Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Maple leaves crunched beneath the bag Delaney dragged toward the growing pile, Charlotte’s delighted shriek echoing across the backyard as she flew headfirst into the freshly raked mound.
The little girl who’d suffered bouts of melancholy that first week Delaney had lived here—occasionally retreating into herself—had slowly opened up. She still rarely put more than two sentences together at a time, but she smiled more. She laughed a lot.
Delaney loved seeing her personality emerge.
Now Charlotte popped up, leaves clinging to her curls like nature’s confetti. “Again!” She jogged to the far side of the yard.
Delaney raked to pile the leaves, and Charlotte got a running start and dove headfirst, sending all Delaney’s work flying.
Delaney brushed dirt from her jeans, surveying the yard. There were oversized trash bags bulging with leaves at every corner. She needed to fill one more, and they’d be finished.
She hoped to surprise Mr. Aylett by completing this task, giving him one less thing he needed to do.
He’d mentioned more than once his plan to get back here, but he’d been so busy.
Though he was home for breakfast and dinner every night, she’d seen him in his office many times before breakfast and after he kissed Charlotte good night—after being gone all day long.
He’d apologized once during that first week for heaping so much responsibility onto Delaney so quickly.
“It’s just this merger,” he’d said. “As soon as it’s completed, I’ll be around more.”
Delaney hoped that was true, but she wouldn’t count on it.
Her own father had always had excellent excuses for not being with the family.
Giving him the benefit of the doubt, maybe Dad had truly believed that as soon as this assignment was over, or that business deal, he’d spend more time at home.
Whether he’d believed it or not, it was never true.
Dad always seemed to have somewhere more important to be than in Maine with his wife and kids.
In Mr. Aylett’s case, he was doing his best to make room for a child in his life who wasn’t his. She couldn’t imagine her father making half the effort her employer did for someone else’s little girl.
Charlotte sat in the middle of the pile and threw leaves over her head.
Delaney grinned at her. She’d been clingy when Delaney had first come to work for the family, and overly compliant, as if she’d feared that, at any sign of disobedience, Delaney might abandon her. Three weeks later, she talked more, laughed more, and trusted more. She was also less quick to obey.
It was good, though. The new therapist warned her that Charlotte would start testing boundaries. “She wants to know if you’ll stick around, no matter what.”
Delaney didn’t plan to leave anytime soon, but what would it do to Charlotte when she went home to Maine?
She wasn’t about to risk her little heart, not after everything she’d been through.
Charlotte rolled in the leaves, undoing all of Delaney’s hard work.
“Sweetheart,” she said, “the goal is to gather the leaves, not scatter them.”
Charlotte had other ideas about leaf management. Giggling, she stood, lifted an armful, and threw them in the air, shouting, “Scatter, scatter!”
Delaney laughed. “One more jump in, then we need to get these bagged up before your uncle gets home.” She raked them close and formed a pile.
Charlotte backed up, then plopped into it.
“Silly girl!” Delaney reached in after her, ostensibly to pull her out. Instead, she found the child’s sweet spot—under her arms—and tickled.
Charlotte’s giggles were contagious. And who cared about the yard, anyway?
Delaney fell in with her, eliciting a fresh bout of laughter.
Charlotte popped up, then jumped on top of her, knocking her over and earning even more tickles.
Finally, Delaney caught her breath.
“We should really clean this up before—”
A tree’s worth of leaves fell on her head, covering her and Charlotte completely.
What in the world?
She pushed her way out and looked up.
Mr. Aylett was standing over them, holding an empty trash bag, grinning. He’d shed his tie—something he did the moment he walked in the door. The first button of his shirt was undone, and with the afternoon sun shining behind him, he was practically glowing.
“Daddy!” Charlotte screeched. “Play with us.”
Delaney had heard Charlotte call him that. He usually gently corrected her.
She took the lead this time. “Uncle Noah’s in his dress clothes. Maybe he shouldn’t—”
“No way you’re keeping me out of the fun.” He plopped down in the pile, lifted an armful of leaves, and threw them in the air.
Leaves fluttered down, catching in Delaney’s hair and landing on her shoulders. She couldn’t help laughing. “This is starting to feel counterproductive.”
“Is that so?” His eyes twinkled as he scooped Charlotte up and pretended to bury her in the pile.
“No fair!” Charlotte squealed. “Miss Laney, help me!”
Delaney joined the fray, showering a handful of leaves over Mr. Aylett’s head. His gray eyes caught hers for a moment, and something electric passed between them.
Whoops. She looked away, reminding herself they were supposed to be vibe-less.
Three weeks she’d worked for Charlotte’s uncle. He was handsome, but also busy and distracted and completely professional. They’d had countless conversations about Charlotte, but nothing personal. Nothing playful. Even then, it was impossible not to notice what a handsome man he was.
What a good man he was.
Delaney shifted out of the pile to put distance between them. “We were trying to clean these up for you,” she said, gesturing at the scattered leaves and the bags she’d managed to fill before their play had taken over.
Mr. Aylett shook his head, sending leaves flying from his blond hair. “Why would you do that when leaves are clearly meant for fun?” He threw another armful over his head.
Charlotte danced in the raining leaves.
“Stop that!” But Delaney was laughing too hard for her admonishment to sound convincing.
Three weeks at the Aylett house, and she’d never seen her employer this relaxed. His usual serious demeanor had given way to something lighter this evening, something more carefree.
It suited him.
Charlotte flopped onto her back, making leaf angels.
Delaney reclined beside her, the damp earth soaking through her jeans.
She didn’t care. The late October air felt refreshing against her flushed cheeks, and Charlotte’s laughter was worth every bit of dirt she’d have to scrub from her clothes later.
Mr. Aylett stood and extended his hand to help her up. His palm was warm and firm against hers as he pulled her to her feet. A tingle shot up her arm. They’d been careful not to touch in the weeks she’d been working for him. She realized now what a good policy that was.
She brushed leaves from her clothes to hide her reaction. “I should get dinner finished. It’s almost ready.”
“Don’t leave on my account,” Mr. Aylett said, back to burying his niece in leaves. “You two were having fun.”
Delaney took a step back, needing space from the man who was making her heart do strange things. “The pulled pork has been in the slow cooker all day. It just needs to be shredded and served.”
“Smelled delicious when I walked through. Let us know when it’s ready.”
“Will do.” She retreated to the kitchen, berating herself for her attraction. She’d vowed on her first day to keep a professional distance from Mr. Aylett, yet here she was, flustered by a simple touch.
After scrubbing her hands, she shredded the pork with two forks, the tender meat falling apart easily. Through the open windows, she could see Mr. Aylett and Charlotte still playing, their voices carrying on the evening breeze. The sight made her yearn for something she didn’t want to name.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d been so careful to keep things professional and maintain appropriate boundaries. The little girl had stolen her heart from day one, and the man was proving far more complex than his initial rudeness had suggested.
Had she ever heard him laugh like he had just now? Not the polite chuckles he offered during their careful conversations over breakfast and dinner, but real, unguarded laughter? Like his niece’s, his laugh was contagious.
She arranged the pulled pork on a platter and set buns, pickles, and barbecue sauce on the kitchen table. The green salad she’d prepared earlier went beside it, along with the baked potato chips she’d found at the local market.
“Dinner’s ready!” she called.
They trooped inside, both covered in bits of leaves and grass, their cheeks flushed. Charlotte’s curls were a tangled mess, creating a wild halo around her face.
Mr. Aylett looked younger somehow, his usually perfect hair mussed, his expensive shirt wrinkled.
“We should wash up.” He plucked a leaf from Charlotte’s hair. “We look like we’ve been rolling around in the yard.”
“We have been rolling around in the yard,” Charlotte said.
“Oh, yeah.” He lifted her and headed for the bathroom.
Delaney was struck by how natural he was with her. He’d been more awkward before, more guarded around both of them. Today, he seemed comfortable in his role. Not just comfortable, but content.
Two very attractive qualities.
They returned, and the three of them settled around the kitchen table.
When Delaney had started working here, she’d offered to take her meals separately, but Charlotte and her uncle had both insisted she join them for the dinners she prepared. At first, it’d felt uncomfortable, like trying to fit into someone else’s clothes. But they’d settled into a natural rhythm.
Charlotte chattered about their leaf fight while Mr. Aylett built her sandwich, then his own. His gaze fell on the bowl of baked chips, and one eyebrow lifted. “Those look…different.”
“They’re healthy,” Delaney offered.
“I see.” He picked up one of the golden chips and bit into it, his face thoughtful. “They taste…healthy.”
She ducked her head to hide her smile. He was teasing her. “I’d thank you.” She met his eyes across the table. “Except that wasn’t a compliment, was it?”
“Not even a little bit.” But his smile took any sting out of the words.
Grinning, Charlotte looked from one of them to the other like she was watching a tennis match.
The rest of dinner passed with easy conversation. Charlotte told her uncle about her new friend at dance class, and he asked questions, trying to draw her further out.
Delaney found herself relaxing in a way she hadn’t before in his presence.
When Charlotte’s plate was empty, Mr. Aylett stood. “Bath time for you, leaf monster. You’ve got half the yard in your hair.”
“Can Miss Laney read with us tonight?” Charlotte’s voice held a wheedling tone that sometimes worked on her, but never on Mr. Aylett.
“Miss Laney has been busy all day,” he said gently. “She deserves some time to herself.”
Wow. Most of her previous employers had expected her to be available around the clock. “I don’t mind—“
“Go relax.” He lifted Charlotte from her chair and threw her over his shoulder like a bag of rice. “We’ve got this covered, don’t we, Charlie-Bear?”
Charlotte’s giggles faded as he carried her down the hall and up the stairs. Delaney stared after them, the warmth of the moment lingering even after they’d gone.
A few minutes later when the kitchen was spotless, she headed upstairs and changed out of her dirty, leaf-specked clothes.
She donned clean yoga pants and a sweatshirt and then headed down the hall toward the staircase.
The door to Charlotte’s room stood partially open, spilling warm light onto the hardwood. Delaney paused and peeked in.
Mr. Aylett was reading Charlotte’s favorite story. His voice shifted with each character—gruff for the bear, squeaky for the mouse, deep and measured for the owl.
Charlotte’s giggles punctuated his performance.
Delaney leaned a shoulder against the wall, transfixed. This wasn’t the buttoned-up businessman who hurried out the door each morning for work and returned haggard and stressed. This was someone else entirely—someone warm and playful.
A father figure, not an uncle trying to learn how to raise someone else’s child. The transformation she’d seen in both of them was remarkable, and watching it made her long for things she had no business wanting.
Stop it.
This was exactly what she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do—develop feelings for her employer. But standing in the darkened hallway, listening to him bring storybook characters to life for Charlotte’s delight, something shifted inside her.
Mr. Aylett must’ve felt her gaze because he glanced toward the doorway. Their eyes met, and heat flooded her cheeks at being caught. She offered a small wave and mouthed “sorry” before retreating toward the stairs.
Embarrassed, Delaney slipped out the front door onto the wraparound porch, hoping Mr. Aylett would go straight to his office so she wouldn’t have to face him tonight.
She settled onto the wooden swing that overlooked Magnolia Street, the chains creaking softly as she pushed off with her toes.
The salty breeze carried the scent of the ocean, reminding her of home. She missed her sisters desperately—their laughter, their constant chatter, even their arguments. She missed her parents and the familiar rhythms of life in Shadow Cove.
But she didn’t miss the suffocating feeling of being the Wright daughter who could never measure up.
She might not have any friends yet, but she was making a life for herself apart from them. If she wanted to stay here, she needed to make a few friends.
And she needed to control her rogue thoughts about Noah.
Mr. Aylett, she berated herself.
Her boss. And nothing more.