Raven’s Instinct (A Day Care for Shifters #6)

5. Kendra

5

KENDRA

K endra felt unnaturally anxious when she went to pick Amy up the following day.

She knew this feeling. This was the giddy, tingly crush-stage feeling. The honeymoon stage of getting to know someone that she found appealing. That dangerous point where she’d been alone too long and craved adult companionship and was ready to do something stupid like fall in love.

She’d managed to avoid Alan when she picked up Amy the day before, just one in a flood of parents that he was clearly overwhelmed with.

Kendra felt sorry for him, because parent pick-up could be an absolute crush. Moms and dads were tired from work, and the kids were cranky about having to stop their play and say goodbye. One child tried to hide, while another threw a fit, and Kendra was glad that Amy didn’t seem to care either way when Kendra scooped her up and fled. Most of the girl’s play was still self-centered, not cooperative.

Her morning drop-off had been early.

“Alan’s not here yet,” Addison said with a very knowing smile as she took Amy over the gate.

Kendra made a noncommittal noise. It wasn’t like she had been looking forward to seeing him.

“He’ll be here when you pick Amy up this afternoon,” Addison said. Her eyes were dancing with amusement and Kendra wondered how transparent she really was.

“Okay,” Kendra said

“It’s sure nice having him around,” Addison added. “He’s great with the kids. And not too hard to look at, either.”

“Mm-hmm,” Kendra said. Her face felt hot.

Kendra hadn’t previously thought Addison was the type to play matchmaker, but maybe the pregnancy hormones were making her sentimental. Kendra wished she’d stop, because she was having enough trouble unraveling her own unwelcome feelings and didn’t need the outside influence.

That evening, all of her willpower couldn’t keep her heart from leaping at the sight of him. He didn’t notice her at first, helping one of the older girls slip an apron over her head and tie it behind her. He had a hawkish profile and chiseled cheekbones. His hair was braided neatly back now, and Kendra wasn’t sure which way she liked it better.

Then he looked her way and his face, already smiling, split into a wide grin.

No, no, no, Kendra told herself.

Yes, yes, yes! her owl insisted.

Kendra didn’t need the complication of infatuation, let alone anything more. The smart thing to do was crush Addison’s hopes and nip this in the bud.

Her resolve wavered when Alan knelt to point her out to Amy. Amy’s face lit up and she gave a hoot of joy, scattering blocks to scramble to her feet and bolt across the room for the gate, Alan trailing behind her to gather up her diaper bag and the sippy cup that Amy threw aside.

“Kendra,” he said, as she scooped Amy up into her arms.

“Hadda babby wibble dooter!”

“She’s either telling you about the fact that the rabbit got loose today and terrorized the playroom, or complaining that she doesn’t like having to sit still at story time,” Alan explained. “I honestly have no idea which.”

“HADDA WIBBY!” Amy insisted.

Kendra took the bag and bottle, reminded herself that she wasn’t flirting, only making conversation, and said, “It looks like you are swiftly learning the fine art of toddler interpretation.”

“I speak Russian, Yupik—that’s Native Alaskan—Mandarin, and enough Spanish to find a bathroom. I honestly don’t have the foggiest idea what these kids are saying. It’s like non-stop charades around here.”

Kendra laughed despite herself, then sobered. That many languages either indicated his ethnic background—and honestly Alan might be any of those—or was another clue that he was a lot more than a babysitter.

“We did make a little progress with hi and bye, you want to show your mom, Amy?”

Amy didn’t want to demonstrate anything but stubbornness, and she stuck out her bottom lip and grabbed for her lunch bag while Alan tried to convince her to wave. “Do you want to say bye? Bye-bye?”

Kendra had a little shiver of warning and she firmly told Amy, “Fingers and feet—“ just as Alan said exactly the same thing in unison.

Amy stared between them, apparently surprised into deciding not to shift. “Gibble snoo.”

“I know, we’re no fun,” Alan said, and he caught Kendra’s eye and grinned at her. “Grown-ups are so boring.”

It was entirely too easy to be comfortable around Alan. Kendra wanted to linger, and ask him more about the many languages he spoke...did he roll his Rs? What else could a tongue that capable do? “We have to go,” she said, trying to convince herself.

“Let me get you the craft we did today,” Alan said at once, and he bounded back to the cubbies with the grace of an antelope, expertly dodging romping children. He returned with— “I’m not sure what it’s supposed to be, but Amy was very interested in eating it.” The base was a paper plate, and there were a few scribbles and glued-down paper shapes. Several of the edges were damp and ragged, like they’d been chewed on.

“It doesn’t look very appetizing,” Kendra said.

“Gabba bibby,” Amy offered. She made a grabby motion with her hands. “Gimme!”

“We’re going to put it in your diaper bag,” Kendra said. She had quickly realized that she couldn’t keep all of Amy’s crafts and scribbles; she’d take a photo of it later and throw it away while Amy was sleeping. Only a few of them were worth saving.

Amy fussed about losing her prize, but Alan found a feather stuck to her jumper and tickled her mood back to happy.

“You’re good with kids,” Kendra observed out loud. “Even if you say you haven’t done this long.”

“I have a lot of applicable skills,” Alan said with apparent humility. “More than I would have guessed.” But he didn’t volunteer what they were, and Kendra didn’t ask.