The Promise. Robyn Carr

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think I’m going to cry,” Peyton said.

      Jenny turned toward her and gently stroked her cheek with her small hand, turning her beautiful big brown eyes up at Peyton. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

      Oh, God! Did she really hear right? She’s four!

      Stop, Peyton, stop! Do not fall in love with these children! They belong to the boss! Another package deal that didn’t work out, that would hurt way too much. She didn’t even have a whole heart left after what Ted and his children put her through.

      “Now he’ll make his house fly and be happy and fun.”

      “That Disney,” Peyton said. “They take no prisoners.” And she sniffed.

      * * *

      Scott felt terrible about imposing on Peyton. It was criminal! She was new in town, had come in to the clinic ahead of schedule just to help out and try to cover for Devon, and what had he done? Not only worked her to a full-time schedule, but gone off on an emergency that sucked up over eight hours. It was after midnight, and there was still confusion and commotion at the hospital, banged-up children sleeping on cots, couches, chairs and gurneys.

      Of course, had he not thoroughly checked out her résumé, talked to former employers and observed her with children in the clinic, he might not have dared. He absolutely believed he could trust her with his children.

      He crept quietly into the house; the kitchen light was on as well as a living-room light. The TV was off, and there was no one on the couch, but there was a fort in the dining room. And out of the fort stuck two grown-up feet.

      He laughed to himself.

      He crouched down and shook her foot. “Peyton,” he whispered.

      She sat up with a start and bashed her head into the dining room table. She went back down with a thud.

      “Shit. Peyton. Peyton. Are you knocked out?” Scott said. And then, for lack of a better idea, he grabbed her ankles and pulled her out from under the dining room table. Her eyes were open, her black hair streaming out behind her, and she was glaring at him. “Damn, I’m sorry! It’s that table-leaf insert, it hangs down a—” He squinted at her. “Um, we might need a little ice there.”

      “I’ll be fine,” she said tartly.

      “You fell asleep in the fort. Happens to me all the time.” He rubbed a spot on his forehead. “So does that.”

      “What time is it?” she asked.

      “It’s almost one. I’m so sorry, this never should have happened. I don’t take advantage of people like that, I swear. I extended babysitting to Devon long before I asked her to help me. But then I had Gabby’s help. And, man, all in one week, Gabby has to leave, Devon gets married, you start working for the clinic and a church camp bus holding thirty-seven kids wrecks.” He shook his head. “If that ever happens again, I’m moving....”

      She started to get up. He held out a hand to help. “I want to hear about it. All of it...” she said.

      “It’s so late.”

      “I know. And you’re so tired. But seriously, I saw little snippets of news, and I want to know what it was like. What you found when you got there, what you did, how you helped...because I was thinking, if you had had a babysitter, I could’ve gone. I’ve only been involved in a couple of emergencies like that, but it really got my motor running.”

      He grinned at her. “I should’ve known. An excitement junkie. I’ve had too much coffee to sleep right away, anyway,” he said, heading for the kitchen table. “Was there any video?”

      “The same one, over and over—bus on its side, a couple of banged-up cars, enough kids to start a small school.”

      “It was a miracle there were no serious injuries. Only two broken bones and they were transported to Eugene. Cuts and scrapes and bruises.” He got out his cell phone and brought up the pictures. It was common practice since his residency, taking pictures of injuries to refer to afterward. “That’s going to need a plastic surgeon referral, but I did the best I could on the stitches. That wicked hematoma earned a head CT and overnight in the hospital. Go ahead, look through them. All parents were notified, and by the time I left, most of the kids had been united with their parents. That’s a wide-awake nightmare—send your kids off to camp and get that kind of phone call.” He shook his head. “How were mine?”

      “Perfect,” she said. “Very well behaved.”

      “I probably owe most of that to Gabriella. Such a gentle soul, but she’s firm.”

      “They’re almost abnormally good,” Peyton said.

      He just laughed. “Oh, they have their moments. Especially Will. I didn’t know when we named him that it was short for Willful.”

      “He was a little prince.”

      “I told him he wouldn’t get to camp on the beach if I heard one complaint.”

      “He is very excited about that. He invited me to join you.”

      “Oh?” Scott asked.

      She yawned. “Unfortunately, I’m busy.”

      “We haven’t picked a day yet.”

      “Whatever day you pick, I’m busy.” She stood. “I’m heading out.”

      Scott stood, too. “You can have Jenny’s bed. The sheets are clean. She’s been in my bed every night since clean sheet day.”

      “That’s generous, but, no. I have a date with my toothbrush.”

      “I have a new toothbrush, Peyton. It’s late.”

      “Going home, Scott. I’m not friendly in the morning.”

      He pulled his keys out of his pocket and handed them to her. “Take my car. Bring it to the clinic sometime tomorrow. And don’t feel obligated to show up to work if you can use the rest—this is bonus time, anyway.”

      “I’ll be there,” she said. “I’ll drive your car to the clinic and take mine home from there. You have an extra car key, don’t you?”

      He nodded. He couldn’t help but smile at her. Damn she was beautiful. Too bad about that not-interested-in-men thing because she really rocked a pair of jeans. Her legs were long, her ass so round and firm. He suddenly knew how women felt, the women who asked why were all the really good ones gay?

      “Your car will be safe parked at the clinic, next to the sheriff’s office.”

      “I’m not worried about the car, Peyton. And thanks a million, really. I promise that isn’t going to be a habit—it’s not in your job description to babysit for me. Devon will be home day after tomorrow.”

      “Babysitting isn’t a commitment I can make, but this was an emergency. A rare emergency. And your kids are enjoyable. I don’t feel taken advantage of.”

      * * *

      Scott

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