodded like it was no big deal, and then turned, scurrying out the door to my car before the unavoidable smile spread on my lips.
