Nanny for the Millionaire's Twins Read online

  She glanced at the envelope then at him. “I’m getting paid double?”

  “Only for the six weeks you’ve been here. Think of it like a bonus.”

  A bonus worth thousands of dollars! Money she could put toward schooling. “I don’t know what to say.”

  He smiled. “Say thanks and go and enjoy your holiday.”

  “Thanks.” She headed for the door again, but stopped, faced him. Their relationship had become a little better after the bike ride, but the air between them was always strained. She felt bad for that. Felt bad for drawing him into her troubles. But she also wasn’t so foolish that she didn’t realize how much she needed to be here. “I’m really grateful for this job, you know?”

  “I know.” He glanced at the floor then caught her gaze again. “And I’m really grateful that we worked everything out so you can stay. My kids love you and I can see you love my kids. A man couldn’t ask for a better person to help raise his twins.”

  Tears filled her eyes and she nodded, as longing flooded her. Dressed in a suit and tie, ready to take his adorable children to his mom’s for Thanksgiving, he looked like a proud papa. A sexy proud papa. But he was also a good guy. Chance didn’t know it, but he was giving her the only opportunity to be a mom that she might ever get. He was the kind of man any woman would long for a chance to love. She couldn’t believe a woman had broken his heart enough that he mistrusted, but she yearned to be the woman who could show him real love.

  She swallowed, and turned to the door again. Chance wasn’t her mission. Jason was.

  CHAPTER TEN

  NOVEMBER TURNED INTO December. The weather changed. A day of soft snow flurries prepared Western Pennsylvania for a real storm that dumped eight inches of fat white flakes to the ground. The old car Tory’s mom had lent her refused to start two Saturdays in a row and Chance tinkered under the hood until the car purred like a kitten.

  So on the third Saturday, after she’d returned early from her visit with Jason, when Chance growled about having to shop for gifts for two babies, she put him out of his misery and volunteered to help him.

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Even if your mother can’t watch the kids, Cook adores them. She’d probably be happy to have them for a few hours.”

  “A few hours! You think it will take us a few hours?”

  She laughed. “Hey, these are your kids. Once you start shopping you’ll see a million things you’ll want to get them. We’ll need time to sift through your choices.”

  His face still scrunched in confusion. “Sift through choices? You’re sure?”

  “Yes. I’m sure.” With a laugh, she walked to the house phone and dialed the number for the kitchen. “Are you busy tonight?”

  Cook happily said, “Not really.”

  “Good. Chance needs to buy gifts for the kids. I’ve volunteered to help. Can you watch the twins?”

  “Sure. Gwen’s having dinner out. Technically, you’re not supposed to be here, so I really don’t have to cook today. Which makes me free as a bird.”

  She put her hand over the phone and faced Chance. “Your mom is having dinner out. Cook’s free.”

  His eyebrows rose. “So we’re good?”

  She nodded and went back to the phone. “Do you want to come here since all their things are here?”

  “Sure. And I promise I won’t snoop.”

  “You better not. I have your present here and I’d hate for you to see it before Christmas.”

  Cook chuckled.

  Tory hung up the phone. “She’ll be here in ten minutes.”

  “Who would have thought so many people would want to babysit twins?”

  She walked to the closet by the door to get her coat. “I would. Most people love babies. Twins are double the fun.”

  A few minutes later, Cook knocked on the back door. Chance swung through the kitchen to answer. “Thanks for this.”

  She batted a hand. “It’s my pleasure.” She glanced around as she shrugged out of her coat. “Where are the little darlings?”

  “In here,” Tory called.

  Cook clapped her hands together and ambled over to the swings by the sofa. “Well, aren’t you just the cutest?”

  Tory had dressed them in red and green one-piece pajamas and put red stocking caps on their heads so they looked like elves.

  Cook stooped down in front of them. “We are going to have a wonderful time.”

  Cindy cooed. Sam yelped.

  Tory said, “They’re a handful. So if you get into trouble you have my cell phone number.”

  “I raised six kids. I can handle two babies.”

  Chance grabbed a piece of paper and began scribbling on it. “And here’s my cell phone. Seriously. If they’re any trouble at all—”

  Cook frowned at them. “Now, you’re just making me feel old.”

  Tory laughed.

  “You’re almost causing me to consider not reminding you that there’ll be no supper tonight since the missus is out.”

  Chance said, “That’s okay. We can easily pick something up.” He caught her gaze. “I really appreciate this.”

  Cook blushed and waved her hand. “Get out of here.”

  When they stepped outside, the snow was falling as heavily as rain. Big, wet flakes plopped on their heads, their jackets, as they ran to Chance’s SUV. They drove to the mall and went to the first store by the entryway.

  “Okay, the prices on these are pretty good,” Tory said, lifting matching sleepers. “But we might want to check—”

  He stopped her by putting a finger over her lips. “It’s already five. I know the stores are open until nine, but seriously I have enough money that we don’t have to bargain shop.”

  The feeling of just one finger on her lips stopped her cold. She couldn’t have spoken even if he wasn’t preventing her. The combination of staring into his pretty blue eyes and having him touch her sent desire rolling through her bloodstream on a wave of delight. Not just because of the contact, but because of the casual intimacy. Even trying not to, they were growing close.

  “So no bargain shopping…right?”

  She nodded.

  He pulled his hand away. “And I don’t want to buy them all clothes. They’re babies. They shouldn’t even get clothes. My mom and Kate will probably handle that anyway.” He glanced around. “If I’m going to be Santa, I want to bring toys.”

  She stepped back, smiling. “You’re an idiot.”

  “No. I’m a guy. We don’t buy dresses and pajamas for Christmas. We buy toys.” He turned her and pointed her in the direction of the toy department. “So, let’s go.”

  They ambled into the small space crammed to the rafters with toys and games of every kind. She gazed from left to right in awe of the fact that there were so many things to choose from.

  He picked up a toy gun. “Would you look at this? My God. It almost seems real.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Oh, no. No! You are not getting your eight-month-old son a pretend rifle.”

  “I was thinking about getting it for Cindy.”

  She stared at him for a second, then he grinned and she playfully slapped his arm. “Stop that. Don’t tease. I have no idea what you want to get for these kids, so I have to be protective.”

  His smile faded. “I know. And I like that.”

  Her heart kicked against her ribs. So many times, in so many ways, they acted more like parents than a boss and nanny. She should have remembered that when she decided to help him shop, but she owed him. He’d taken her on the bike, given her a bonus, fixed her car.

  Their gazes caught and he smiled again.

  Intense need gripped her heart, captured her soul. What she wouldn’t give to be able to love him.

  She glanced around frantically, looking for something to break the spell. “So how about new bears?”

  “What’s wrong with the old bears?”

  “See? That’s why you need me around. There’s nothing wrong with the old bears. But you’re
building a whole bear/stuffed animal family. Your kids need big bears and little bears and silly bears and normal bears. And let’s not forget colored bears.”

  “We’re going to buy eighteen bears?”

  “No, silly! You build your bear family over the years. You get them a new bear every birthday and Christmas. Sometimes on Easter. Sometimes on Valentine’s day.”

  He stared at her. “Seriously?”

  “Hey, you should be glad kids like bears. They’re an easy, no-brainer present.”

  He mumbled, “I’m going to have to get a house as big as my mom’s just to fit the bears,” and headed for the stuffed toys.

  Laughing, glad their serious mood had lifted, Tory scooted after him. The temptation was strong to twine her arm with his. To stroll down the aisles of toys arm in arm, laughing. Talking about their kids.

  But she squelched it. They weren’t her kids. Even though she was raising them. Even though she was mothering them. Even though she’d probably never have any kids of her own. Chance’s babies were not hers. She could still love them, but they would never be hers.

  And he would never be hers.

  Her heart broke a bit, but she shoved that pain aside. Lots of people had worse crosses to bear than hers. In many ways she was lucky to have his kids in her life for as long as she could get them.

  They chose four bears, a big one and a small one for each baby, then they moved to dolls.

  Chance picked up a box containing the popular fashion model doll, dressed in a ball gown. “What about this one?”

  She winced. “When Cindy’s about six, yes. Right now, no.” She reached for a softer doll. One Cindy could hold, cuddle in her sleep. “This is probably what she would like.”

  Chance smiled crookedly. “Looks like her.”

  With blonde curls peeking out of her bonnet and pretty blue eyes, the baby did look like Cindy. Her heart warmed again. “I guess she does.”

  He dropped the doll into the big blue store bag they’d picked up once they realized how difficult it would be to carry four bears. “Now what?”

  Tory led him down the aisles that had learning games for babies.

  He froze in his tracks. “Are you kidding? They’re too young to be stuck with some stuffy learning games!”

  “Learning games for babies are created to be fun. There’s music and sound, pictures and sing-alongs.” She picked up two games. “Trust me, they will love these.”

  They shopped for another hour, choosing puzzles and blocks and plastic trucks and cars for both babies.

  “They’ll love to roll these on the ground, and watch them go.” She laughed. “That is, when they aren’t chewing on them.”

  He stopped suddenly and faced her. “How do you know all this?”

  She shrugged. “I babysat the neighbor’s kids during summer vacation three summers in a row.”

  “How many kids?”

  “Three. From a toddler the whole way up to a ten-year-old, who was a thirteen-year-old the last year I watched them.” She smiled at the memory. “The first year, my mom helped. She was next door, so it was more or less me watching the kids and her watching me.”

  He chuckled. “Sounds fun.”

  “It was…well, eye-opening.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “I learned the mechanics of caring for kids, feeding, bathing, discipline, that kind of stuff. And also the pitfalls. Sassing. Tantrums.” She caught his gaze. “Even had a runaway once.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Penny, the thirteen-year-old decided to sneak out with her friends.” She winced. “She did not think it was funny when her mom arrived at the park instead of me.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah.”

  Chance paid for their purchases and, carrying three huge bags of toys, they headed for the door.

  “You know when they get older you won’t be able to only buy them toys, right?”

  Booting open the door with a nudge from his foot, he grunted. “I guess.”

  “You’re going to spoil them hopelessly.”

  “Hey, give me another year or two and I’m sure I’ll be more than happy to discipline them.” He paused, tweaked her nose. “For now, I have you.”

  Happiness spiraled through her. The intimacy between them shimmered with promise, but though it couldn’t be fulfilled, they seemed to have it under control. Now that they’d spent over an hour together, just having fun, her heart didn’t stutter every time he looked at her. He never said anything or did anything that went too far. He only made her feel needed—liked.

  Was it so wrong to want to feel needed? To feel liked?

  They loaded the gifts into his SUV and as he started the engine, he said, “So where should we get dinner?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t care really. I’m starving.”

  “I am too.” He glanced down at the dashboard clock. “And we’ve only been gone about an hour and a half.” He peeked over at her. “What do you say we just find a place and eat there?”

  Her heart took a bit of a tumble, but her tummy growled. She reminded herself that they seemed to be handling this. In fact, spending private time together was going a long way to help her see “them” more normally. Just a boss and a nanny becoming friends. “I am starving.”

  “And we haven’t given Cook very long with the kids.”

  She nodded and he turned the SUV away from the mall. He passed all the perfectly good chain restaurants and headed down a two-lane road that was all but deserted.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  In another minute, they crested a small hill and there on the left was a brown wood-frame restaurant with a crowded parking lot. Adorned with bright Christmas lights and tinsel that sparkled in the glow of the parking lot lamps, it looked old-world, homey and charming.

  He opened his door. “You’re going to love this food.”

  She opened her door. “Right now, I’d love any food.”

  He waited as she rounded the hood. When she caught up with him, the desire to slide her arm beneath his, to twine them together and walk along the crunching snow filled her. So she shoved her hands in her pockets and headed for the entry. He scrambled after her, beat her to the door and opened it for her.

  The warm feeling invaded her heart again. She and Jason had been kids when they were dating. He didn’t open doors. He didn’t wait for her. But Chance was an adult. A man who was protective and respectful.

  As a friend. Or maybe as a guy who owed her for helping him shop.

  Nothing more.

  A hostess in black pants and a white shirt ushered them to a booth in the back. The lights were dim and when they sat, it was almost dark in their little area. The hostess lit the round candle on the table and left them with menus and the promise that a waitress would be right over.

  With only the light of one candle, the booth suddenly felt small, intimate.

  Ignoring that, and the jump of her stomach, she opened her menu. She noticed all the usual fare but a sweet spicy scent lured her. When the waitress came over, she asked what it was.

  “Three-cheese ravioli with marinara and sausage. It’s today’s special.”

  She handed her menu to the waitress. “I’ll have that.”

  Chance handed his menu to the waitress too. “Same here.” As the waitress walked away, he smiled at Tory. “So, thanks for shopping with me.”

  She shrugged, grateful for the chance to take the conversation and the mood in the direction it needed to go. “It was my pleasure. Really. The only people I have to shop for are my parents. And they’re…well…kinda boring.”

  “Count your lucky stars. My parents were anything but boring and they made us nuts trying to choose gifts for them.”

  “Really? I can’t see Gwen making anybody nuts.”

  “When we were younger she was a perfectionist. I told you we’d walk out one door and a cleaning team would walk in another.”

  She
laughed. “What about your dad?”

  He winced. “You really don’t want to know.”

  “Sure I do.” Anything to get the conversation off the intimacy surrounding them. Soft mandolin music. Candles. The privacy of a booth with tall-backed bench seats and very little light.

  “No. You don’t.”

  The sternness of his voice accomplished everything her good intentions couldn’t do. She totally forgot how romantic their surroundings were. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.”

  “No, I’m sorry. You’re not prying.” He sighed, stretching his hands across the table as if he would have caught her fingers as part of his apology if he were allowed. “It’s just not a pleasant memory.”

  “He was a bad dad?”

  “He was bad dad, a crappy husband and borderline thief in business.”

  She winced. “You sort of mentioned that when Max offered you the job. You said you wouldn’t have worked for your dad but Max had changed the company.”

  He chuckled, but without a hint of happiness. “I’m making myself sound like the villain for disliking him so much. But trust me, he earned my dislike and my mother’s and in the end even Max’s.”

  “Even Max’s?”

  He sat back in the booth. “Max was the one who discovered that Brandon Montgomery was my real father.”

  “Your real father?”

  “My biological father. He told Gwen that his secretary had gotten pregnant and couldn’t keep the baby. So he thought they should adopt me, then she wouldn’t have to worry about the couple who got her son. At the time they had only Max, and mom had always wanted another child though Brandon didn’t. So she thought adopting me was his way of making that up to her.”

  Sympathy for Gwen filled her. “But he was the guy who had gotten his secretary pregnant?”

  “Yes.”

  This time, she leaned back. “That’s awful.”

  “That’s the tip of the iceberg with my dad, who, God rest his soul, seemed to have a knack for lying to everybody.”

  “But if he lied, how do you know all this?”

  “I overheard my dad and Max arguing about keeping the secret when I was eighteen. That’s why I ran away. I thought if Max knew, he should have told me. But he’d only learned through office gossip and was trying to get my dad to confirm it. When he did, he wanted him to do the right thing. He wouldn’t. Then he died and Max told our mom the whole truth a few years ago. She took it hard, but it helped her to understand why I left and they started looking for me, asking me to come home. That kind of stuff.” He shrugged. “When I had the twins, I couldn’t refuse them anymore. I needed help. Gwen and I talked it out and realized we’d always been mother and son—no matter who my biological mom and dad were—because she’d raised me.”