Chapter 15
fifteen
. . .
Archer
I’d spoken to Winnie multiple times a day while she was gone. I was shocked at how much I’d missed her. How she’d become a part of our family structure in such a short time.
She’d moved in less than two months ago.
But I supposed having someone in your life day in and day out—she was here in the mornings and at night—could cause you to grow attached to them.
Who knew.
She’d become someone I trusted and depended on where my daughter was concerned.
Hell, she’d become someone I trusted and depended on personally as well.
I’d missed her in a way I hadn’t expected, and she’d only been gone for a few days.
I knew this wasn’t good, wasn’t smart—but I didn’t know how to stop it.
And don’t even get me started on how many times I’d gotten off to this woman in the shower every damn day. It was the one guilty pleasure I’d allowed myself.
To give in to my desires from afar.
Sure, it was a little fucked up, but it was a hell of a lot better than acting on it.
“Winnie, I can’t believe you got me the best gifts ever,” Melody gushed.
We’d agreed that we’d celebrate Christmas when she got home. And my daughter had been so excited to open the final gifts under the tree that Winnie didn’t even get to go to her room and relax after we’d picked her up from the airport, because we jumped right into gift-opening.
“You like them?” she asked.
“You know how much I love to draw,” Melody said, holding up the wood case with hundreds of colored pencils and the large drawing notebook she’d gotten her. “And I can’t wait to make lots of friendship bracelets together.”
She’d gotten Melody way too much.
A bracelet-making kit, the drawing pencils and paper, and she still had two more packages to open.
“Open this one next,” Winnie said, handing my daughter the large box.
Melody tore the paper off and gasped when she lifted the lid to the box and saw the pink cowboy boots. “Winnie! You gots me the pink boots I love.”
How the hell didn’t I know she loved pink cowboy boots?
“I did. I remembered that day we saw them at the store, and I couldn’t wait to get them for you.” She pushed one more package in front of her. “And this is the last one.”
Melody opened the box to find a matching cowboy hat, and when she squealed with excitement and flung herself at Winnie, I was fairly certain I saw tears roll down both of their cheeks.
I loved how much this woman adored my daughter.
It was genuine and real and rare.
Melody ran off to her room to check herself out in the mirror with her new boots and hat on, and Winnie turned and handed me a package.
“I thought we said no gifts for us?”
“It’s nothing big. Just a little something to wish you a merry Christmas, Archie.” Her cheeks pinked, because she had no idea that I’d also broken the agreement.
“Thank you,” I said as I tore the wrapping off the box.
When I lifted the top and set it aside, I took out the gorgeous frame with a collage of five photos in it.
The one in the center was me lifting Melody above my head as we both laughed.
It was the first day that it had snowed in Rosewood River, and we’d all three gone out to play in the snow.
The next one was of Melody dressed as a reindeer for the holiday program.
The third one was of Melody at her riding lesson up on her horse, Biffle, and she was clearly smiling at Winnie with her hand up.
The last two photos nearly took my breath away, because they were so unexpected.
One was of me sitting with my daughter on my lap reading her a book, and she was looking up at me with so much wonder.
And the last one was of the night we put the Christmas tree up, and I was bent down handing Melody an ornament, and she was smiling at me with her hand on my cheek.
Moments you don’t realize are even happening.
She’d captured them.
She was always taking photos with her phone or her Polaroid camera.
“You could also be a photographer if you decide on a career change,” I said, staring down at the photos. “You’re so talented.”
“I’m not the reason those photos are so special.”
“Thank you. I love these.” I cleared my throat, surprised how emotional I felt after looking at them.
“Daddy, can we give Winnie her present now?” Melody asked as she came bounding down the hallway in her hat and boots.
“Hey, I thought we said no gifts,” Winnie said, frowning at me.
“Are you seriously going to pull the no-gifts rule out when you just gave me a gift?”
“Fine.” She chewed her bottom lip.
Fuck. She was cute as hell.
Sexy and sweet and brilliant, all at the same time.
“Come on, Winnie,” Melody said, reaching for her hand.
“Oh, we’re going to the gift? The gift is not in here?” she asked, her brows cinched together.
“We’re going to the gift,” I said, leading her down the hall.
I’d worked hard on this room while she was gone, and I couldn’t wait to show her.
Winnie deserved a real office. She wrote a lot, and she should have her own space to work.
There was a bow on the bedroom door across from where my gym was, and she turned to look at me. “This is the guest room.”
“Not any-mores,” Melody sang out as she pushed the door open.
I’d found a vintage printer’s desk at the antique store in town, and I immediately thought of Winnie.
She was an old soul, and she enjoyed the story behind things, such as furniture and art and other unique pieces.
She was always asking questions when we walked through town, about where things originated, and how they’d come about.
“Daddy and me painted the walls your favorite color, safe green.” My daughter clapped her hands together.
“Sage green,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets because Winnie had yet to speak. Maybe this was too much.
What was I thinking?
It had started as just adding a desk to the guest room, and then I’d spoken to Emilia, who’d helped come up with a plan to transform the space for Winnie.
Emilia had talked to the girls, who’d framed a few of their favorite quotes from Winnie’s books and placed them on a chair in the corner.
She glanced up at the antique crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the room.
“Uh, Emilia said the light was a big part of setting the mood for your workspace,” I said.
She turned to look at me, and I startled when I saw two tears rolling down her cheeks. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”
“I can’t believe all that you’ve done for Melody. For us. This is just our little way of thanking you.”
“Winnie, are those sad tears or happy tears?” Melody asked, her brows cinched together with concern.
“Definitely happy tears, sweet pea.” She sniffed a few times and swiped at her face. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
She continued moving in a circle, taking it all in.
“How about you go grab Winnie some tissues,” I said to my daughter.
The minute Melody was gone, Winnie moved toward me.
She placed a hand on each side of my face, pushed up on her tiptoes, and kissed me. I didn’t hold back. I tangled my hand in her hair and tilted her head to the side. Needing more.
Needing everything.
Her lips parted the slightest bit as my tongue slipped inside and tangled with hers.
I wanted to kiss every inch of her.
But she pulled back, cheeks pink and lips plump.
And she smiled. Eyes tender and full of emotion.
“I know that wasn’t smart, and I know it can’t go anywhere, but I needed to do that. Just one time, okay?”
I was still processing her words when Melody came running in the room with a box of tissues.
“Thank you,” Winnie said to my daughter, and then her gaze locked with mine. “Truly, this means the world to me.”
“You’re going to write all the books in here.” Melody danced around the room, and Winnie smiled up at me.
“Yes. This is officially the romance room. And there is definitely a story behind this desk.”
I chuckled, still a little stunned that she’d kissed me. “I knew you’d want to know the story behind it, and it came with a little explanation about the history of the piece. I tucked it in the top drawer.”
She sighed as her gaze locked with mine. “You’re full of surprises, Archer Chadwick.”
“So are you.” I winked at her.
“I’m hungry, Daddy,” Melody said, and Winnie quickly pulled her gaze from mine.
“Hey, how about we do breakfast for dinner?” Winnie said, scooping Melody into her arms. “I know you’ve been missing my pancakes, and I can make some bacon and eggs, too.”
“Yes! I loves the breakfast at dinner time, right, Daddy?”
“Right.”
I’d just kissed my nanny.
I’d kissed Winnie.
And I’d fucking liked it. Liked it more than I’d ever liked kissing anyone.
“Relax, Archie. We’ll eat some pancakes and it’ll all be fine.” Winnie chuckled and glanced over her shoulder at me, as if she knew I was having a mild freak-out. And then she walked toward the kitchen.
“Yeah. It’s pancakes, Daddy. Winnie’s pancakes!” My daughter’s head fell back in a fit of giggles as Winnie set her down on the floor in the kitchen.
But I knew the fucking truth.
This was so much more than pancakes.