Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWO
Annabelle
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, scrutinizing every detail as I hold up two different tops. The blue tank top makes my eyes pop, but the green t-shirt hugs my curves in all the right places. Why am I overthinking this? It's just another day of work, watching Ashlynn, cleaning up toys, making lunch. Except it's not just another day, not since that kiss with Nolan.
The kiss that's been replaying in my mind for the past two weeks.
I toss both options onto my bed and dig through my closet again. This is ridiculous. I'm a professional nanny, not a lovesick teenager. But the way his lips felt against mine, the way his hand cupped my face so gently yet possessively. The memory makes me groan. I knew if I ever let myself touch him, it would be over with.
"Get it together, Annabelle," I mutter to myself, finally settling on a simple white t-shirt and jeans that look casual but flattering. I add a delicate necklace that sits just at my collarbone. Professional, but not trying too hard. Perfect.
As I apply a light touch of makeup, I rehearse what I'll say when I see him. "Good morning, Mr. King." Too formal after what happened, besides I've never called him Mr. King. Not since I was interviewed, but even then it wasn't that formal. Ashlynn was in my room at the daycare, and we'd known each other, at least in the acquaintance type of way. "Hey, Nolan." Too casual, like we're friends or something more. I do call him Nolan, but typically it's with the respect reserved for an employer. "Morning." Simple, cheerful, non-committal. Yes, that's safe. No it's not, I sound like an idiot. I'm not super cheerful in the morning, and it'll seem like I'm thinking about this too much. Which I am.
My phone buzzes with a text from Daisy.
D: How's the hot dad situation?
I groan. I'd made the mistake of telling her about the kiss during our weekly dinner. I respond with a quick two words.
A: Don't start
Grabbing my purse, I check the clock on my phone. I'm running early, which means I have time to make a stop before heading to Nolan's house.
The drive to Get Baked, a bakery downtown, gives me too much time to think. The kiss had been a mistake, a beautiful, heart-stopping mistake. There have been a couple times since I started working for him where I wanted something more than what we had. But I'd always been able to convince myself it was just me. Until he took the plunge and kissed me.
Now? Now I can't forget about it.
Get Baked's bell chimes as I push open the door, the heavenly scent of fresh pastries momentarily distracting me from my thoughts. It's bustling with morning customers, and I join the line, scanning the display cases filled with colorful macaroons, flaky croissants, and decadent cakes.
"Annabelle, how are you today. Haven't seen you in a while."
I look up to see Gabby, the bakery's owner, waving at me from behind the counter. Her hair is contained in a bright bandana, and flour dusts her cheeks.
"Hey, Gabby," I smile, stepping up to the counter when it's my turn. "I know, I was starting to gain weight," I laugh. "How are you?"
"Busy as always, but can't complain. The usual for you?" She reaches for a blueberry muffin, my typical order.
"Actually," I hesitate, feeling my cheeks warm, "I was wondering if you could help me with something."
Gabby raises an eyebrow, her lips curling into a knowing smile. "Sure thing, girl. What's up?"
"Do you know what Nolan usually orders when he comes in?"
Her smile widens into a grin. "Ohhh, so it's like that, huh?"
"No, it's not," I start, but she waves away my protest.
"Girl, please. I see that blush. But I get it, he's quite the catch. Every time he comes in here, he cuts line, and no one says a damn word to him. Not to mention, he's such a devoted dad." She leans in conspiratorially. "Nolan always gets a cinnamon roll. Extra icing. He's got a hell of a sweet tooth."
My heart does a little flip at this answer. It's something I didn't know before. "Could I get two of those to go, please?"
"Coming right up." Gabby packs two enormous cinnamon rolls into a pink box, the frosting gleaming under the bakery lights. "Good luck," she winks as she hands me the box.
"Thanks, but it's not," I stop myself. What's the point in denying it? "Thanks, Gabby."
Back in my car, the sweet cinnamon scent fills the space, and I find myself growing nervous as I drive toward Nolan's neighborhood. What if he thinks this is too forward? What if he regrets the kiss entirely and wants to keep things strictly professional? What if I'm making a fool of myself? It wouldn't be the first time.
But then I remember the tenderness in his eyes when he looks at Ashlynn, how his whole face lights up when she accomplishes something new. I think about how he tries to take the random afternoon off so he can be with her. A man who loves his daughter that much has a heart worth knowing. He's the kind of man I've always wanted to be with.
I pull into his driveway at exactly 8 AM, my usual time. Taking a deep breath, I grab the bakery box and my bag, then head to the front door. I use my key, and step inside.
"Hello?" I call out, my voice embarrassingly shaky.
"In the kitchen." Nolan's deep voice responds, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.
I find him at the counter, laptop open, coffee mug in hand. His dark hair is slightly rumpled, like he's been running his hands through it, a habit I've noticed when he's stressed about work. He's wearing a simple gray t-shirt that stretches across his shoulders in a way that makes my mouth go dry. It has to be stressful running a business like he does. He's responsible for a handful of full-time employees, and a whole bunch of seasonal ones. My nerves couldn't handle it.
"Morning," I say, aiming for that casual cheerfulness I'd practiced but landing somewhere closer to breathless. All because he looks like my country-boy wet dream. He's got the truck, the dirty boots, the jeans with holes (ass worn out), and a t-shirt that is two washes away from being completely done for.
His eyes meet mine, and there's a moment of charged silence before his gaze drops to the pink box in my hands. "What's that?"
"Oh," I set my bag down and step closer, placing the box on the counter between us like a peace offering. "I stopped at Get Baked on my way here." I open the lid, revealing the cinnamon rolls. "Gabby mentioned these are your favorite."
Nolan stares at the pastries, then at me, his expression unreadable. For a horrifying moment, I think I've made a terrible mistake, crossed a line I shouldn't have. But then his face softens, and something that looks almost like vulnerability flashes in his eyes.
"You got these for me?" His voice is quiet, almost wondering.
I nod, my throat suddenly tight. "I thought... well, everyone deserves a treat sometimes, right? Even busy dads. Especially busy dads."
He reaches for one of the rolls, our fingers brushing slightly in the process. The contact sends electricity shooting up my arm, and I quickly pull back.
"I can't remember the last time someone brought me something just because," he says, breaking off a piece of the roll. "Everything is always for Ashlynn, which is how it should be, don't get me wrong. I wouldn't change that for the world. But this..." He trails off, looking at me with an intensity that makes my heart race.
"It's just a cinnamon roll," I say softly, though we both know it's more.
"Thank you, Belle." The way he says my name, in that scratchy, masculine voice of his, makes my knees weak.
A sound breaks the moment, and we both turn to see Ashlynn at the kitchen entrance. She's holding onto the doorframe, her legs supporting her as she takes steps forward. Her dark curls, so much like her father's, bounce with each determined movement, her unicorn pajamas slightly too big on her tiny frame.
"Belle, Belle." she babbles excitedly when she sees me, letting go of the doorframe to reach for me. Because it's just she and I, we've been working a lot on her talking. She's much further along than most other three-almost four-year-olds her age.
I quickly move to scoop her up before she topples over. "Good morning, sunshine. Look at you getting yourself out of bed." We both know that Nolan got her out of bed, and then let her decide when she wanted to come into the kitchen. Independence is important to him.
As I hold Ashlynn, Nolan catches my eye over her head. His gaze is warm, appreciative, and something else I can't quite name, something that makes my pulse quicken.
Ashlynn points at the cinnamon rolls, making an inquisitive "Ohhh?" sound while looking between her father and the pastries.
"Belle brought us a special breakfast," Nolan explains softly, his eyes not leaving mine.
Ashlynn reaches out with curious fingers, and Nolan breaks off a tiny, soft piece for her. I can't recall us ever trying this with her.
I settle her in her chair, where she happily eats the tiny piece of pastry, making delighted noises. Nolan and I stand on opposite sides of the counter, watching her, stealing glances at each other when we think the other isn't looking.
"I was thinking of taking her to the park today," I say, reaching for a napkin to wipe the sticky icing from her fingers. "The weather's supposed to be perfect."
"She'd love that," Nolan adds, finishing his cinnamon roll. He licks a spot of icing from his thumb, and I force myself to look away, my cheeks burning. Because I'm totally wondering what it would be like for him to lick me like that.
"What about you?" I ask, busying myself with cleaning up Ashlynn's mess. "Lot's going on at work today?"
"Just one bid at eleven, and checking on a job site. Should be done by lunch." He pauses, then adds, "Maybe I could join you both at the park afterward?"
"We'd love that," I say, my voice soft, hopefully I'm not telling him just how much I would love it. If I put myself out there too much, I run the risk of pushing him away.
His smile is worth every moment of overthinking this morning, worth every second of the past two weeks of uncertainty. I don't know what this thing between us is or where it's going, but standing here in his kitchen, watching him with his daughter, I know I want to find out.
"Come on, sweetie," I tell Ashlynn, helping her down from the stool. "Let's get you dressed for the day."
As we leave the kitchen, I glance back over my shoulder. Nolan is still watching me, the second cinnamon roll untouched in the box. He's saving it, I realize. Saving it for later, like he's savoring this moment, savoring whatever is beginning between us.
And despite all my overthinking and uncertainty, I can't help but smile.