Page 16

O ver the next few weeks, I fall into a comfortable rhythm with Lily, between camp, swim lessons, and trips to the library, all while Maggie works tirelessly to prepare for harvest. I’ve also gotten into the habit of cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the laundry.

Anything to shoulder some of the load for her.

We’re approaching the end of August now, and autumn is right around the corner, bringing with it shorter days and cooler weather.

Lush, heavy fruit hangs from the trees surrounding the main house, waiting to be harvested.

Workers flit around the orchard grounds, picking apples from some areas and monitoring the growth in others .

Clouds drift across the sky above, and a breeze rustles my hair. Taking full advantage of the weather, I’ve spread a tarp on the ground and laid out supplies.

“What is it?” Lily asks, standing next to me with her little hands balled on her hips.

It’s taken more hours than I care to admit and several trips to the local hardware store, but I finally finished sanding down and prepping the old orchard sign for its facelift. “This, little one, is the sign that hangs at the entrance to the orchard. It needs some love.”

“Why?” Her face scrunches, and I bite my cheek to hold in a laugh.

“The sign is the most important part. Without a sign, no one would be able to find the orchard. And they wouldn’t be able to enjoy all the delicious apples.”

Lily’s eyebrows climb up her forehead. “So we have to make it pretty again?”

“Exactly. Do you want to help?”

Her lips purse. “Momma doesn’t like it when I paint. She says it’s too messy .”

This time, my laughter spills free as I recall my conversation with Maggie from my first week. “That’s why we’re outside, little one. The next time it rains, the paint will get washed away if we make a mess. So, what do you say? Wanna help?”

I extend a paintbrush toward her.

Kneeling next to me, she grabs the brush. “Okay!”

Before we came outside, I had Lily change into some old clothes that already had stains, just in case she did get messy .

Over the next hour or so, the sign comes back to life before my eyes. Using a steady hand, my brush trails vibrant red paint along the final flourish of the ‘S’. Sweet Orchard Dreams spelled out in big block letters.

“Done. There’s no way anyone will miss the sign now. What do you think, little one?” Laying my brush on a paint-smudged towel, I turn toward Lily.

Just like the sign, a rainbow of color dots her clothes and hands. Her little tongue pokes out of her mouth, eyes focused on her hand as it forms the final arch of the rainbow she’s been working on for the past few minutes. “Can we do another rainbow?”

“I have a better idea.” Wiping my brush clean on the towel, I load it up with red paint. “Can I see your hand?”

Lily creeps closer and sets her hand in mine. Her precious giggle floats along the breeze when I drag my brush over her thumb. “That tickles! And it’s cold!”

Working quickly, I paint the rest of her fingers in orange, yellow, green, and blue, finishing by painting her palm purple.

“Now, turn your hand over and press it here.” With a gentle touch, I guide her palm down to the corner of the wooden sign, pressing against the back of her hand before pulling it away to reveal a perfect rainbow handprint.

Maggie wanted a new sign, but I’m going to give her an heirloom. Something to make customers feel like they’re right at home when they drive through the front gates.

“Your turn!” Using her paint-stained hand, Lily snatches at the paintbrush in my grasp. Her hand slides onto the sleeve of my crisp blue shirt, leaving a trail of mixed paint behind. She gasps, eyes wide and bulging. “Oh, no,” she whispers, mouth gaping.

Never one to get mad at a child, my booming chuckle fills the air. “I guess I should have chosen a different outfit for such a messy task. Right, little one?” My wink has a smile creeping back onto her face.

She finishes painting my fingers and palm. Together, we add my handprint next to hers. The only thing missing is Maggie’s.

“Let’s get cleaned up. Your mom should be home soon.” Thankfully, I had the foresight to bring an old towel out from the laundry room, so I wipe our hands as clean as I can. “Can you go wash up in the laundry room sink while I finish cleaning up?”

Lily doesn’t move, her eyes fixed on a car coming up the driveway. It’s a luxury sports car, flashy and red, clashing with our current surroundings. “Who’s that?”

My stomach twists. Maggie never has visitors, and something about the tall man stepping out of the fancy vehicle has my hackles rising. “I don’t know,” I say, bracing a hand on Lily’s back. “Go inside and wash up in the laundry room. I’ll be in soon.”

With her gaze locked on the stranger, Lily sprints into the garage. A moment later, the door to the house slams shut.

“You lost?” I call out to the man as he rounds the hood of his car, a smarmy grin on his face.

I recognize the designer brand of his suit. It’s one of my father’s favorite labels and costs a pretty penny. My best guess: this asshole is in the financial world. But why the fuck is he here ?

The man approaches, sneering when dirt scuffs the tops of his shiny brown loafers. Probably designer, too. “Is Ms. Wilcox available?”

Maggie had a meeting in a neighboring town with one of the local grocers today. She seemed genuinely excited this morning at the prospect of another sales deal.

A growl rumbles in my chest with every step the man takes toward me. His presence feels wrong. “Why?” My upper lip curls back, revealing my fangs when the overpowering stench of his expensive cologne hits my sensitive nose.

Ignoring me, his eyes skim past me to the rows and rows of ripe trees. Tucking his hands in his pockets, he rocks onto his toes and lets out a harsh whistle.

Wincing at the sound, I rub one of my ears, but I don’t miss his next statement. “This place really is a goldmine. It’s a shame she’s gonna lose it.” Lose it. What the fuck is he talking about?

“What do you mean?”

A lecherous smirk crawls across his face, and he smooths a hand over the strands of his slicked-back golden hair. “Ms. Wilcox hasn’t paid her mortgage in four months. I’m here to issue her final notice before we seize the property.” There’s a hint of glee in his voice as he spews the words.

The world tilts around me, stomach nearly dropping out of my ass. Maggie’s broke? Why didn’t she tell me?

Why would she? You’re the nanny—nothing else.

I thought we’d reached a point where we were friends. Where she felt she could tell me if she was in trouble.

“There must be some kind of mistake—”

“No mistake. We’ve issued several warnings. Unless she pays the outstanding balance in thirty days, we’ll be forced to evict her.”

No. Maggie can’t lose this place. It means everything to her.

I won’t let that happen. Opening my mouth, I’m ready to offer to pay the money owed when screeching tires draw my attention. Maggie’s truck barrels down the driveway, squealing to a stop next to the banker’s sports car. The engine is barely off before she’s out the door and charging toward us.

“Mr. Fletcher,” she greets, extending a hand to the man.

A low, menacing growl rips from my chest when he grips her dainty hand in his big mitt. I don’t like his hands on her. No one should be touching her, except me.

Wide-eyed, Maggie turns those beautiful green eyes on me, hurt radiating from them in waves. “Viktor, please go inside and check on Lily.”

No is on the tip of my tongue. I don’t want her alone with this man. Every instinct inside me vibrates to life as I approach her. Bending, I whisper in her ear, voice rougher than it should be. “I can stay. I can help.”

Her eyes meet mine when I pull back, burning with anger. Is she mad at me?

She shakes her head. “No. I don’t need a white knight, Viktor. I can handle this. I’ll explain everything later.”

My gaze flits over my shoulder to the sleazy banker—a wolf in an overpriced suit. “You sure?” I swing my eyes back to hers, hoping mine convey how I’d chase this asshole back to the city if she asked me.

Throat bobbing, she nods .

Maggie is a strong, capable woman. She doesn’t need me to fight her battles for her, but I sure as fuck want to.

F rom my place at the front window, I peer through the curtains, eyes locked on Maggie and the man from the bank. Pulling my pocket watch from my vest, I flip it open again.

Ten minutes.

My woman— not yours —has been out there alone with him for ten whole minutes. I should be out there with her.

But she doesn’t see you like that. You’re just the nanny.

Closing my eyes, I let the cool weight of the metal pocket watch in my hand ground me. I can see her, and if he tries anything, I’ll be outside faster than he can blink.

Finally, Maggie hands the man an envelope. His lips move. “Pleasure as always, Ms. Wilcox.” My sensitive ears pick up the faint echo of his voice. Then he’s in his car and speeding away.

Maggie’s whole body deflates, shoulders sagging as her heavy sigh flutters to my ears.

When she turns toward the house, her eyes shimmer with fresh tears. Fuck . I hate that she’s in pain. My heart breaks as the first tear rolls down her flushed cheek.

She wipes it away, going back to her truck and grabbing her bags before coming to the front door.

Her eyes widen when she opens the door and finds me standing on the other side.

“What was that, sweetheart?” I keep my voice soft, opting for a pet name in hopes of calming her.

My gaze drifts to her neck, the rapid pounding of her pulse not slowing in the slightest. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in trouble? ”

“Later, Viktor. Please . I signed over the advance I got from the grocery store today. I bought myself a little breathing room.”

“I can—”

She holds a hand up, silencing me. “This isn’t your problem, city boy.” One corner of her mouth tips into a sad smile, but it doesn’t reach her gorgeous eyes. “Can you get Lily some dinner? I need to go talk with Jean-Luc. I’ll be back in a little while.”

Not giving me a chance to respond, she’s out the door again, disappearing toward the storefront building near the main road.

“ I s Momma coming home soon?” Lily asks from across the kitchen table.

My focus has been divided since the unwanted bank visit this afternoon, but I managed to make a simple dinner of macaroni and cheese with hot dogs for Lily. It’s one of her favorites, and I’d hoped it would distract her from Maggie’s absence.

Ever since my first week, Maggie has made it a point to quit working at four every day so she can have dinner with Lily. Usually, I cook and end up joining them, too, feeding this sick fantasy in my brain that we’re some kind of family.

“I’m sure she’ll be back soon. She had to talk to Jean-Luc.” I had the pleasure of meeting the grumpy minotaur foreman the other day while Lily and I were catching frogs. He is surly, that’s for sure, but he’ll warm up to me.

When? You’re only here for two more months.

I push the thought away and focus on something else, like how to ease some of Maggie’s stress. “We should do something nice for your mom.” The words tumble out before I can stop them.

Lily bounces in her seat, cheeks puffed out with hot dog and noodles. “Like what?” she mumbles around her food.

“Chew and swallow, please.”

Rolling her eyes, she makes a show of swallowing down the food, then repeats her question. “Like what?”

“Well...” An idea springs to the front of my mind. “She does a lot to take care of you. She cooks for you. Cleans up after you. Makes sure you’re happy and safe. Don’t you think she’d like a day of someone taking care of her?”

Lily’s nose scrunches. “Like a doctor? I don’t like the doctor.”

I chuckle. This is good. This is the distraction I need so I don’t dwell on the fact that Maggie is in debt and seems to be avoiding me.

“Not quite, little one. Like someone pampering her and making her feel special. My sister owns a spa in the city. Do you think your mom would like to spend a day there?”

“What’s a spa?”

Right, I doubt a five-year-old has ever been to one. “Umm, well, it’s a quiet place where adults can go to relax.”

Her eyes light up and, suddenly, she’s scampering from the table. Little feet pitter-patter up the stairs and down the hall. The hinges of her bedroom door squeak before a faint jingle floats down the stairs.

Bounding down the steps, Lily hops right over the bottom one, and her socked feet slide on the wood floors as she skids back to the table. Clutched in her tiny hands is a plastic unicorn piggy bank.

“Clever child,” I praise, running a finger under her chin once she’s settled in her chair again.

Unscrewing the bottom of the bank, she shakes the container vigorously, coins of various sizes clattering to the wooden tabletop. “Is this enough to buy Momma a spa day?”

If my eyes are correct, she only has a few dollars, and I don’t plan on letting her use a single cent for Maggie’s spa day. I have plenty of savings to foot the bill, but Lily doesn’t need to know that. “It’s more than enough, but let’s count it to make sure.”

We spend the rest of the evening counting and recounting her money. All the while, my gut churns, waiting for Maggie to get home safe.