Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Delaney pushed her Chinese takeout around her plate, stealing glances at Mr. Aylett across the kitchen table. He’d picked up dinner on the way home, but despite his thoughtfulness, a chill colder than a Maine winter had settled between them.
He asked polite questions about Charlotte’s medicine, which Delaney answered just as politely.
Meanwhile, Charlotte chattered about her itchy skin and whether the rash would be gone by dance class.
The fever was already lower, though it might climb back up.
At least she seemed unaware of the tension.
But Delaney felt Mr. Aylett’s every measured word, every controlled response. Gone was the man who’d shown her such grace at the park that morning. In his place sat a stranger, polite and distant as a hotel concierge.
What had she done wrong?
The question gnawed at her as she prepared Charlotte’s bath using a recipe she found on the internet.
She’d ground oatmeal in an old food processor she assumed had belonged to Mr. Aylett’s mother, then added baking soda.
She stepped out when Mr. Aylett carried Charlotte in, giving Delaney a tight nod she took as forced gratitude.
What was his problem? She’d made the right medical decision—even Dr. Wright had said so.
Unless…
The thought crept in as she loaded the dinner dishes into the dishwasher.
Was Mr. Aylett jealous?
Surely not. After all, the doctor had been friendly, but not in a romantic way. He’d mentioned they might be long-lost cousins. Not exactly a pickup line.
Still, the way Mr. Aylett’s jaw had tightened when he’d seen them talking together, plus his petty accusation in the car… He’d acted like he’d caught her in some sort of betrayal.
But jealous?
The possibility sent an unwelcome flutter to her middle.
If he was jealous, that meant he saw her as more than just Charlotte’s caregiver.
It meant the moments on the porch swing, the way his eyes lingered on her sometimes when he thought she wasn’t looking, the careful distance he maintained—it all added up to something… unexpected.
But unwelcome?
No.
Yes. Unwelcome. Even if her thoughts toward him had drifted from those of an employee for her boss. She respected him. She admired him. She liked him.
Most of the time, anyway.
He was a good man.
She closed the dishwasher and wiped the table and countertops.
Even if Mr. Aylett were interested, she was his employee. That power dynamic made any relationship inappropriate, not to mention the disaster it would create if things went wrong. She needed this job. And Charlotte needed stability.
Whatever was going on with Mr. Aylett, Delaney must get it out in the open—as soon as possible. Though she’d prefer to hide in her bedroom for the rest of the evening, she settled on the couch in the living room to wait for him to return after putting Charlotte to bed.
She scrolled through messages from her sisters.
Cici was looking at properties in downtown Shadow Cove, wanting to open a jewelry store.
Alyssa sent a picture of her future stepdaughter, Peri, in her little cheerleading uniform.
Normal lives in a normal place where brake lines didn’t get cut and stalkers didn’t lurk in parking lots and woods weren’t filled with poison plants that sent children to the ER.
Delaney had ignored her sisters’ messages for months, but once she was settled, she’d started interacting with them again. They didn’t know where she was—they’d be on the first flight here if they did. Mom knew, and that was enough.
Delaney’s chest squeezed, not just from the accident, but from homesickness. Maybe she should go back to Maine, and not just for Christmas. Maybe she should give up—and prove that her father had been right all along. She couldn’t hack life on her own.
But she was hacking it. She wasn’t willing to give up on this job because of Mr. Aylett’s bizarre behavior.
A few minutes later, his footsteps on the stairs sent that acid-drop feeling to her stomach. She was going to confront him—and deal with the consequences.
He appeared in the doorway, sleeves rolled up and hair slightly mussed.
“She’s in bed.” His voice was carefully neutral. “The oatmeal bath seemed to help with the itching. I think the other medicine was already making her sleepy.”
“Hopefully, the rash won’t keep her awake.” She stood and took a breath, gathering her courage, but he spoke before she had a chance.
“I want to apologize for my behavior earlier. I realize now that you did the right thing taking her, and you didn’t tell me because I’d told you about my meeting. In the future, if Charlotte goes to the emergency room, please alert me right away.”
The apology was practiced and formal, so different from the camaraderie they’d shared before.
She adopted a similar tone. “I apologize for not calling you directly. I’ll do that from now on.”
He dipped his head and looked like he was ready to walk away.
“But I was hoping we could talk…”
His phone rang, and she could swear she saw relief in his expression. He lifted it to his ear.
“This is Noah.” He listened, then said, “What time?” then, “I’ll be there in five.” He ended the call. “There was a break-in at the office. I need to go.”
He walked away. A moment later, the front door closed.
If she didn’t know better, she’d wonder if he’d orchestrated that interruption to avoid the awkward conversation they needed to have.
Frustrated, she headed to her room. It would keep until tomorrow.
A scream woke Delaney from a sound sleep.
She sat up, instantly alert. Normally, when Charlotte woke in the night, Mr. Aylett tended to her, but she hadn’t heard him return. She hurried down the hallway.
Charlotte was standing beside her bed, eyes wide but unfocused. She was babbling, though her words made no sense.
Delaney had dealt with night terrors in children before, so she had an idea of what to do. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” She approached slowly and kept her voice low and soothing, not trying to wake Charlotte but just to interrupt whatever had gripped her in her sleep.
Charlotte quieted, still standing motionless.
Delaney crouched next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re safe, love. You’re safe.”
She moved the covers out of the way, then gently lifted Charlotte and placed her back in bed, her head on the pillow. “There you go. Go back to sleep.”
Charlotte never fully woke up, just curled on her side, tucked her hands beneath her head, and closed her eyes.
Delaney sat beside her, brushing her hair away from her face. “Turn your eyes upon Jesus…” She sang the old hymn quietly, barely above a whisper. “Look full in His wonderful face…”
She continued to sing, wondering what had caused Charlotte’s middle-of-the-night terror. She hated to think about the adults who’d failed to protect this precious child in the past.
Delaney would not be one of those adults.
Help me protect her, Lord. Please, don’t make me leave here. She needs me…and I need her.
She continued the hymn, one her mother used to sing to her when she was afraid, repeating it until Charlotte’s breathing settled into the rhythm of sleep.
Delaney rose quietly from the bed and turned toward the doorway.
A tall silhouette filled the frame, and her heart leapt into her throat.
It was Mr. Aylett, still wearing his shirt and tie. His broad shoulders filled the space.
“Sorry.” His voice barely rose above a whisper. “I didn’t want to startle you.” He stepped aside, and she moved into the hallway, pulling Charlotte’s door nearly closed behind her.
“Have you dealt with night terrors before?” he asked.
“A child I watched back in Maine had them. They’re fairly common. I didn’t know you were home.”
“I was just walking in when she cried out. I came to check, but you had it under control. You’ve got a way with her.”
She shrugged. “It’s not too hard to calm kids down when they’re already half asleep. Do you have any idea what might have led to them? I mean, sometimes they seem random. I guess they’re not always the result of an event, or at least not one that they can articulate.”
Mr. Aylett’s expression darkened. “Her early childhood wasn’t…ideal. Before she came to live with me.”
Charlotte’s night terrors weren’t random. They were echoes of trauma, fears that haunted her even in sleep.
His face looked tortured, and she had the urge to reach out and offer him comfort. “I’m sorry she’s going through it.” The words felt inadequate, but she didn’t dare touch him. “And you too.”
“Thanks.” He ran a hand through his hair, something he did when he was frustrated.
“I’ll ask her counselor about it,” Delaney said. “Maybe she can help.”
“How, if Charlotte doesn’t even remember? I mean, whatever it was must’ve happened a while ago.”
“You’d be amazed at what a good play therapist can learn.”
“That would be…” But his words trailed, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m grateful for you.”
They stood in the dim hallway, the house quiet around them. Delaney suddenly became hyperaware of her state of undress—the thin cotton of her pajama pants, the way her oversized top hung loose on her frame. She crossed her arms. “Is everything okay at your office?”
His jaw tightened. “Someone broke in and did some damage to the equipment. Nothing was stolen, just…destroyed.”
“Why? Who would do that?”
He sighed, the sound long-day weary. “A rival, I think. We just got the system perfect to show Tidewater, and now…” He shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ll deal with it.”
“Okay. Well, good night, then.” She turned toward her room.
“Miss Wright?” His voice was low and smooth, and though he didn’t touch her, it felt like a caress. She turned back.
The hallway seemed to shrink around them, the space between their bodies suddenly charged with something electric and dangerous.
When he didn’t speak, she asked, “Did you need something else?”
“I wanted to apologize. Again. For how I acted today. At the hospital, and in the car. It was…unprofessional.”
It was. But so was standing in the hallway in the dark wearing pajamas.
“You were worried about Charlotte. I understand.”
“No, you don’t. Seeing you with that doctor made me feel…” His eyes searched hers, vulnerability written across his face.
She had no idea what she was supposed to say. She considered a few responses before settling on a simple explanation. “He was curious about my family in Maine. He thinks we might be related. It wasn’t exactly…romantic.” Not that Noah had suggested it was.
“Were you…did you mind, or…?”
“I’m not looking for romance.”
He dipped his head and stepped back.
“You don’t have to worry. Charlotte’s my first priority.”
It was the wrong thing to say. His expression darkened, and he looked almost…pained. “It wasn’t that. It was… It doesn’t matter. I had no right to feel the way I felt. You’re my employee. Charlotte’s nanny. Nothing more.”
His words had the most irrational feeling draping over her. Disappointment.
“Of course.” She needed to put a fine point on it, to make it clear where they both stood.
“I don’t think Dr. Wright had any interest in me”—he definitely hadn’t, but she needed to clarify—“nor I him, but if he were to ask me out, you wouldn’t mind if I said yes?
If I went out with him when I’m off work? ”
Mr. Aylett groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. The sound was barely audible, but it conveyed everything his words couldn’t.
“I’d mind,” he said finally, his voice strained.
The admission hung between them, words he couldn’t take back. They were a live wire, an unexploded bomb. They could be the beginning of something.
Or they could destroy everything.
Delaney’s pulse echoed in her ears. She should step back, should retreat to her room, and pretend this conversation had never happened.
“Mr. Aylett—”
“Noah.” His voice was rough. “Please?”
Calling him by his first name felt dangerous. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Noah.”
Something shifted in his expression. His gaze dropped to her mouth. She saw the moment his restraint snapped.
“I’m sorry.” But he was already moving forward, backing her gently against the wall. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t…” He lifted his hands to frame her face, thumbs brushing across her cheekbones. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.”
She should. She knew she should. But when she opened her mouth, no words came out. Instead, she found herself leaning in, tilting her face up toward his.
His lips met hers, a whisper of contact that sent electricity racing through her. She felt his breath catch as his hands slid into her hair. The wall was cold against her back, his body warm and solid before her, and for one perfect moment, everything else fell away.
Then he deepened the kiss. His lips moved over hers with growing urgency, the tension that had been building between them for weeks finding release. Her hands clutched his shoulders, feeling the crisp fabric of his shirt beneath her fingers as she pulled him closer.
This was madness. This was everything she shouldn’t want and couldn’t have.
This was exactly where she wanted to be.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Delaney kept her eyes closed, afraid of what she might see in his expression. Regret? Dismissal? She couldn’t bear either.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” Noah whispered, his voice rough.
Her eyes opened. His face was inches from hers, his expression a storm of conflicting emotions. But regret wasn’t among them—at least, not the kind she’d feared.
“I’m your boss.” His thumb traced the line of her jaw with exquisite care. “You work for me. This is…” But he didn’t end the sentence, and she didn’t want to name it either. Because it hadn’t felt wrong.
It’d felt perfect.
He stepped back. “I’m your employer.”
The formal title stung.
“That was unforgivable,” he added, as if condemning himself might change his feelings. Or hers.
Delaney had feared seeing regret in his expression, but now she was consumed by it. She should have stopped him.
She hadn’t, and now she’d probably lose her job. Like she’d already lost her heart.
She wrapped her arms around herself. “It wasn’t,” she said. “Unforgivable. Considering I didn’t stop you.” Kissing him back the way she had… “I was just as…” Involved. Invested.
Carried away.
It was impossible to meet his eyes, so she focused on Charlotte’s partially open door.
Charlotte, the sweet, traumatized four-year-old who’d just woken from a nightmare. “She needs me.”
“I know.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I know.” He took a step back. “Forgive me. Miss Wright.”
Before she could respond, he swiveled and walked away, then disappeared into the room at the end of the hall. He closed the door softly, but the sound reverberated with the echo of their mistake.