for bed? I think Pop-Pop is waiting for you. I’ll be there in a minute to read another chapter of our story to you.”
At least that would keep his father occupied for a while, getting the two squirming, over-excited preschoolers into pajamas and tucked into bed. Drew ruffled their fair hair and kissed each of his boys softly on the forehead before urging them to the back hallway where their room was located.
“Sorry about the interruption,” Drew said once he’d herded the twins down the hall. “Bedtime is a real zoo around here.”
He returned to his seat and braced his elbows on his knees, ignoring the quivering sensation in his stomach as their eyes met.
He cleared his throat, wondering how to start the conversation. There was a lot she needed to know about why she was here, issues he hadn’t felt comfortable discussing over the phone, but that she ought to be aware of if she was going to be working for him.
And he had a few more questions for her, as well.
Like why she’d chosen a temporary position in Serendipity when she’d clearly had a successful career in child care on the east coast. It wasn’t What’s a pretty lady like you doing in a place like this? But it was pretty close. He wasn’t sure if he should be prying, yet it seemed an obvious question.
If it was none of his business, she would no doubt tell him so. But something about her expression gave him pause to consider.
With just the two of them in the room, she appeared uneasy—like a cornered animal, with wide, wild brown eyes staring back at him. Though she was trying to hide it, she was clearly uncomfortable sitting here with him.
Maybe she was just nervous about starting a new job in a new town, but somehow he thought it was more than that. He hoped she wasn’t reconsidering the position. It had been next to impossible just to find someone suitable for these circumstances the first time around. He didn’t know if he would find anyone else willing to do the job.
He fidgeted in his chair, which was unusual for him. Normally, he would just blurt what he was thinking outright. He’d been told on more than one occasion that he was too blunt and outspoken. This might be a good time to work on that defect.
But how did one ease into this kind of subject?
Before he could say a word, there was a knock at the door.
Stephanie jerked in surprise, as her gaze shifted to the door.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, rising. “I wasn’t expecting anyone this evening. It’s probably my father’s friend Jo, although she usually just lets herself in. I’ll only be a moment.”
Stephanie tried to smile, but the color on her face had faded into a serious shade of gray. She clasped her hands together in her lap until her knuckles were white.
“Are you all right?” he asked, concerned.
“I’m—yes,” she stammered. “I’m fine.”
Drew didn’t think she looked fine. She looked terrified. And it had something to do with whoever was potentially knocking at his front door.
Even though he barely knew Stephanie, his deep-rooted protective instincts flared. She had nothing to fear. He wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her while she was in his house, though he couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to. And like he’d said, it was probably Jo Murphy, come to see his pop.
Only it wasn’t Jo Murphy.
Drew opened the door to a lanky young man he’d never seen before, certainly not a resident of Serendipity.
A friend of Stephanie’s? Or worse yet, an enemy?
“Andrew Reid Spencer?” the boy asked, obviously trying to sound official despite the crack in his voice.
Drew’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Why was the young man asking for him?
“Yes,” he replied cautiously. “I’m Drew.”
The boy shoved a manila envelope at Drew’s chest and was backing up before he even spoke. Drew instinctually reached for the envelope, clutching it to his side as the young man made his pronouncement.
“You’ve been served.”
Chapter Two
Stephanie didn’t hear the actual conversation between Drew and his guest. Adrenaline made her heartbeat pulse and pound in her ears in a fierce rhythm, like a roofer hammering nails, drowning out the sound of the men’s voices.
At the knock, she’d experienced a startling moment of panic where she’d actually considered hiding behind the couch. She’d been certain that the man at the door was Ryan, that he’d already tracked her down, determined to charm or intimidate her into going back with him.
Which she would never do.
She wondered how long this indeterminable fear would follow her around. Would she ever not jump when someone knocked on the door?
She was more relieved than she could say when she realized the visit had nothing to do with her, but she felt guilty that it was at Drew’s expense—it didn’t take a genius to figure out something had gone wrong in his world.
He slammed the door and returned to his chair, a crumpled manila envelope clenched in his fist. His breath came in ragged gasps and his face was an alarming shade of crimson. Stephanie braced for the detonation she was sure was to follow, for the man was clearly a ticking time bomb.
The explosion never came. Drew yanked at the knot in his tie and stretched his neck from side to side, but he didn’t yell, or sulk, or throw anything, which is what Ryan did when things didn’t go his way.
Instead, Drew quietly reached into his shirt pocket for his reading glasses and removed from the envelope a crisp white set of legal documents. He released a long, unsteady breath as he silently perused the papers, the worry lines on his forehead deepening. When he was finished, he bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. Stephanie thought he might be praying, but she wasn’t certain. Probably staving off a headache, as well.
The pressure in the air around her seemed to intensify as her mind thought up a number of scenarios that Drew might be facing. She wanted to reach out to him but wasn’t sure how. When she laid a comforting hand on his forearm, his muscles rippled with tension.
“My ex-wife is suing me for full custody of the twins.” The statement was matter-of-fact, but his expression was anything but. Agony flashed through his eyes when he spoke of the woman, and Stephanie winced. She could relate to that kind of pain—of having the person you had expected to spend your life with let you down.
But there was more injury than anger in Drew’s gaze. Stephanie couldn’t claim to be as noble. She despised what Ryan had done to her, and she hated herself even more for having let him, for getting her priorities so mixed up she couldn’t see what was happening to her until it was too late.
But for her, at least, what was done was done, and she was moving forward with her life, starting now.
For Drew, however, it looked as if his troubles were
