Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
TATUM
“ A ll good?” I glance over my shoulder, fingers crossed for good news.
I’m lying facedown on an exam bed in Bad Dog’s only urgent care, feeling a little better now that the foreign object has been removed from my rear end. “It’s not a tooth, right?” I ask. “No way it could be a tooth because turkeys don’t have teeth. I googled it on the way over to be sure.”
The doctor, a kind-looking older woman with her gray hair cut in a neat bob, glances up from my recently probed bottom with a reassuring smile. “No, it’s not a tooth.” She holds out the tweezers she used to remove the whatever-it-was from my backside. “It’s a corn kernel. Feed corn, to be specific.”
“Corn.” I frown. “So, Kyle was eating before he bit me?”
“Maybe. But more likely he’d swallowed it a while ago and had it stored in his crop. Like you said, turkeys don’t have teeth, so they break down their food in a pouch at the back of their throat with the help of their gizzard.”
“Gizzard is a funny word,” I say, feeling a little loopy after the painkillers she gave me before we got started.
She nods. “It is.” She plunks the corn kernel in a sterling silver bowl on the rolling cart beside the exam table. “I’m guessing Kyle was already digesting this kernel, exposing it to bacteria in his digestive tract, and therefore making your wound much more likely to get infected.” She rests a gentle hand on my shoulder. “But you’re all cleaned up now and a round of antibiotics will take care of this. You’re going to live, Miss O’Leary. I’ll tell your family you’ll be right out. Take your time getting dressed.”
“Thank you,” I say, not bothering to correct her.
Drew and Sarah Beth aren’t my family, obviously, but it sure feels good to know the two of them are out there waiting for me. I play it tough most of the time, but I’m glad I’m not alone at my apartment right now, trying to fish a piece of corn out of my own booty and rolling the dice on expired antibiotics.
I dress carefully, but my wound already feels so much better. It makes me wonder how Wren’s doing. She said she got pecked in the backside, too, after all.
I shoot her a quick text, explaining what happened and warning her that Kyle is not only terrifying, but potentially diseased, and encourage her to call animal control in the morning.
She doesn’t reply right away, so I slip my phone into my purse and head out to the waiting room to find Drew already at the check-out window. I hurry over, nudging him away with my elbow. “Don’t you dare. I’ll pay for it. I’m the one who thought it would be a good idea to take on a wild turkey. I deserve to pay the price.”
“It’s already settled,” Drew says, tucking his wallet into the back pocket of his dress pants. He’s still wearing his work clothes—dark gray dress pants and a blue button-down shirt with a deeper blue tie—and looks good enough to eat. I still prefer him in cozy flannel and jeans that hug those incredible thighs of his, but there’s something to be said for fancy Drew, too.
He arches a brow and I clear my throat; afraid I’ve been caught staring. “Well, thank you,” I say, forcing my gaze to stay fixed on his face. “I appreciate it. And I’ll pay you back as soon as I get my first paycheck. My employer is good for it. I promise.”
“I don’t want your money,” he says, leading the way back to where Sarah Beth is deep in play at the toy train table in the corner. “What I want is a promise you’ll stay away from Wren’s place until we get this situation sorted. I called Barrett while you were back getting checked out. He drove home to get his shotgun and headed out to Wren’s house, but I don’t know if the mission was successful yet.”
Hmmm, Barrett is over at Wren’s place, and she isn’t responding to texts.
Interesting…
But I know better than to express that to Drew. Wren trusted me with her secret and I’m not about to betray her. So, I simply nod, and promise, “Absolutely. I have no urge to get another piece of corn stuck in my backside.”
He huffs. “Corn?”
“Yep. Corn. Feed corn. Seems like someone’s been feeding Kyle.”
Drew makes a considering sound. “That would make sense. Probably part of why he’s lost his fear of humans.”
“Hopefully he’s nicer to whoever’s feeding him than he is to Wren or me. Wren got pecked on the backside yesterday, too, but hopefully Kyle didn’t break the skin that time. I sent her a text to warn her that he’s got a nasty, dirty bird mouth, just in case.”
“Nasty dirty bird mouth,” Drew repeats, his lips curving. “Band name?”
“A metal band, maybe,” I say, grinning.
“We’re Nasty Dirty Bird Mouth, you’ve been great Chicago,” he says into a fake microphone, making me laugh. He smiles. “You seem better.”
“I feel better. Thank you for making me come here. You were right.”
His chest puffs up. “That’s the kind of a thing a guy likes to hear.”
I grin. “Yeah? You enjoy praise?”
“Only when I deserve it,” he says, holding my gaze for a beat too long, making heat rise in my cheeks again and my thoughts turn to how worthy of praise he was the other night.
“Daddy, I’m starving,” a little voice says from inches away, making Drew and I both jump and laugh. “Are you okay, Tatum?”
“Sorry, honey,” Drew says, as I assure her, “I am, thanks. Sorry I kept you guys from your dinner.”
“It’s okay, we were having grilled chicken,” Sarah Beth says, sticking out her tongue in a “yuck” face. “But we can’t now. It’s too late to cook it, right, Daddy?”
Drew narrows his eyes on her face. “You’re getting way too clever, kiddo. I’m not going to be able to get away with anything anymore, am I?”
Sarah Beth grins. “So, we can have pizza?”
“Sure,” Drew says. “Pizza for everyone, then back home to get ready for bed.” He glances my way. “Would you want to sleep over? I have fresh sheets on the guest room bed already. Might be good to have people nearby, just in case something goes wrong tonight.”
I don’t think anything is going to go wrong—I really do feel so much better—but I nod and say, “Thank you. I’d appreciate it.”
“Sleepover!” Sarah Beth crows, grabbing my hand and bouncing toward the door. “We’re having a sleepover!”
I wrinkle my nose. “Nah, this is just a guest night. For a real sleepover, we’ll have to do it on a Saturday, make tons of popcorn and a cozy bed on the floor in the living room, and convince your dad to let us stay up until ten. Or maybe even ten-thirty.”
Her eyes go big as she glances from me to Drew. “I’ve never stayed up until ten-thirty before. Can I, Daddy? Can we do a real sleepover?”
“Sure,” he says. “When we have time to plan it in advance.”
“This Saturday?” she presses, making us both laugh and Drew say, “Let’s give Tatum a little more time to recover, okay? I’m sure she’ll be ready for a restful weekend after her first week at work.”
In truth, the thought of spending the weekend with Drew and Sarah Beth sounds wonderful, but I don’t say anything because that would be weird. No matter how right it feels to share pizza and laughter and stories with the McGuires, I’m not a part of their family, and I never will be. I’m the nanny, not the girlfriend.
And even if I were the girlfriend, this would be way too soon to start indulging fantasies of belonging to these people.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
I’m not usually the kind to rush into things like this. I take my time, make sure I can trust new people, and am careful about giving my heart away. My love life hasn’t been all that traumatic, but I’ve seen the fallout of insta-love gone wrong way too many times.
My mom fell hard and fast for several losers before she found Bruce, my stepdad. I watched her cry and toss clothes out the window too many times to think a crush is a harmless thing.
So, when Drew shows me to the guest room and asks if I need anything aside from the sweatpants and t-shirt he’s loaning me to sleep in, I assure him, “Nope. I always have a toiletry bag in my purse for emergencies so I’m all set. Thank you again for your help and kindness tonight. I appreciate it so much.”
“My pleasure,” he says. “You can count on me and Sarah Beth any time you’re in trouble. You’re not just our nanny; you’re someone we care about.”
Heart twisting, I force a smile. “I feel the same. And I promise not to get partially digested corn stuck in my backside and fall asleep on the job ever again. You can count on me.”
He laughs. “Sounds good.”
Down the hall, Sarah Beth calls out, “Daddy are you going to read me a story?”
Drew calls back, “Be right there, honey.” To me, he says, “Sleep well.”
“Thanks.” I shut the door to the guest room and lean back against it, pressing my fist to my chest.
What is up with all this aching and longing? I barely know Drew.
Or so I tell myself as I lie down on the plush mattress and snuggle under the sheets, wishing my bed at my short-term rental were half as comfortable. But as I listen to the soft drone of Drew’s deep voice, reading to Sarah Beth down the hall, I don’t feel like a guest. I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. Like I’m…home.
It’s the painkillers. They’ve clearly scrambled your brains. You’ll be fine come tomorrow morning. Just sleep it off and stop being ridiculous.
Doing my best to follow the Voice of Reason’s advice, I turn on my side and curl up into a ball. But sleep is a long time coming and when I finally do nod off, I dream of walking through a country fair in summertime, with Drew and Sarah Beth’s hands in mine.
It’s not even a sex dream. It’s a “I wish we were a family” dream.
I wake up feeling like I swallowed a box full of rocks and know I can’t let things go on like this. I have to nip this crush in the bud before it ruins my fresh start in Bad Dog.
A plan forming, I grab my cell from the bedside table and pull up my texts. There’s still no response from Wren to my text from last night, but I go ahead and shoot her a few more messages anyway— Hope you’re okay and Barrett took care of your Kyle problem.
Assuming you’re still single this morning, I was wondering if you’d want to go dancing this Friday night. One of the other nannies at gymnastics yesterday said there’s a great bar with live music not too far from the lake, on the way out of town.
We could get ready at my place and go together if you want. I’m clearly terrible at defending my friends from foul fowl, but I do a great blowout. Let me know and feel free to invite anyone else you think might enjoy a night out. I’m ready to make lots of new girlfriends and enjoy being single!
I leave out the part about hoping to find a cute guy to make out with at the bar to help banish Drew from my besotted brain and swing out from under the sheets. I make the bed, shower, and change back into my clothes from yesterday, pleased to see my wound is already looking a thousand times better. At this rate, I should be healed up and ready to shake a tailfeather by Friday, no problem.
And it looks like I’ll have a friend to take with me.
As I’m brushing my hair, a text comes through from Wren— Dancing sounds amazing. I’m in. And of course, I’m still single. Kyle was waiting for me outside this morning and is no longer afraid of the shotgun blast. I had to poke him in the chest with the barrel to get him to let me into my car. He was hiding last night when Barrett was here, just like when Drew followed me home. I’m beginning to think he’s scared of men.
Thumbs racing as I hear Sarah Beth pound down the stairs, I say— Well, don’t worry. We’ll figure out a way to make him afraid of women, too. Or you’ll call animal control and let the chips fall where they may. Just don’t let him bite you again. You don’t want to end up at urgent care the way I did.
Wren replies— I saw that! You poor thing. I’m so sorry I didn’t message you back last night. I didn’t see the text until late and I didn’t want to wake you. Take it easy today and be sure to eat something with your antibiotics. They can really mess up your tummy otherwise.
Will do, I say. I’m off to make Sarah Beth breakfast. Text with more details on Friday soon!
Tucking my cell into the little pocket on the side of my leggings, I hurry downstairs. By the time Drew comes down a few minutes later, I have Sarah settled with a bowl of berries and am sautéing onions and peppers for an egg scramble.
“That smells amazing,” he says, pausing beside me to pull in a deep breath, making me want to lean back and offer him my lips for a morning kiss.
Instead, I force my stupid body to stay exactly where it is and cheerfully announce, “Good, because there’s plenty for all of us. Scrambles and coffee on the table in five minutes.”
Yep. I need a “Get My Mind off Drew Rebound Boy” and I need him quick.
Friday night can’t get here soon enough.