Page 4 of Worth the Try (Atlanta Granite #1)

Elodie

T HE FIRST MAN to enter the room isn’t even human.

He can’t be. He’s tall, easily over six feet, and I’m not a tiny woman by any stretch of the imagination.

His muscles have muscles, straining the teal and black Atlanta Granite T-shirt he wears.

His shorts are longer than the ones they wore on the pitch, but not by much.

His wavy brown hair is wet from the shower, and I’m hit with a fantasy of him in that shower, water sluicing down his face and neck, gathering in the small divots of his shoulders before traveling south.

I swallow and shake myself out of it, but there is nothing in this world that can keep me from staring.

He sports a closely trimmed beard that does little to cover a square jaw.

If anyone’s looking for a new superhero, I found him.

There are no words to do him justice. He’s both beautiful and rugged, carrying himself with the precision and confidence of someone who’s used to commanding a room.

The floor shakes as he leads a handful of men into the room, his dark eyes instantly catching on mine and flaring.

But it’s not a flare of anything other than pure suspicion.

“Daddy!”

Immediately, his expression changes, the intimidation falling off his face as he breaks into a delighted smile.

“Rosie Posie,” he responds, his voice deeper than I expected, delivered with a slight Southern twang that also throws me.

He crouches to catch her, scooping her into his arms and standing a moment later.

Rosalie smiles happily. “Miss Kari is here, and I made a new friend!”

“Oh yeah?” He turns to Kari and me, his expression still guarded, but more curious now.

“Rosalie Miles, my rugby princess!” another man exclaims in an accent I can’t yet place, making Rosalie giggle. He’s just as big as Rosalie’s father, with dark red hair and ruddy cheeks. “Get out of that ogre’s arms and give me a hug.”

Rosalie wriggles down and gets a hug from the man while her dad’s gaze turns back to me.

Kari finally remembers her manners, stepping forward to introduce us. “Ansel Miles, this is my best friend, Elodie Cole.”

“Nice to meet you.” I extend my hand, and it disappears into Ansel’s in a powerful handshake.

“Hi,” comes the response. Polite, but distant.

“I thought Rosalie was going to be with her grandparents?” Kari asks, her voice low.

Ansel sighs, his face tensing. “Long story.”

Kari raises her eyebrows. “Leaving her up here?—”

“Won’t be happening again,” he finishes. “I just have to figure things out.”

“So who’s watching her?”

“That’s one of the parts he hasn’t figured out yet,” the man holding Rosalie says. Then he holds his hand out, delivering a devastatingly flirtatious smile along with it. “Lennox Campbell.”

“Elodie Cole.” I smile back, finally placing the accent. Scottish.

“We were hoping to get y’all’s help with moving some furniture.” Kari elbows me. “Right?”

“Oh. Right.” My cheeks flame, and I’d rather count the tiles on the floor in here.

Asking strangers for help is ten kinds of wrong.

It’s a burden. I should be able to do this myself.

Or if not do it myself, then pay someone to do it.

And I have the money—for now, at least—but Kari wouldn’t let me consider it.

“Och, the old ‘let’s ask the ruggers to toss around my belongings’ move,” Lennox says. “We know all about that, don’t we, Rosie?”

Rosalie nods seriously. “We require pizza and beer as payment.”

Lennox’s smile could lay waste to an entire continent. “Exactly.”

“But juice for you,” Ansel states, one lone eyebrow rising as if it’s got a mind of its own. The move highlights the scar that runs through it, making him look more intimidating than ever.

“It’s not a big deal,” I blurt, my worries getting the best of me. “I’m sure y’all are busy. This was a silly idea.” I turn to Kari. “We should go. I can call a moving company or something.”

“Are we moving the contents of a mansion?” Lennox asks.

“We’re moving things?” another guy pipes up.

“Just, um, just a duplex.”

“A small duplex,” Kari offers. “Easy peasy. Literally one trip. And I’ll supply all the pizza.”

“When?” comes a chorus of inquiries.

I force my voice to stay steady. Remind myself that I’m not asking for the world. “Two weeks.”

“Why?” Ansel’s question is gruff.

I wince. It’s embarrassing to get fired at thirty. And besides, it’s none of his business.

“Her job downsized her, and now her landlord is kicking her out, so she’s moving in with me while she figures out what to do next.”

“Kari!” I hiss at my former best friend. Is she serious right now? “They don’t need to know all of that.”

Lennox leans in. “You need a job? You like kids?”

“Lennox,” Ansel warns.

Kari’s head swivels between the two men. “Wait—what’s going on?”

“Rosalie.” Ansel nods at his daughter. “I’m…in a bit of a bind.”

And suddenly, it all makes sense. Rosalie mentioned she was here because her dad couldn’t find anyone to watch her, but I’d assumed she meant only for today. Does he need someone to watch her for the entire summer?

Do I want to do that?

“It’s a great idea,” Lennox continues, turning to me. “So?”

“Um.” I stare at the floor.

“Will everyone calm down for a minute?” Ansel turns to me, and I wish he hadn’t.

Because something about his voice makes me look back at him.

And, whew boy, the intensity of his gaze is enough to make me squirm.

As though I’ve done something wrong. I haven’t, of course, but tell that to the fight-or-flight response currently taking place inside my body.

But then his eyes soften, and the brackets on either side of his lips disappear. He keeps his focus on me as he continues, “You two are a lot. Give Elodie a moment to adjust to the idea and consider it. Most people aren’t dying to be nannies for a summer.”

The way he says my name gives me shivers. Then again, it’s ice cold in here.

Lennox snorts. “And live in your pool house? My man, if I weren’t going home to Scotland, I’d do it.”

Ansel doesn’t bother looking at him, his expression all business.

I get the feeling he’d be just as comfortable in a suit as shorts and a T-shirt.

“He’s right. If you want the job—and if you pass the background check and interview we need to have—then yes, you would be required to live in the guesthouse on my property. ”

“Oh, excuse me,” Lennox interrupts. “The guesthouse on his property. My sincerest apologies, me laird.” He gives an exaggerated bow, winking as he straightens.

Rosalie giggles.

Just the summer? In a guesthouse? With a pool ?

A wave of nausea hits. Do I really want to put myself in a situation where I’m around the very thing I can’t have? The very thing my fiancé broke it off with me for? I exhale, looking around for a chair. I thought I was past this.

Apparently not.

“Hey.” Ansel’s voice breaks through the noise as his face comes into focus. His warm caramel eyes flit over my face with concern. “Come sit down. You okay?”

A warm, calloused palm encircles my elbow and steers me to the padded bench against the windows. Heat ripples out from the glass, but it does little to dispel the chill that’s draped itself over me.

This is too much. I cradle my stomach and squeeze my eyes shut in a feeble attempt to keep the memories at bay.

Jeremy’s expression is carefully blank, reminding me so much of my father that it opens up a pit inside me. “I love you, but I want kids. I’m moving out. Keep the ring.”

“Miss Elodie?” Rosalie’s sweet voice comes softly from my right. “Want some water?”

I look down and blink, seeing that the little girl has brought me a cup of water. I take it, grateful she’s not filled it too much, and hoping no one can see the way my hand shakes.

“There,” Rosalie says. “Drink up. Sometimes I get lightheaded, and Daddy says it’s because I’m so busy talking that I forget to eat or drink.” With a motherly pat on my leg, she scampers off.

My mouth twitches. She’s painfully adorable.

With a soft snort, Ansel lowers himself to the bench, crossing a powerful leg on the cushion so he can face me. “I’m sorry about Lennox… and Kari. They’re quite the duo when they get something in their head.”

Shaking my head, I force the rest of the cobwebs away and pull myself together.

No one wants to watch me have a mini breakdown over a sudden job and housing offer.

It’s not Ansel’s fault that he unknowingly put three of my fantasies on a platter and offered them to me.

Or, maybe Lennox offered. Either way. And my inability to have kids is certainly not his issue to sort through.

“It’s fine,” I murmur, making myself meet his eyes and immediately wishing I hadn’t.

Because now the sun is hitting him just right, highlighting the swirls of light caramel within his deep brown eyes and the faint traces of auburn in his beard.

He’s human after all, it seems, and the look of concern on his face makes him that much more devastating.

On a blink, he seems to come to a decision. “Just forget about them. You clearly aren’t interested?—”

“I’ll do it.” The words are out of my mouth so quickly that I barely register what I’ve said. “I mean,” I stammer, “if you’re actually offering. But I have a cat. And people are weird about cats.”

“Cats are fine.”

I keep going, blowing forward. “You don’t know anything about me, but I’m really nice, and I was a killer babysitter when I was a teenager.

I mean, not killer, that sounds bad. But good.

Great. I was great . I even have first-aid training.

It’s been a decade or so, but—” I stop, caught off-guard by the brilliant smile he’s giving me.

“So, you’re interested.”

“Uh, yeah.” I wince. Uh, yeah ? I’m a thirty-year-old woman. “Sorry, I mean yes. I’d love to talk more.”

“How’s now?”

“Now?”

The smile barely dims. “Yes. Now.”

A nervous laugh bubbles out. “Do you make a habit of interviewing people on the spot?”