he didn’t correct himself. As a live-in nanny, Stephanie was going to be a part of the family for a while, even if she was everything he didn’t want in a nanny.
Not outwardly, anyway.
What had happened to the peculiar cross between Mary Poppins and Nanny McPhee that he’d been expecting to show up at his door? Instead, Stephanie had soft, delicate features, high cheekbones, a pretty smile, wave upon wave of sun-drenched, fair hair and warm brown eyes that a man could easily get lost in.
He didn’t feel like it sometimes, but he was still a living, breathing man. He was going to trip over Stephanie’s beauty every time he looked at her. He’d erroneously assumed, from her upside-down umbrella avatar on the Parents of Preschoolers classified board that she’d be…
Plain?
Homely?
Truth be told, he didn’t know what he’d been expecting, only that the woman still waiting on his doorstep was not it.
Emphasis on waiting. On his doorstep. He ought to kick himself for his discourtesy.
Stepping aside, he gestured for her to go in ahead of him. He averted his gaze from her female sway, but he was unable to keep himself from inhaling the rich oriental fragrance that wafted over him as she swept by. She smelled every bit as good as she looked, which really wasn’t helping matters any. He was uncomfortable enough as it was.
There was no sign of his father, but the twins were huddled around the toy box in the living room. They already had several trucks and trains on the floor and were reaching for more.
“One toy at a time, boys,” Drew reminded them. “Remember our rule.” His gaze shifted to Stephanie. “I tidy up this place at least five times a day, and there are still toys scattered everywhere. They haven’t quite mastered the one-at-a-time rule yet, and they’re easily distracted.”
Stephanie chuckled lightly. “Comes with the territory. I don’t mind at all. Preschoolers and messy go together like butter on toast.”
“Right,” he agreed, noting that her expression softened and her shoulders lost their stiffness when her attention was directed at the children.
Offering Stephanie a seat on the couch, Drew positioned himself on the antique chair near the fireplace. Seconds later, Jamey slipped onto his lap and Matty climbed up his back, wrapping his little arms around Drew’s neck and practically choking him in the process.
Or was it was Stephanie’s smile that was making his throat close so forcefully?
“Have you had dinner? I can make you a sandwich if you like.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted with the hint of a smile.
“Coffee, then?”
She shook her head, and the conversation drifted to a standstill.
Less than a minute passed before Matty’s curiosity got the best of him. The small boy crawled off Drew’s back and launched himself at Stephanie, who caught him with a laugh and tucked him next to her on the couch, under her arm. There was a toy airplane in reaching distance, and Stephanie grabbed it, giving it to Matty complete with a vroom sound.
To Drew’s surprise, Jamey crawled off his lap and settled up on Stephanie’s knee, his thumb tucked in his mouth, a habit Drew hadn’t yet been able to break him out of.
Incredible.
Drew had never seen Jamey cozy up to a person as quickly as he had to Stephanie. It was as if she’d earned the boys’ respect the very first time she smiled. She tickled the boys on the ears and they both squealed with laughter.
“These little men are absolutely darling,” Stephanie said, giggling along with the twins. Her eyes were shining, lighting up her whole countenance. She was definitely in her element with the children.
“They’re a handful,” Drew countered teasingly, though he spoke the truth. He was unable to stop himself from grinning, despite his misgivings about the situation.
“Oh, I’m not worried about that. I love children. I’m happy to be here.”
Drew could see that, and he could sense it, too. She had become immediately attached to his kids, and they clearly liked her. He would be foolish to put her off just because she didn’t look like the nanny he’d pictured in his head. It was what was inside a person’s soul that really counted—like seeing the way his kids had instantly warmed up to her and instinctively trusted her. That spoke volumes about her, in Drew’s mind. Kids had a way of perceiving things about people that weren’t so obvious when seen through an adult’s eyes.
His father picked that moment to hobble across the hallway behind Stephanie. He paused and gave Drew two thumbs-up, grinning and wagging his bushy gray eyebrows for emphasis.
Apparently he approved of her—which was an absolutely frightening thought. Whoops. Drew hadn’t thought of that particular ramification of hiring Stephanie. Pop wasn’t viewing her as a nanny for his grandsons, but as a potential future wife for his son. Drew had seen the impish light in his father’s eyes before, and it never boded well.
He couldn’t imagine how ghastly it would be once his father put his head together with his best lady friend and cohort in mischief, Jo Murphy, the gregarious owner of the Cup O’ Jo Café and the town’s chief matchmaker.
Nanny or not, his pop and Jo Murphy would see romance where there was none. Before he knew it, they would be pestering him half to death. Stephanie, too, for that matter, and she certainly hadn’t signed on for that.
“I hope my father won’t be too problematic for you,” Drew said. “The twins love the gruff old guy, but the simple fact of the matter is that he is getting up in years and he can’t do everything he thinks he can. He doesn’t require any special physical care or anything. For his age, he’s as fit as a fiddle. But he has a tendency to involve himself in matters that don’t concern him. You may want to keep your eye out for him so he doesn’t cause you any trouble.”
He paused and chuckled, but it was a dry, nervous sound rather than a happy one. “Have I overwhelmed you yet? Made you change your mind about working here? I’m sure you’re ready to turn right around and hop on the next plane back to the east coast.”
“I think I can handle your father,” she assured him. “How ornery can one man be?”
“You would be surprised.” Drew cocked his head and twisted his lips in amusement. “He’s going to be in your way. Constantly. And he has an opinion about everything.”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t everybody?”
“Maybe, but my father is especially blustery when he gets into one of his moods. Which is often. Just so you know.”
“Not a problem,” she assured him. “I tend to get along with everybody.”
Somehow, he believed she did.
“Boys,” he stated firmly, addressing the twins, both of whom by that time were using Stephanie as playground equipment, swinging over her shoulders and sliding down her legs—not that she appeared to mind. The crystal-clear sound of her feminine laughter laced the air like stardust.
