Page 11 of A Convenient Secret (Merged #3)

Lily

I shift and look at him wide-eyed. Has he just asked that? He wants me to stay?

Obviously he doesn’t want his kids with yet another new nanny.

I actually enjoyed my week with them. More than I could ever imagine. Could I stay? Having Declan as my boss would be a challenge. But he wasn’t here much. And perhaps, interacting with the grump, I might finally outgrow my silly attraction.

I think I may enjoy being Zach and Zoya’s nanny.

I clear my throat, heat warming my cheeks. Am I really going to accept?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it.” Declan closes his eyes, shaking his head. “It just felt good to have someone here whose presence they embraced. They chased all the other nannies away, but they seem to like you. ”

Oh. I slouch back beside him. I feel strangely deflated, but at the same time happy that Zoya and Zach accepted me.

“Maybe because they knew I’m here for a week only. Have you asked them why they didn’t like the nannies?”

Declan whips his head to me. He looks like I just told him that the markets crashed—I assume that would shock him. After a long, weird pause, he sighs. “I’m failing at this parenting job.”

“No, you’re not.” Our faces are so close to each other. I take his tumbler again to break the closeness. “I only have five days of experience, but it’s hard.”

“So fucking hard.” He takes the glass before I have a chance to take a sip and downs the amber liquid.

I enjoyed sharing a drink with him. I should probably head out, but this rare moment of closeness with Declan has smoothed the frayed edges of my lonely soul. It shouldn’t, and I don’t understand why it does.

Besides my girlfriends, this is the first evening in over a year that I don’t feel alone. Ironic, given that I’m sitting here with a man who seems to mostly avoid or ignore me.

Earlier, when his face was only inches from mine, and his gaze hugged me in exciting anticipation, I really thought he was going to kiss me.

He was probably just studying my crooked nose, while na?ve me thought that a man like Declan could ever want a girl like me.

When I saw him in the tux earlier, oozing power and sex appeal, I realized how unattainable he was. My body can tingle all it wants, but he’s all man and dominance, and I’m just a girl with very little experience. I can’t possibly attract him.

“You really never asked them?” I ask, because talking about his kids is safe territory. Also because I don’t want to leave.

Perhaps it’s the whiskey, but my legs feel heavy. Rooted beside him.

Also, I’m homeless. In the madness of adjusting to the childcare demands, I forgot to call Cora to arrange a sleepover.

While I was in the shower this morning, Mrs. Whitaker broke into my room and packed my things. Not a difficult task, since I only have one suitcase and a box of personal things I accumulated since I arrived.

Both are now stored in the closet in Declan’s entry hall. I don’t want him to see me dragging those out. I should have taken care of that earlier. Before the school run. What was I even doing?

“Every time a nanny left, I was overwhelmed. Between the search for a new one, juggling the schedule…” He looks at me now, and it’s jarring.

His gaze is soft, and there is so much pain in his expression. He really believes he’s been failing as a father.

He shrugs. “I just assumed it’s a phase.”

“I’m sure the new nanny is really good.”

“You’re really good at this. I didn’t even realize I should tell them they get a new teacher in Grade One. Fuck, I didn’t even know they were attached to the current one.”

“Declan.” I sigh, wanting to give him a hug, to make him smile. Anything to make his anguish go away.

He makes a sound between a groan and a choke, like his name on my lips gives him pain. I guess I shouldn’t be this familiar with him.

“After their mother left them, I just focused on handling it all, keeping them alive and safe, but mostly keeping myself sane. My work gives me sanity, so I tried to schedule my kids around my work. How pathetic is that?”

His admission puzzles me. This man who is so formidable—successful, accomplished, confident, and often aloof—offered me a glimpse of his softer side. A side that worries, that cares, that loves.

I wish he hadn’t done that. I wish I could still pretend he is an arrogant bastard who doesn’t even acknowledge my presence most of the time. And he is all of that, but now I see him in a different light.

I wish I didn’t.

“You’re here every morning and cook them breakfast. You could easily leave that to your housekeeper like many fathers in your position would do. And you try to be here every evening.”

He looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, you didn’t manage this week, but your housekeeper told me that that’s the exception, not the rule.” I smile, and he looks away.

“Now you’re just making me feel better.”

“Don’t be modest. It doesn’t suit you.” I throw his words back at him, and a rare but very real smile twitches his lips.

“Touché.” He stands up. “I’m going to get a refill. Do you want one?”

“I’ll share yours.” The words are out before I can stop them. What’s wrong with me?

He narrows his eyes but smirks. “Okay.”

I fully expect him to come back with two glasses, but he doesn’t. He takes a sip and passes me the glass, sitting beside me again.

I was surprised when he did it earlier. He could have just sent me home, but it felt like he needed company. God knows, I welcome some too. Especially if it comes with the side of his velvety timbre.

“I don’t mean to pry, but where is their mother?” I take a generous sip and start coughing .

Declan takes the glass from me. “Careful there, Seagull.”

“Seagull?” I chuckle.

“I wanted to say sailor, but that doesn’t fit you at all.”

“And a seagull does? They are like the rats of the ocean.” I wrinkle my nose, but a part of me loves that he gave me a nickname. Okay, he used it once, but still.

“Have you ever watched them glide through the air? They have grace and lightness. You could be a seagull.”

Has he just given me a compliment? A grin stretches across my face. “If you knew how many of your plates I broke this week, you would call me clumsy, not graceful.”

He snorts. “Believe me, I know.”

I gasp. “You do?”

He flinches but then shrugs. “I count my dishes; I’m a numbers man.”

What? And weirdly enough, I could totally see him doing that. “Are you teasing me?”

He smirks.

“Wow, I didn’t know you had it in you. Joking?”

He takes a sip. “I possess basic social skills.”

I chuckle. “Basic? Basic social skills are hello, please, and thank you. You usually have a stick up your ass. ”

He gives me a mock gasp. “You break half of my dishes, and now you offend me?”

“I’m sorry.” I can’t stop grinning.

“It’s just dishes, but perhaps fewer sharp shards around my children will be welcome.” He hands me the whiskey.

I take a small sip, savoring the smooth heat of it. When I open my eyes, they meet with Declan’s. He’s been looking at me a lot tonight. It’s unnerving. But not all that bad. Not at all.

“Still, I can’t be called graceful.” It was my father’s second biggest regret.

First, that I wasn’t a son, and then that I turned out less than a perfect female heir. Not that his standards were ever fair.

“Okay, you are loud and chatty, so you still can be a seagull.”

I laugh. It doesn’t escape me how he skillfully avoided my questions about his ex-wife, but I don’t want to bring her up again. This lighter conversation is such a rare, unexpected occurrence, I want to revel in it longer.

“At least you didn’t say my hair is almost as bad as what A Flock of Seagulls used to sport.”

“A Flock of Seagulls?” He takes the glass, frowning.

“A band from the eighties. ”

“How would you know a band from the eighties? What are you, like twenty-two?” He swirls the liquid but doesn’t drink.

I wonder how much he drank tonight. His breath is as intoxicating as the drink. Is that the reason he is more approachable tonight? Will he go back to being himself and pretend I don’t exist next time he sees me at Saar’s or Celeste’s?

“I’m twenty-five, and I don’t know the band, but you must remember the Friends episode.”

“I’ve never watched it.”

I pivot, not believing him. “You never watched that episode?” I scoot my legs under me, angling my body toward him.

His profile is exquisite. His jaw is veiled in dark stubble. Tonight he looks slightly older, with all the lines of exhaustion marring his forehead and the dark circles under his eyes. They make him look more alluring, too.

“I’ve never watched the show.” He takes another sip and hands me the glass.

I ignore it. “What do you mean you’ve never watched the show?”

“I don’t have time for television. It was never watched in my house growing up. I have a theater upstairs where I occasionally watch movies. And I have a TV in my office, but I only rarely watch the news.” He shrugs.

“I thought you didn’t have a TV so the kids don’t watch until they’re older. I grew up in a house where my great-grandmother’s TV blared at full blast all the time. She refused hearing aids, so I feel like television has been the background of my childhood.”

I loved hiding in her rooms growing up.

He studies me for a moment, and somehow it makes me feel bare. Why did I mention my nana? I never talk about my family, because that only opens me up to questions about my background. Questions I can’t answer.

“Where are your glasses?”

I touch my face. Shit. Have I forgotten them… Where? When was the last time I had them on? I’m always so careful with them. “I must have left them in Zoya’s room. Let me get them.”

“I can grab them.”

We both stand up at the same time, and my hip bumps him. I lose balance and almost fall back onto the sofa. Only I don’t, because Declan wraps his arm around me. His effort to prevent my fall plasters me against his chest.

We freeze. Well, I kind of daze at him, immobile, but Declan goes rigid. He doesn’t release me, though. It’s like he doesn’t know what to do with me .