Marrying the Virgin Nanny / The Nanny and Me: Marrying the Virgin Nanny / The Nanny and Me. Teresa Southwick
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He was walking past the foyer on his way to the nursery when the key sounded in the lock just before Maggie walked in. She was better than punctual; she was early.
“Hi,” he said, casually lifting a hand in greeting.
“Hi. I’ll check on Brady.”
“Do you have X-ray hearing?”
“No. Why?” she asked, hurrying down the hall.
“You just opened the door.” The baby had been quiet since that one dissatisfied cry. “How did you know he needed something?”
“Whether he did or not, I would have looked in on him. It has nothing to do with super hearing.”
“I’m not so sure.” He followed Maggie to her room where she set overnight bag on the floor and her purse on the bed. Then she went next door to the nursery. “It’s like you’re tuned in to his frequency.”
“Hi, sweetheart.” She lifted the baby out of the crib and cuddled him close. “I missed you.”
“I bet you say that to all the boys.”
Jason leaned a shoulder in the doorway and folded his arms over his chest as he looked at her. He’d expected a tart comeback to his comment, but there was only silence, which seemed out of character. What the heck did he know about what was or was not in character for a woman who’d come close to being a nun? He’d only known her a week. Still, she seemed like the spunky type and not inclined to overlook an opportunity for a retort.
He’d spent a lot of time in this room over the last few weeks, more than the entire eighteen months he’d lived here. But he hadn’t taken the time to notice what a good job the decorator he’d hired had done. The walls were a pale olive green with white baseboards, crown molding and doors. A changing table in maple stood on one wall with the matching crib beside it. The sheet, quilt and airplane mobile were in shades of green, yellow and pale blue. Stuffed animals filled every flat space and corner of the room. Satisfaction trickled through him that he could give his boy the best.
Including the best of care. Which was all about Maggie.
She kissed Brady’s cheek and rubbed his back as her body went into the automatic swaying motion. In her worn jeans, sneakers and pullover red sweatshirt with the words Good Shepherd on the front, she was a sight for sore eyes. Weird that the gravel in them was gone now. And he felt as if he was seeing clearly for the first time in over twenty-four hours.
He’d felt her absence, and not because it had been too quiet without her. Brady had filled a lot of the silence with his outstanding pair of lungs. Now that she was here, he had a bad feeling that the deficiency he’d felt had nothing to do with taking care of the baby and that was unsettling.
“How was your day off?” he asked.
“I think he’s hungry.” She set Brady on the changing table. “When did he last have a bottle?”
Jason glanced at his watch. “About three hours ago.”
“Just as I suspected. You’re ready to eat.” She undid his terrycloth sleeper and slid his legs out, grabbing one tiny foot and kissing the toes. “You have hollow legs, Brady Garrett. Yes, you do.”
Jason was completely caught up in the tenderness that she lavished on the baby. And apparently he wasn’t the only one. When she smiled down, Brady’s tiny mouth curved up in response. His arms waved and legs kicked with genuine excitement rather than agitation. If that was anything to judge by, the little guy had missed her, too. No, not too. That would mean Jason had missed her and he refused to admit to anything but feeling her absence.
He was so caught up in that thought and watching her with his son, it took him several moments to realize she hadn’t answered his question about her day off.
Now that he thought about it, she looked tired. There were circles beneath her eyes that made them look even bigger and more vulnerable.
“I’ll get a bottle,” he said.
“Thanks.” She glanced at him for a moment, then finished changing the diaper.
Jason went to the kitchen and took from the fridge one of the formula-filled bottles she’d prepared before leaving yesterday and set it in the automatic warmer. When it was ready, he returned to the nursery where she sat in the glider with Brady.
“Did you have a good time with Daddy?” she said to the baby, holding him close.
As if talking back, the baby made a cooing sound that was new and Jason’s chest tightened with tenderness. He’d never worked as hard in his life as he had taking care of his child. His only goal had been to make sure Brady was comfortable, happy and content. But it was nice just to be a spectator and watch, noting the milestones in his son that he’d been too busy to notice.
Maggie smiled at the cooing, and said, “I know, sweetheart. I bet you were an angel. Because you’re just the best baby in the whole world. I’m so glad you have food and a place to sleep and a roof over your head.”
Her eyes darkened and there was an edge to her voice. For the second time he remembered that she hadn’t answered his question. “How was your day off, Maggie?”
She glanced up and held out her hand for the bottle. “See what Daddy brought, Brady?”
He handed it to her, then leaned a shoulder against the wall and watched while the boy latched on to the nipple and eagerly started to suck. Maggie smiled gently but it never chased the shadows from her eyes.
“What’s wrong, Maggie?”
Her gaze lifted to his. “Excuse me?”
“How was your day off?”
“Same as always,” she said. “I helped with the kids.”
He didn’t know if her reaction was the same because he had no basis for comparison. No one would accuse him of being the most observant guy on the planet, but even he could see that there was something eating her. “Are you always bothered after spending your day off there?”
“I’m not in the habit of discussing things with my employer.”
“Look, I’m a businessman.” He slid his fingers into the pockets of his jeans. “And the nature of your employment makes it necessary for you to live under my roof. The lines blur. As your friend and employer I ask again, what’s wrong?”
She sighed as she set the bottle on the table beside her, then lifted the baby to her shoulder to gently rub his back. Within moments he burped, a sound that did a father proud. Instantly, he started squirming and whimpering, a sign he wasn’t finished eating.
When she had Brady settled, Maggie looked up. “What’s bothering me? Roofs.”
“Would you care to elaborate?”
“Very soon the kids at Good Shepherd may not have one.” She sighed. “Sister Margaret told me that the building needs repairs. If they’re