he nodded.
“Thank you. Again. I needed that reminder.”
“You’re a good parent. The twins love you and you love them. That’s what matters.” She changed the subject. “Sara said you work at Weddings by Woodwards—legal counsel?”
“That’s better than the other names she used to call me.” He smiled good-naturedly. “I do work as legal counsel for the business, but I also serve on the board at the Byways Youth Center.”
“I’ve heard about it from Sara and some friends. Sounds like it has great potential.”
“If we could find a new director.” Reese grimaced. “We’ve been running shorthanded for a while.”
“I see.”
“Maybe it’s something you’d be interested in.”
Olivia changed the subject.
“The bridal couple is leaving. I don’t want to call Sara back and ruin everything. Maybe I should go home.”
“No.” Reese frowned as he pulled open the door. “Cade’s sister, Karen, will help us. You wait inside. I’ll go find her.”
He was as good as his word, returning a few minutes later with Karen, who didn’t ask any questions, but quickly provided a pale blue sundress and sandals, all the perfect size. Olivia showered, tied her hair back and dressed, feeling almost warm again as she stepped outside.
Reese leaned against the doorpost, watching the twins pet a pony. Brett now wore shorts and a T-shirt. The teenage girl stood beside Reese, talking to him.
“Thanks for lending me this. It’s still a bit damp.” Olivia handed him his jacket.
“We’ll let it hang here to dry,” he said, carelessly dropping the expensive jacket over the banister. “Olivia, this is Emily Kirsch. She babysits the twins for me sometimes. Emily, this is Olivia Hastings.”
“Nice to meet you. Thank you so much for getting Brett out of the water.” Emily clung to her hand, shaking it over and over. “I should have been watching more closely. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.” The girl risked a sideways glance at Reese. “It’s all my fault.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s harder to care for the twins here than at home. I know that. I also know you’ll watch them more carefully next time. You did fine, Em.” Reese patted her shoulder, smiled. “You’re the best babysitter they ever had. They love having you care for them.”
“I love them, too. Uh-oh.” Emily clapped a hand over her mouth as Brett tried to get the pony to eat the ball he was offering. “I better get them busy on a game. Nice to meet you, Miss Hastings.”
Miss. It still sounded strange to hear that.
“You, too,” Olivia said, but Emily had already left. “I’m surprised you remembered my name,” she teased Reese, remembering how he’d stumbled during an introduction earlier in the day.
He was good-looking in a dangerously rumpled kind of way. His profile reminded her of Prince William. One of the twins had left a grubby print on his shirtfront. The dab of red on his collar matched the red stain on Brady’s white pants. Reese’s sandy-brown hair was just an inch too long to be neat.
“Of course I remember your name.” He blinked innocently.
“You didn’t earlier.”
“Well, we’ve already established I was focused on two small troublemakers. So my brain was occupied elsewhere.” He made a face when Brett began climbing up a tree and moved forward as if to stop him. He relaxed when Emily intervened. “If you had kids, you’d understand how easy it is to get sidetracked.”
If she had kids—
I was a wife and a mother once, her heart cried out. Until my family was stolen from me.
“What would you say to a hot cup of coffee and some wedding cake? Emily seems to think those two need their bellies filled. Again.”
“Someone actually cut that gorgeous cake?” Olivia walked beside him with the twins following.
His family greeted him with good-natured jeers and teasing. Reese responded in kind, though his attention never left the twins for more than a few minutes.
What would it be like to be part of a family again, to work with kids again, to find the connection that would make her part of something? Olivia longed to join humanity and replace the ever-present worry that held her back, prevented her from getting too close—lest some newspaper reporter figure out whom she’d been and run another story about her pitiful past.
Sara Woodward had been the first person Olivia had trusted in a very long time. And even Sara didn’t know the whole truth.
The jury was still out on trusting Reese.
Chapter Two
Two weeks later, Reese could only hope Olivia’s interest in touring Byways was genuine enough that she’d cut him some slack for being late for this meeting.
He’d done everything he could to interest her in the director’s position, from forwarding reams of accolades for past successes to ideas and possibilities that had been tossed around for the future. As chairman of the board of Byways, he wanted the place to live up to its potential of a refuge where kids could learn new things, find someone to talk to and have a safe place to hang out. Byways needed a director who could oversee everything and deal with questions the kids inevitably needed answers to.
Olivia had remained steadfastly noncommittal—until today when she’d finally agreed to tour the facility with him. Reese sincerely hoped she’d be impressed enough to agree to take the job as director, and soon. Lately he spent almost as much time here as at work, and the twins were not happy about his frequent absences.
Only Nelson’s car sat on the lot.
Olivia had given up and gone home and Reese didn’t blame her. He was half an hour late. This would have to be the day the twins’ nanny quit. He’d been stuck interviewing new candidates all afternoon. The last applicant had scared even him.
Good thing Granny Winnie wasn’t above a spot of babysitting when the need arose. If only the twins didn’t—
“You think I should work here, but you’re afraid to get out of your own car? Is that your excuse for being late?”
Reese snapped out of his reverie to see Olivia laughing down at him. She looked different today. Not because she was less elegant in her navy slacks and sleeveless white shirt with a navy jacket slung over one arm. It was her hair that caught his attention. Again.
It was as lovely as he remembered. Loose, flowing to her shoulders in a swath of blended honey and amber, it glistened with a hint of orange—no, cinnamon—enhancing the flawless perfection of her face.
“I like your hair,” he blurted out.
“Oh. Well. Thank you.” Olivia’s smile faltered as she lifted a hand to brush the long spiky bangs off her forehead.
