Chapter 9
Ash
T here’s a slight breeze in the air, counteracting how the early morning sun feels shining on me as I go into downward dog. Bubba is sitting about three feet in front of me, staring at me with confusion as the yoga instructor on my iPad talks to the class. It’s a recorded class, not a live one, but it does the job just as well.
It’s day three of being Tucker’s nanny, and since Tucker doesn’t wake up until closer to nine, I have enough time to get in a yoga sesh, then relax on the porch with a hot tea by myself before I have to get him breakfast and start the day. It’s been nice. In Portland, I’d go down to the park to do yoga, so being able to walk out to the front lawn has been convenient, to say the least, and easily something I could get used to.
I’m about to bring myself into child’s pose by lowering my knees back down to the ground, when I hear a voice clearing, startling me. Dropping my head, still in pose, I look behind me, spotting Finn standing there with a puzzled expression on his face. My knees collide with the mat before I swirl around, pushing to a stand.
“Oh, hi,” I sputter awkwardly, all too aware of the fact that I’m standing before my boss in extremely tight compression shorts and nothing else. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”
Finn’s eyes trail up my body, shaking his head as they land on my face. “Uh, yeah.” Clearing his throat, he says, “I forgot my phone.”
Bubba prances in front of him, tail wagging, clearly thrilled to see his owner again so soon.
He doesn’t make any attempt to go into the house to retrieve said phone. Instead, we stand stock still, staring at one another for entirely too long before I finally find my voice.
“Tucker isn’t up yet,” I offer by way of explanation as to why I’m standing half naked on his front lawn. As if his child’s sleep patterns are unknown to him. “So, I’m getting in a quick morning yoga class before he wakes up.”
His brow furrows beneath the brim of his cowboy hat. A cowboy hat I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing him wearing. Finn’s already gone by the time I wake up, so I don’t see it on him in the morning, and then when he gets home, he immediately takes it off. Kind of wish he’d wear it more. It’s a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure. “You do yoga?” he asks, as if it’s the strangest concept.
“Mmhmm.” I nod. “I try to every morning. It’s a great way to start the day, you know.”
“No, I don’t know,” he replies plainly.
“You should try it sometime.”
Flattening his lips together, he looks at me like I suggested he should attempt to fly to the moon with a homemade rocket. “I’m…” He gestures to the house behind me, clearing his throat again. “I’m going to get my phone and get back to work.”
I smile at him, feeling like this entire interaction has been a little weird. “Okay. I’m done here. I’m going to make some tea before Tucker gets up, and then we’re running into town.”
Bending down, I roll up the yoga mat as I hear the screen door open and close behind me. Finn is an interesting man. It’s like I can never fully get a read on him; sometimes it feels like he can’t stand me, or it’s like my presence is more of a bother than anything, like just now. Then other times, like the other night, it’s like I’m growing on him. Granted, I’ve only been here a few days, and realistically, it will probably take way more time than that to build any sort of relationship with him, good or bad. I just need to be patient, I suppose.
After he grabs his phone, he tips his hat at me before leaving without another word. As I’m fixing my cup of hot tea, Tucker pads into the kitchen, barefoot and his hair a mess atop his head. Sleep lines from his pillow cover the side of his face, and his pajama shirt is twisted and lifted a bit, revealing his belly. Man, it looks like he slept hard last night.
“Morning, T.” I grin at him, earning me a sleepy, crooked smile. “How’d you sleep?”
He gives me a thumbs up before climbing onto the barstool at the counter. Stretching his arms over his head, he yawns.
“You hungry?” I ask, and he nods lazily. “What do you want? I can make you some oatmeal or some French toast. Maybe a bacon and egg scramble?”
Tucker rests his head on his hand as he thinks it over for a moment. “Oatmeal!”
“You got it, dude!” Opening the pantry, I say, “We’ve got strawberry, blueberry, or banana oatmeal. Pick your poison.”
“Pick my poison?” he parrots with a laugh. “I don’t want poison!”
Chuckling, I spin around to face him. “It just means pick whichever one you want.”
Tucker hums, tapping a finger to his chin. “Strawberry!”
“Good choice, kiddo.”
After I make him the oatmeal and slice up some fruit to have with it, I clean up the kitchen as he eats. I want to run to the craft store and the grocery store to pick up a few things that I think would be fun for Tuck and I to do together. So, after I get him dressed for the day, we head out to do just that.
One of the activities I really enjoyed doing with the kids in my class in Portland is making homemade playdough. It’s so simple to make, and the kids love getting to be a part of that process before also getting to play with it. At the craft store, I also stop and browse the pottery aisle. It’s something I used to do all the time. There was a place a few blocks from my apartment that had weekly pottery classes, but it closed a few months ago. I got pretty good, and I enjoyed it, but I never had the space to do it in Portland. My apartment was too small.
But my room at Finn’s place is huge, not to mention there’s a decent-sized barn in the backyard that, from what I can tell, is mostly unused. I’ve wondered for the last few days if he’d let me set up shop out there. I’d like to get back into pottery. It’s relaxing and would be a great hobby to do in the evenings after I’m finished with work.
I don’t buy anything, wanting to talk to Finn first, but it’s nice to see that if he were to agree, everything that I would need is here. I wouldn’t have to order anything.
Back at the house, I turn on some music on my phone, and Tucker and I get started on making the playdough. He’s so dang excited he can hardly sit still, and it’s contagious. I love seeing him so happy about this. After the dough is made, we separate it into five different balls so we can make different colors. Tucker decides on blue, red, green, yellow, and purple.
“This is so cool!” he exclaims once we’re finished and he’s able to start playing with it.
I picked up some cookie cutters at the store, so he’s able to cut out whatever shapes he wants. The two of us sit at the table, playing with the colorful dough and listening to music for what feels like hours. By the time I look up at the clock above the stove, I realize it’s lunchtime. After we eat, we decide to take Bubba on a walk around the property. I don’t know my way around this place yet, so I make sure to stick to an easy path so we don’t get lost.
East of Finn’s house, there’s a trail surrounded by trees. As far as I know, it’s part of the Moore’s property. Tucker’s got his helmet fastened, and he rides his bike along the path as Bubba trots beside him the whole time. They seem to be the best of buds. It’s cute. I always wanted a dog when I was a kid, but it never happened. From behind them, I snap a picture and a quick video, shooting it off to Finn. I know he’s working, so he may not see it until later, but I’m sure he’ll appreciate it once he does have a moment to look.
Much to my surprise, a few minutes later, my phone buzzes in my hand. A response from Finn.
Finn: Cute.
Man of many words.
Me: We made some playdough earlier too. May be too soon to tell, but I think I’m killing it at this gig. Tucker loves me. The dog loves me. Hell, I think even the chickens fancy me. You’re welcome. *wink emoji*
Finn: So modest.
The way he doesn’t use any emojis and his favorite form of punctuation seems to be a period trips me up. Like, is he mad at me? Annoyed by me texting him? Hate my guts? Or maybe he’s just an eighty-year-old man trapped inside the body of a…thirty-year-old? I guess I don’t even know how old he is, but he’s certainly young enough to use emojis.
My phone buzzes with another message.
Finn: Wednesdays are family dinner night up at my dad’s house. If you don’t have plans, you’re welcome to come.
He’s inviting me to family dinner? How nice.
Me: I don’t have plans. I’d love to come. :)
Finn: It’s at six. I’ll be working late, if you and Tucker want to meet me there by then.
I send him the Michelle Tanner “You got it dude” gif. It shows read immediately, but he doesn’t respond. Figures. I wonder how my sister likes his short and to-the-point texts.
Finn and Violet couldn’t be more different, and not for the first time since I moved in not even a week ago, I wonder how they work, and how they came to be a couple in the first place. From the day I moved in and saw the way he interacts with her, I’ve been more than a little confused. The way Violet has talked about him for the last couple of months since they started dating made it seem like they were getting pretty serious. Yet Saturday was the first time she ever met his family, and he didn’t exactly look thrilled to see her when we showed up.
Eh, not my circus, not my monkeys.
The rest of the afternoon goes by without a hitch. Tucker is well-behaved, and I genuinely enjoy hanging out with him. It doesn’t feel like a chore having to entertain him, which definitely helps. I’ve had jobs where I didn’t mesh with all the kids, and it would make the days drag or I’d want to pull my hair out. That’s not the case here—at least not yet anyway.
By the time it’s nearing dinner and Tucker and I are getting ready to head up to Gentry’s, nerves rustle low in my gut, but I’m not sure why. So far, everybody I’ve met here seems wonderful, but I guess I want them to like me. I live here now, and work for Finn, taking care of Tucker. The Moore clan seems to be close-knit. Their approval matters. Not that I worry that I’m unlikable or anything, but… I don’t know. I want to impress them. Impress Finn. Want him to know it wasn’t a mistake hiring me, even if we got off on the wrong foot that first day.
Hollis and a guy I haven’t met yet are tossing a football around as I park my car in front of the barn next to the other two vehicles out here. Tucker unfastens his car seat and jets out of the door, running over to his uncle and the other guy, leaving me behind to walk over to them without a buffer.
Glancing up at me, Hollis smiles and nods. “Hey Ash, this is my cousin, August.” Then he directs his gaze at him. “Aug, this is Ash, Tucker’s new manny.”
Manny. I don’t know why that phrase makes me chuckle.
“Hey.” I lift my hand into a wave like a weirdo. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
God, this is awkward.
“Finn’s inside with our dad,” Hollis offers, maybe sensing our uncomfortable I feel. “Or if ya want to play catch with us, feel free to join.”
Hollis and Finn have a lot of similarities as far as their appearance goes, but from what I can tell in the little bit of time I’ve been around Hollis, they couldn’t be more different when it comes to their personalities. Where Finn comes off stoic and almost cold, Hollis seems bubbly and extraverted. Every time I’ve seen him, he’s been smiling or laughing, whereas that seems to be a rare occurrence with his brother. Gentry shares that quality with the latter, so I’m guessing Hollis gets his personality from his mom.
“I’ll head inside and let him know I’m here,” I reply, letting my gaze slide down to Tucker. “You staying out here?”
“Out here,” he says. “I wanna play catch with Uncle Hollis!”
Rustling his hair, I head inside. I’ve only been inside this house one time, but it’s not hard to find the kitchen. Gentry and Finn look up as I walk in, making my stomach flip.
“Hey,” I murmur, suddenly wishing I would’ve stayed home instead. Why am I so nervous?
“You just get here?” Finn asks. He’s shredding a block of cheese, and I have to force my eyes away from his tan, corded forearms.
He’s my boss and my sister’s boyfriend; I can’t be checking him out, no matter how yummy his arms look as he does something as simple as preparing dinner.
Clearing my throat, I nod. “Yeah. Tucker’s playing outside with Hollis and August.”
“How ya doin’, Ash?” Gentry asks, his voice deep and gruff.
“Doing good.” I smile. “Thanks for having me.”
He nods. “You’re welcome here anytime. Told my son to invite Tucker’s last nanny to these dinners, but he never did. I was thrilled to hear you were comin’ tonight.”
My stomach does a flip as my gaze slides over to Finn. His jaw clenches as he stares at his dad, looking less than pleased that he shared that information with me. “Tucker wanted him to come,” he mutters, making it crystal clear that he didn’t.
Cool. Nothing fucking awkward about that.
Gentry chuckles. “Well, whatever the reason may be, glad to have ya here, Ash.”
“Thank you, sir.” I smile at him, trying to ignore the thick, uncomfortable tension in the room. “Can I, uh, help with anything?”
“Polite and offers to help?” Gentry mutters to Finn with a smirk. “I like him.”
Lifting his dark green gaze to meet mine, the corner of his lip twitches. Not quite a smile, but almost.
“You can set the table,” Gentry instructs before gesturing toward the cabinet. “Plates are in there.”
The two men work together in the kitchen while I do that. They seamlessly move around one another, doing what needs to be done with not many actual words spoken. After a while, Hollis and August come in with Tucker in tow, cradling the football to his chest. Finn tells him to set the ball down and go wash his hands in the bathroom, and he does without any fuss.
Dishing up, we all sit at the long, hefty wooden table in the dining room. There’s something so sweet about watching these men converse, talking about their days despite working around each other all day, every day. Gentry sits at the head of the table, with Tucker to his right and Finn to his left. Hollis is next to his brother, with their cousin on his other side, while I take the spot right next to Tuck.
You can feel their bond just from sitting at this table with them. The way they crack jokes and tease each other, the way they listen intently to one another as they talk, and the way they all include Tucker in everything they talk about. None of them talk to him like he’s a little kid; they treat him like he’s one of them, and I love that.
“So, Ash,” Gentry says, pulling my attention to him. “How’re you likin’ being back in Wolf Creek? I’d imagine it’s a big change from the West Coast.”
I take a drink of my water before responding. “Well, to be honest, I had no intention of coming back.” I chuckle, more awkward than anything. “It appears the universe had other plans, but now that I’m here, it’s been nice. And yeah, it’s a culture shock, for sure.”
“You and your sister are twins?” This time, the question comes from Hollis.
I nod. “Yup, sure are.”
“It’s funny.” Hollis breathes out a laugh. “We had no idea my brother here”—he pats Finn roughly on the back—“even had a girlfriend until the idea of interviewing you came up.”
My eyes drift over to Finn, finding his jaw clenched as he brings the glass of water up to his mouth. I don’t know how to reply to that, so I just huff out a laugh.
“Daddy, you have a girlfriend?” Tucker asks, making me laugh harder, especially when Finn slices a glare toward his brother.
Glancing across the table at his son, Finn responds with, “She’s a friend, bug.”
“Do you kiss her?” Tucker’s face twists up as he asks the question.
“Yeah, Finn, do you kiss her?” Hollis teases. “Share with the class, because we know nothing.”
I don’t know if I should be offended on behalf of my sister that Finn is so tight-lipped about their relationship or intrigued. Hell, who am I kidding? I’m intrigued. Finn’s gaze slides from Tucker to me before looking away again. It’s brief, but it sends a wave of heat through my blood, though I’m not sure why.
“We’re not discussing this,” he grits out, wiping his mouth with a napkin before tossing it down on his empty plate. Standing, he reaches across the table to pick up Tucker’s empty plate before taking both into the kitchen.
Hollis and August laugh as Gentry glowers at his son, but I don’t miss the way his lip twitches like he wants to join in on the laughter. Flicking his gaze to me, Hollis shrugs. “Big brother is too easy to fuck with.”
“Language,” Gentry warns in a rumbling, authoritative tone, nodding to Tucker, who simply giggles at the curse word that came out of his uncle’s mouth.
“Okay, okay.” Hollis looks at me, a boyish grin tugging on his lips. He and Finn are night and day, I can already tell. Pushing away from the table, the friendlier Moore son stands up and grabs his plate as he says to me, “Lookin’ forward to gettin’ to know you better, Ash.” Then he tosses me a wink and walks away. Finn passes him on the way out of the kitchen, his hardened gaze fixed on his brother.
“Knock it off,” he growls quiet enough I almost don’t hear it.
After that, I go with Tucker, Hollis, and August outside for a while to toss around the football again, while Gentry and Finn clean the kitchen. By the time we head back to Finn’s, I can’t even remember why I was so nervous to go over there to begin with. It was fun, and it felt like I fit right in. I can’t remember the last time I had a dinner like that.
I could get used to this.