Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Noah caught up with Miss Wright, his longer strides eating up the distance between them despite Charlotte’s weight in his arms.
“Please, can we just…?”
She turned, cheeks flushed, eyes narrowed. Gone was the stench of cigarettes, replaced with a hint of coconut that reminded him of the beach, swimming with his brother while Mom and Dad lounged nearby.
That, plus the way the afternoon light caught the gold in Miss Wright’s hair, not to mention the way she’d secured Charlotte, fought for Charlotte…
They all scrambled his thoughts.
“Did you need something, Mr. Aylett?” Her voice carried that gentle quality he’d noticed when she’d stood on his porch, though that same voice had been steel when she’d confronted Charlotte’s former nanny.
She was an enigma, this one.
“I owe you an apology,” he said. “My behavior at our first meeting was inexcusable.” He sounded too formal, as if he were speaking to his old headmaster, not a woman he’d insulted.
“When you came for an interview, I—” He ran a hand through his hair, feeling insecure in a way he hadn’t in years. “I was rude.”
He expected quick forgiveness, considering the difference in their stations.
That thought had him wincing. Stations? He sounded like his late grandmother, who’d been far too concerned with that kind of thing, as if their wealth made them not just better dressed, but better people.
Miss Wright wore jeans and a pretty sweater, her dark blond hair blowing in the breeze. She couldn’t be more than twenty-one or twenty-two, far too young for him.
Not too young for him, too young to be a nanny. Too young to trust with his niece. Except the more mature one he’d hired had been incompetent.
Miss Wright straightened her shoulders. “I agree,” she finally said. “You were.”
Noah was so surprised by her answer—by everything about her—that he was speechless. He shifted Charlotte to his other hip, buying himself a moment to come up with a decent reply.
“It wasn’t about you,” he said finally. “I mean, it was a little. Hiring someone like you—”
“Someone like me?” Her chin lifted. “What does that mean? You don’t even know me.”
What was wrong with him? He navigated boardrooms and high-society functions with finesse, but he couldn’t get through a single conversation with this woman.
“I meant…” He cleared his throat, acutely aware of Charlotte’s curious gaze bouncing between them. “A young, unmarried woman living in my home. Surely you can see how people might interpret that. I have reasons for needing to avoid scandal right now, and—”
“Are you saying I’m…scandalous?” Her lips twitched, and he couldn’t tell if she was amused or insulted or something else entirely.
“No, of course not. But you’re…” He gestured toward her, taking in her tall, shapely form. He regretted that move when her eyebrows rose. “That is, you’re clearly…attractive, and I’m a single man, and people talk.”
Now, her eyes narrowed and flicked to Charlotte. “You’re a single father?”
“The agency didn’t tell you?”
“Only that you were looking to hire a nanny. I didn’t know…”
He guessed by the way her lips pressed together that she was taking in all the information she’d learned and working the problem. “So, based on my looks alone”—her words came out slowly—“you dismissed me out of hand and hired an inept grandmother instead?”
How he wished he could argue with her conclusion.
Mrs. Dechambeau had come with zero references, but she was mature, and she’d babysat her grandkids for years. A sixty-three-year-old widow, she’d posed no threat of wagging tongues.
“Yes, well…” He cleared his throat. “The ‘inept’ part was, admittedly, less than ideal.” He’d been so focused on protecting himself from scandal that he’d failed to protect his niece from real danger.
Charlotte tugged on his shirt collar and whispered in his ear. “I like the pretty lady better than the mean lady.”
He looked down at his niece, whose blue eyes were fixed on Miss Wright with obvious adoration. “Was Mrs. Dechambeau mean?”
She shrugged one shoulder but didn’t elaborate.
So far, he was doing this parenting thing all wrong.
Miss Wright smiled at his niece, and in that moment, all her defenses seemed to fall away. She was beautiful, yes. And kind and tenderhearted. If she weren’t so attractive, she’d be perfect.
But this wasn’t about him.
“If you would consider—”
“I’m sorry. Of course I accept your apology.” Her gaze shifted back to Charlotte. “It was nice to meet you, Charlotte.” She swiveled and walked away.
“Daddy, please.”
Daddy?
The word was a gut-punch. He needed to correct her, remind her that he wasn’t her father. And he would, later.
His niece’s plea got his feet moving. He fell into step beside the stubborn, beautiful woman.
She slowed, glancing his way. “Did you need something else?”
“I’m guessing you already found another position.” When she didn’t respond, he continued. “Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll add twenty percent.”
That brought her up short. “You want to hire me? Even though I’m scandalous?”
“I never said…”
“Please.” Charlotte’s little voice was barely audible.
His niece never spoke to strangers. She hardly ever spoke to him.
This woman had somehow connected with her in a way he’d seen nobody else do.
If Miss Wright didn’t agree, Charlotte would be crushed. And he would do anything, even risk scandal, to avoid that.
“Is it still a live-in position, even though I’m…” Her voice faltered, and for the first time, he picked up a hint of insecurity.
“Attractive?” he prompted. When she just blinked those large, innocent eyes, his rogue body went a little haywire. “We’ll just have to be very careful not to give off any vibes.”
“I see.” She looked at Charlotte again, eyes sparkling. “We must promise to have no vibes. We must be vibe-less, Charlotte. Completely vibe-less.”
Charlotte giggled. She put her hand on Noah’s cheek and said, “Can you be vibe-less?”
She’d spoken a complete sentence.
He swallowed a rise of hope. In a few minutes, Miss Wright had gotten closer to his niece than Mrs. Dechambeau had in days.
“I’ll do my part.” He focused on Miss Wright again, speaking the words with a confidence he didn’t feel.
He was going to have to trust somebody, and his first instinct had been way off. Delaney Wright had already proved her ability to not only care for Charlotte but also to draw her out.
He’d have to trust her, despite the definite existence of vibes—even if they were only on his part.