CHAPTER 18
Zaki
A fter being in the depths of despair—a phrase my girls picked up from Anne of Green Gables and had been using at least twice daily—last night, I went to sleep with renewed positivity and a big dose of hope.
And heartfelt pleas to never dye my hair again, lest it turn green like when Anne tried to rid herself of her unwanted red hair.
Arwyn hadn’t disagreed when I told her she knew my heart, and she hinted that I knew hers. I could read what she wasn’t saying. We had feelings for each other that were crossing the lines of friendship. With her intuitive inclination and me wearing my heart on my sleeve, I was sure she was able to read into my expressions.
In my soul, I knew we could be good for each other, and I wanted to find out. The tricky part was exploring that while she was working for me. If it didn’t work out, the girls and I would be crushed. And if it did work out, would she move to Montreal?
There was only one way to find out.
However, I had to be careful not to come on too strong and scare her away. I lived my life big, and she was showing me how living small could be the best way of all.
As I helped the girls get ready for school, I told them Arwyn was sleeping in. They humored me as I tried to braid their hair, but despite my best efforts, it was a major fail.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, Isles?”
“You go make Wynnie breakfast in bed. Then she’ll be awake and can fix our hair.”
I snorted. “It doesn’t look that bad.”
Amelie shook her head sadly, holding up her barely-held-together braids. “Daddy! You used zip ties. It’s an abomination.”
I barked out a laugh deep from my gut. “That’s a big word.”
“Daddy, all the girls will think Wynnie doesn’t care about us if our hair is a mess. And that’s not true. She has to do our hair.” Amelie’s last sentence came out as a whimper.
“Okay, Amms, no need to cry,” I said quickly. “You girls go knock—gently—on Wynnie’s door and ask for her help. I’ll make pancakes.”
“Yay!”
I followed them down the stairs and into the kitchen. Arwyn’s door opened, and I was relieved to see her sitting up in bed, reading the book she’d had last night.
I snuck at least a dozen glances as I warmed up Chef’s pancakes and set up a tray for Arwyn. Pancakes, syrup, hot tea, napkin, fork. As an afterthought, I added a scoop of strawberry ice cream on top of her stack of pancakes. I carried the tray to her room just as she finished Amelie’s second braid.
“What’s this?” she asked.
I shrugged. “An apology for waking you up?”
“Not necessary.” She grinned. “But I’ll take it.”
“Daddy, I want ice cream on my pancakes!”
“Me too!”
“Okay, okay!” I laughed. Arwyn climbed back into her bed, and I set the tray over her lap. “Enjoy.”
“Oh, I will.”
We grinned at each other. I reluctantly turned away and joined the girls. From my seat at the table, I could see into Arwyn’s doorway. Each time she caught me looking at her, I winked and she quickly averted her gaze.
But each time, her smile grew wider.
After I walked the girls to school, instead of heading home to drive straight to practice, I picked up drinks at the Coffee Loft and walked back to the house. I didn’t want to bother Arwyn if she was already working, but I craved seeing her again.
The front room smelled like roses and hot glue. Arwyn liked to burn a candle while she worked, and it made the place even more cozy.
She was bent over a pile of gauzy fabric at her worktable and was gluing something to it. Her hair was piled on top of her head the way she liked to wear it. A few strands of hair on each side of her face had escaped, framing her ivory complexion and making her freckles stand out.
I stood awkwardly at the doggie gate with the drink carrier, waiting for her to notice me and look up.
“New dress?” I asked.
“I’m actually making something for you. Per the girls’ request.”
“Oh really?” I stepped over the gate and set the drinks on the coffee table and petted each of the dogs on the head.
“Mmhmm.” She still hadn’t looked up. “A tutu. The girls have decided to teach you ballet during your video calls on the road.”
“I see.”
“Be sure to act surprised when they give this to you tomorrow and oversee the packing of it.”
“I’ll be over-the-top grateful.”
“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint.”
“Never. I brought drinks. Not sure if yours is still hot though.”
“Thanks.”
“Anything I can help you with?”
She shook her head. “Just give me a minute to finish gluing the sequins on the ribbon trim.”
“Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven…”
Arwyn let out a small, amused exhale as she leaned back in her chair and looked up at me. “Done. I’m all yours. What’s up?”
All mine? Her gaze lingered on me a beat longer than usual, and suddenly, the air in the room felt … different. Charged.
“I, uh, brought you tea.”
“You said that,” she reminded me. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I bent to pull it from the carrier, and when I straightened up to hand it to her, she was standing.
Close.
Her eyes flicked to my mouth for the briefest second, and my heart did a stupid somersault.
She reached for the tea, but I held onto it. If I let go, I didn’t trust myself not to take her in my arms and kiss her with all the fervor that had been building.
I needed to back away. But I couldn’t. Not when she was looking at me like that, all serious and quiet and beautiful in a way that made me want to memorize every detail. My pulse hammered in my ears as I leaned in just a little closer, close enough to feel the warmth of her breath.
And then?—
“Rrrorroough ruff!”
Arwyn stepped back, eyes wide as the dogs jumped off the sofa and ran to the front door. I turned to follow her gaze out the front window.
Montgomery Biddington was marching up to the porch, holding the gift I’d left on his doorstep on my way home last night.
Well, that had backfired.
Or not.
I probably shouldn’t be kissing my nanny, anyway.
Arwyn hurried to the door and opened it. Monty handed her the metallic-blue-wrapped box. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything important.” He turned to shoot me a smirk. “But I had to return this gift.”
I joined Arwyn and the dogs in the vestibule. “Sorry, no returns.”
He lifted the lid, revealing the egg-filled nest inside. “Birds are gross. My wife is pregnant. We have a cat. No birds. And where is their mama? Did you kidnap them?”
I laughed. Arwyn looked up at me, and I winked. “They’re not real, Monty. I do have a heart, you know.”
“Then use it more often.” He glanced from me to Arwyn and back to me again. “Good luck on your road trip. I’ll see you both at the gala.”
He spun on his heel and marched back to his truck.
Use my heart.
I wanted to. More than anything.
This road trip could not have come at a worse time.
But—the Olympic break would start when I got back. Since I wasn’t playing—I’d declined, citing child-care issues—we could extend the Valentine weekend at the cabin, if Arwyn was amenable to it. I’d even find a way to bring along all her sewing equipment if she asked.