“Thanks.” A slow smile spread across Libby’s face, then she turned and grabbed Henry’s hand. “Come on, Henry. Let’s watch SpongeBob.” The two of them plopped on the sofa, with Libby working the remote to switch to the underwater cartoon.
Katie rose and turned toward Sam. She’d accepted a job she wasn’t sure she wanted, without knowing a single thing about the hours, the pay, anything. That was as far outside the realm of how she normally operated as she could get. “So, maybe we should discuss the details.”
He grinned. She liked his smile. It was warm, friendly, like the way brownies made you feel when you first pulled them out of the oven. He was a handsome man, six foot two, trim and muscular, with close-cropped medium brown hair and dark brown eyes. He was wearing a T-shirt that seemed molded to his chest—not that she was complaining—and a pair of jeans that hung low on his hips. His feet were bare, and there was just something about the intimacy of that that made Katie feel like she was intruding in his space. From the moment she’d seen him, standing at the door, annoyed and flustered, she’d felt this warmth in her gut that rippled through her veins.
His phone buzzed and he glanced down. “My appointment was just moved to nine thirty, which means I have time to finally have a cup of coffee. Do you want one?”
“Coffee would be great.” And maybe with a mug in her hands she’d stop staring at the hot widower’s body. She followed him out to the kitchen, which looked pretty much like the tornado from The Wizard of Oz had just blown through. Dirty dishes teetered in the sink, a stack of newspapers lay scattered across the counter, crumbs littered the floor and the space around the toaster, and there was a pile of dirty laundry bulging out from the laundry room door like an impending avalanche.
Yup, Sam was clearly stressed. A lot stressed.
“Uh, sorry, I think I have a second clean cup here.” He opened a cabinet door, another, then finally unearthed two mugs from the back of the third cabinet he looked in. Sam poured her a cup of coffee, then held it out. “I don’t have any cream, but I do have milk and sugar.”
“Black is fine. Thank you.” She sipped the coffee, a surprisingly rich and good brew, and kept her back to the counter rather than taking the only free chair at the kitchen table. The others had stacks of mail and toys piled on them, as if the rest of the house was coming for lunch.
“Uh, sorry.” Sam rushed forward and scooped a pile of things off one of the chairs. He started to put it on the table, then thought better of that and pivoted to the left, depositing the toys and books onto the floor by a drooping and browning potted plant. “It’s, uh, been hard to work and watch the kids and...well, my last nanny quit a few weeks ago and the new one isn’t as good as the other one, and...” He let out a breath. “Mostly, I’m just not good at this juggling thing.”
She laughed. “It’s fine, really. And made all that much better by a man who admits he can’t do it all.”
“I definitely can’t do it all.” Sam gestured toward the empty seat and waited for her to take it before he sat opposite her. “At work, I can juggle multiple clients and deals, but here, I’m bested regularly by a three-year-old and a third-grader.”
“You seem to be doing fine.” Okay, so maybe she was generously stretching the definition of the word fine.
He ran a hand through his hair, a move that made him seem more vulnerable somehow. “I’m not, but thanks for saying that. I really need some help, at least until Libby gets caught up. It’s a short-term job, if that’s okay. Feel free to say no. You are incredibly overqualified to teach math to a third-grader.”
She didn’t want to get into the reasons why an overqualified CPA would take on a tutoring job. “That works for me. I wasn’t really looking for anything permanent, so I’m flexible with whatever schedule you want.” It shouldn’t be too hard, right? Though the thirtyish man across from her didn’t seem to have it under control, so why would she think she could do it better?
“Aren’t you here on vacation?” Sam asked. “I’d hate to take up whatever free time you have. You said two weeks, which, if you can work with Libby regularly, should give her a good head start on getting caught up. I’ll worry about a more permanent solution once I find one.” He sighed. “Anyway, I really don’t want to monopolize your time off.”
“It’s only sort of a vacation.” How did she begin to explain the meltdown in the office, the clear signs that she needed to get away, to leave town, to start over? How once she’d arrived here and had more than five minutes of quiet, all those thoughts and memories and emotions she’d been avoiding washed over her like a tidal wave? And how the one thing she was banking on with being Sam’s tutor was that it would leave her too busy to think? “This job works perfectly with my plans.”
“Well, I am glad to hear that.” Relief washed over her at his words. He mentioned a decent hourly rate, and she agreed. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket, then read the text on the screen. “Thank God. Charity is on her way over. Normally, I bring Henry to storytime at the community center my uncle runs, and Charity picks him up from there. But since Libby doesn’t have school today, it’s easiest if I just leave Henry here. She can watch him while you work with Libby. If it’s at all possible, do you think you could start with Libby today?”
“Today?”
“If you can’t, well, I understand, but Charity is still new and though she’s great, she gets overwhelmed when she has both kids. With you here, that should help her out. I’d take them, but I have this job interview and I can’t take the kids because I’m still paying for Henry’s ‘creativity’—” Sam rolled his eyes and made air quotes “—at the last place I interviewed at.”
She bit back a laugh. Sam was so clearly out of his depth with these kids that she couldn’t help but want to make it easier on him. Plus, if she started today, she wouldn’t have a long, endless day stretching ahead of her with nothing to fill the hours. Colton was sleeping, after getting off his shift at the fire station, and wouldn’t be available until dinnertime. “Today sounds perfect.”
“Great. Thank you.” He glanced over at the sofa. “The kids are quiet right now, so if it’s okay, I’m going to run upstairs, take a shower and get ready. Charity should be here in ten minutes, but I have to leave in...eleven. If you don’t mind waiting, I’d appreciate it. Give me five minutes. Ten, tops. Okay?”
“I think I can handle this for ten minutes.” She gave him a soft smile, and tried to pretend a part of her wasn’t thinking about the hunky man before her taking off his clothes and stepping into a shower.
When Sam went upstairs, Katie wandered into the living room. This space, too, looked like the aftermath of a tornado, complete with a second carpet of tiny little bricks. Now that it was just her and the two kids, she wasn’t quite sure what to do or how to engage them. She glanced at the television. Some cartoon sponge-shaped guy was running around in his underwear and letting out an annoying nasal laugh. “Hey, guys, what are you watching?”
“SpongeBob,” Libby said. “He lives in the water. With Mr. Krabs. And Patrick.”
“Sounds, uh...educational.” Whatever happened to Sesame Street? The Electric Company? Shows she remembered and understood.
A commercial came on and Libby turned toward Katie. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Uh...no.” She’d had a boyfriend. Who had dumped her the second he found out she was pregnant. She’d
