Page 10 of Surrendering His Heart (Buena Hills #4)

The real nanny applicant. How much had she seen?

By the alarm written across her face, Christian knew she’d witnessed the entire unfortunate event. And she did not like what she’d seen.

Fantastic.

She yanked the door open, hastily folded her ample body inside, and started the engine. Her tires squealed as she peeled away from the curb.

“Awesome,” Christian muttered bitterly. Blowing out a breath, he faced Hallie. “I’m sorry. My daughter is … she’s having a hard time right now. Are you hurt?”

“No. Of course not.” She held out the box again. “You seem like you could use this.”

He pushed out a desperate laugh as he took the offering. “Thanks.” He stole a glance toward the house, then back at her. “Uh…”

“Really, I’m fine. Go.” Hallie shooed him away with both hands.

Christian didn’t need more encouragement than that. He nodded briefly at her before stalking back toward the house. Once inside, he set the box on the coffee table before carrying Penelope upstairs to her room. She didn’t object when he set her on the pink shag rug with some toys.

Leaving her door open, he returned to the hall, approaching Isla’s open door. He stopped for a moment to figure out how to address what had happened outside. She was so smart for her age, but she was still a child, and he needed to approach this delicately.

Isla’s bedroom resembled what Christian would expect from a princess’s Halloween party.

A mural of a giant black witch’s hat, complete with gold ribbon circling the inside of the brim, took up most of one wall above the purple wainscoting.

A collage of ballerinas in tutus decorated for the holiday adorned another, while a pink silhouette of a castle hung on a third.

Christian couldn’t take credit for the creativity of the space.

Both girls’ rooms were the products of Mom’s and Dani’s imaginations.

Isla sat cross-legged on top of the purple-and-pink puffy bedspread, partly shadowed by the open teepee canopy draping across the bed from the ceiling. Arms wrapped tightly around their dog, her shoulders shook.

Pushing out a centering breath, he knocked softly on the purple doorframe. “Can I come in?”

She nodded but buried her face deeper in Pumpkin’s fur.

Christian approached the bed, tossing aside a pink stuffed jack-o-lantern—one of many pumpkins decorating the room. He sat down on the edge of the mattress. “Will you explain to me what happened out there?”

He held his breath, waiting for her explanation.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Finally, his daughter sniffed. “Why am I so different?”

He hadn’t expected that answer. “What do you mean?”

Isla removed her face from Pumpkin’s fur but still refused to look at him. “Sammy Pritchard told everyone in class not to be friends with me because I don’t have a daddy and a mommy. Everyone knows a family is supposed to have a daddy and a mommy.”

Christian sighed. Not Sammy Pritchard. For some reason, Isla’s former best friend had developed a personal vendetta against her.

I guess I’ll be having a conversation with her mother.

Again. The thought made him want to scream.

Talking to the neighborhood gossip was never a pleasant experience for any normal person .

Not that he came close to normal. Most twenty-seven-year-olds—particularly those working in his office—were enjoying their single lives, partying at a new club every weekend or spending their vacation time in exotic places with friends.

They weren’t doing a lousy job of raising two kids on their own, that was for sure.

He dropped a hand onto his daughter’s knee. “Isla, look at me.”

She raised her head. Tears hung on her long lashes, twisting the proverbial dagger right through his heart.

“How many times have I told you not to listen to Sammy?” he asked gently. “She’s wrong. Families come in all shapes and sizes. I guarantee some of the kids in your class come from families that look a little different.”

Isla didn’t respond.

“Heck, Marcus Taylor doesn’t live with a mom or a dad. He lives with his aunt.” The Taylors lived on the next street over. Both of Marcus’s parents had died in a car accident while he was still a toddler. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter what a family looks like. What matters is that the people in it love and take care of each other.”

Isla moved another jack-o-lantern plush—purple this time—from her side and scooted toward Pumpkin, an unspoken invitation for Christian to slide into the vacated spot.

Accepting it, he tucked his little girl close to him. “And you have something Sammy Pritchard doesn’t have.”

“I do?”

“Yeah. You have a pretty awesome sister, for one thing.” As if on cue, a crash of toys came from the next room, followed by Penelope’s squeal. “And a grandma who lives nearby.”

“And Aunt Dani.”

He smiled down at her. “We can’t forget about Aunt Dani. All of them love you so much and want you to be happy. And so do I.”

Hope mingled with the sorrow lingering in her eyes. “I love you too, Daddy.”

Untangling herself from Princess Pumpkin, she climbed onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Burying his face in her curls, he soaked in all the comfort her hug provided.

Despite being the adult tasked to soothe and protect, it never ceased to amaze him how any affection from his girls had the effect of calming his own emotions.

“But Isla,” he said after a minute, sliding her backward on his legs enough to look her in the eye, “it’s never okay to kick people.”

She dropped her gaze to the bedspread. “I know. I just … don’t want another nanny. I miss Annelise.”

Christian tucked her securely back in his embrace. “So do I.”

“Why can’t you stay home with us?”

“I really wish I could.” He meant that more than anything. “But it’s my responsibility to take care of you. You know what responsibility means, right? We’ve talked about it.”

She thought for a few seconds. “It’s doing the things you have to do, even when it’s not fun, and you’d rather do something you love.”

“That’s right.” He tapped the end of her nose with his finger.

“And part of my responsibility is making money so you and Nellie have all the things you need to grow big and strong. That means I have to go away sometimes and someone else has to care for you, even though I’d rather be here.

But I won’t stop looking until I find a nanny who thinks you’re the coolest kid on the planet. ”

“Pinky promise?”

He held up both fists with only his little fingers extended. “Double pinky promise.”

Her smile finally broke free and she locked her pinkies with his. She kissed her fist as Christian leaned forward to do the same with his. He couldn’t remember the origins of their little ritual, but their pinky promises were as binding as signing a legal document.

“But you need to make me a promise too,” he said, arching an eyebrow.

“What’s that?”

“No more kicking. Okay?”

She snuggled into his chest. “Okay.”

They sat for several minutes, the sounds of Penelope playing in the next room the only thing breaking the silence. Christian leaned his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes. He’d handled this crisis, and he appreciated the momentary pause from the chaos.

Because he never knew when the next storm would blow through, but it always did.

It always did.