Hadn’t ever bumped into him at a party, or made the mistake of attending any reunion-type thing he might have been at.
Now, thanks to her sister, she had no choice but to accept his help. Which had brought him into her house and directly into her line of vision. Up close and personal.
The best-laid plans…
‘Teagan?’ His voice sounded again when she went silent.
‘Sorry.’ She scowled down into her coffee mug and tried to find answers there. ‘I can’t keep looking after three little kids under ten. Not right now. And I can’t keep imposing on you either. I was only supposed to have them for a few days, and this contract in work wasn’t due to finalise ’til next week.’
‘It’s no big deal. I don’t mind.’
When she looked up again he was studying her, his eyes as warm as his voice was reassuring.
It was unnerving as all hell. ‘You may not, but I do.’
‘You can’t want to see them in the care of someone you don’t know? Not really.’
She scowled at his statement, admitting inwardly that that was probably the reason she got a headache every time she spoke to someone about childcare or daycare. It just didn’t sit well on her.
What she wanted was for her sister to get herself home so that Teagan herself could have her life back. She would even offer to babysit a night or two, so that Eimear and Mac could have time alone, and she’d reschedule for them to stay. That would be fair, wouldn’t it? And it would ease her guilt at not being able to help somewhat. Well, a little anyway.
It was kind of a moot point right that minute, though. She sighed. ‘I can’t bring them with me to the office. If I mess up this contract…’ The words trailed off.
Despite the serious tone of her statement, Brendan’s eyes sparkled with amusement. With her scowl as a response, he cleared his throat and forced a calm look on his face. ‘You’re right. Having seen what they can do to a living room in one afternoon, I guess the office is probably not a good idea mid-presentation.’
‘Cream was a practical colour for a suite when I lived here alone.’ She thought nostalgically of the days when all the creams and beiges of her modern interior had looked pristine. They couldn’t have spilt something on something darker, where it wouldn’t have shown, could they?
A small chuckle escaped. ‘Thank the Lord for cushions, though. They can cover any flavour fruit juice. Even blackcurrant.’
Teagan glared. ‘I’m glad you find this so amusing.’
‘Aw, c’mon—you can barely see the stains when the cushions are in the right places. I always knew there had to be some use for throw cushions.’ He continued to smile, adding with a shrug, ‘They’re such a girl thing.’
‘I still know the stains are there.’ She did her best to hide a smile of amusement. Though at the time it had happened she hadn’t been so amused. She’d worked damn hard to have her lovely home lovely, spent hours poring over catalogues and wandering around furniture stores. Making things kid-proof had never once been a consideration in any of her purchases.
Pushing his large frame away from the edge of a granite counter-top, Brendan walked the two paces necessary to stand right in front of her, his voice silken. ‘They need you.’
‘I’m not their mother, though. Their mother should be here.’ She tried really hard not to notice how close he was, or how he made words sound so seductive. Her eyes flickered up to his face. Was it possible for someone to look better under close inspection than they did from a distance? Even after nine years? Lord alone knew if she stood that close to her own reflection she’d find flaws. Plenty of them. And every blasted one of them a reminder that she wasn’t twenty-one any more.
With a swallow she forced herself to stare at a dark button on the front of his shirt. Buttons were nice, safe things to look at. She would just focus on the button while she forced herself to find some miraculous solution to her dilemma. Reasoning to herself that while focusing on the button she wouldn’t get distracted by looking into deeply blue eyes. Even when she knew they were still looking at her.
‘No, you’re not their mother.’ He waited patiently until his silence, and his close proximity, forced her eyes to tilt up to meet his again. ‘But they need you to be a substitute for them right now. You don’t really have a choice, do you?’
‘I’m aware of that, thank you.’
‘Then you just have to manage. You’ll be grand.’
He made it sound so simple. How could he know? It wasn’t as if she’d ever explained to him the life choice she’d made such a long time ago. A choice that most certainly didn’t involve three children running around to shatter her solitude. It didn’t involve responsibility for any other life. Even one as small as a cat or a goldfish. No baggage. Eimear was supposed to have grown up enough so that she wasn’t Teagan’s responsibility any more. So that Teagan just had herself to look out for. And there were times when that was tough enough on its own.
She shouldn’t have to do this kind of thing any more. It just wasn’t fair. The petulant thought brought a frown to her face. Damn it. Now she was going to huff like a teenager too? That was great—just fabulous.
He watched her scowl for a few seconds, then turned his face from hers as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans. ‘I’ve told you I’ll help out where I can.’ He glanced back at her face. ‘And I mean that. I’ll not see you stuck.’
‘I know. You’ve said.’ She swallowed down a bubble of frustration. He just always had been such a nice guy, hadn’t he? And the simple truth was he was better with the children than she was—which made her even more resentful of his presence than she already was. ‘But this really isn’t your problem. It’s mine. I really don’t need you to feel you have to hop over here to rescue me every time there’s a crisis.’
‘Every guy likes to play the knight in shining armour now and again.’ He flashed a grin at her while ignoring her petulant tone. ‘You just happen to be the nearest damsel, is all.’
Teagan hated the idea of being seen as a damsel in distress. So much for all her years trying to be a strong and independent career girl. Capable and self-sufficient. All it took was something really heavy round her house, or her nemesis of something electrical, and she was as much use as a chocolate kettle.
But Brendan had to have work of his own to do—things that took up his time. She swallowed as she thought, Dates to occupy him.
She watched with slightly narrowed eyes as he turned, removed a hand from his pocket to rescue his mug and walked the two paces it took for him to get to the sink to rinse it out. Somewhere in her mind it occurred to her that everyone else took a lot longer to walk around her open-plan kitchen. But Brendan was so damned tall that he seemed to get everywhere in two long, confident steps. She’d forgotten over the years just how tall he was.
He certainly was way head and shoulders above her shoeless five foot seven. When he was around she had always had moments where she felt feminine. Maybe even a little small and damselish.
‘So, what are you going to do if you won’t accept some help?’
Good question.
