Chapter 5
Nancy
I sink onto the soft mattress of my new room, taking a moment to catch my breath and let my surroundings sink in.
In the end, I decided it would do me more good to take the job.
Drew seemed really in need of help and I couldn't in good conscience turn my back on that. He had mentioned that I didn't have anything to worry about or to be scared about. Well, Jamie knows where I am in case anything goes wrong. Plus, I feel like I'm meant to be here. I know it sounds cliché, but it's true.
Though modest in size, the space is warm and inviting, decorated in rich earth tones with cheerful splashes of color from the knitted afghan folded at the foot of the bed.
Unpacking my meager belongings shouldn’t take long—just a few hanging dresses in the closet and some folded sweaters in the antique dresser against the far wall.
Already it feels more like a home than my house ever did. I trail my fingers along the soft, woolen blanket, marveling at how such a simple domestic touch can breathe so much life and personality into a room.
A muffled thump from somewhere out in the hall snaps me from my musings. I straighten, straining to hear any other sounds that might hint as to what caused the unexpected noise.
When I don’t hear anything else after a few moments, I rise from the bed, padding over to the bedroom door and easing it open to peek out.
What I find rooted in the hallway makes my breath stutter in my lungs. Nathan lingers a few doors down, one hand braced against the wall as he bends to collect a fallen cardboard box.
His broad back is to me, those powerful muscles flexing beneath the cotton fabric of his simple gray T-shirt as he shifts. Even from behind, his physique is undeniably impressive — the kind of sun-kissed, rangy strength that comes from years spent laboring in the sun, not just mindless hours at a gym.
My gaze tracks hungrily over the way that worn shirt stretches taut across the broad expanse of his shoulders, the fabric growing tighter and beginning to shape itself to the contours of sculpted muscle the further down his back I look.
Good lord, the man is absolutely mouth-watering .
My tongue darts out to wet suddenly dry lips. I shouldn't be ogling him like a piece of meat, but there's no denying the insistent tugs of want that tighten low in my belly.
He straightens, rising to his full, towering height, and a soft gasp slips past my lips when he turns enough to offer me a glimpse of chiseled cheekbones and heavy-lidded eyes.
Nathan looks up sharply at the sound, pinning me in place with an intense stare as his gaze locks onto me standing frozen in the open doorway.
I swallow hard, my face flushing hotly at being caught staring so blatantly. There's a brief flicker of something indecipherable in his expression before he smooths it over with a friendly half-smile.
"Hey Nancy," he greets me, shifting to adjust the box he's holding. "Sorry about that. I dropped one of the storage boxes. Getting a little clumsy in my old age, I guess."
His teasing chuckle is deep and warm, the rich timbre of it sending a shiver skittering down my spine. I try to compose myself, sliding on a mask of professionalism in spite of the whirlwind of less-than-professional thoughts swirling in my head.
"No worries at all," I assure him, making a conscious effort to drag my eyes away from the tantalizing peek that I got of defined abdominal muscles visible where his shirt has rucked up. "Thanks for helping me.”
"Of course. I’m just doing what I should," Nathan says. He moves down the hall toward me, somehow managing to effortlessly exude an aura of raw masculinity and power, while still coming across as respectfully reserved.
It's a contradictory combination that I find dangerously alluring. I usher him into my room, hyperaware of the way his big body seems to command the space, consuming what little open area there is with his presence alone.
He sets the box down on the bed, brushing his hands off on his jeans before extending one to me with a lopsided grin. "I didn’t get to properly welcome you to the family earlier."
Family . He says the word so casually, like it's simply a given that I belong here now. Those simple syllables reverberate through me, stoking a strange longing that I tamp down firmly.
This is nothing more than a job , I remind myself sternly. He's just being friendly, probably pitying me for being alone in the world .
Swallowing hard, I force a polite smile and accept his hand. "You have a beautiful family."
My skin tingles at the contact, an unmistakable spark of awareness zinging between us. His grip is firm and sure, those calloused fingers enveloping my smaller hand easily.
Is it my imagination, or does he hold on for just a beat longer than necessary? I pull away first, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind my ear, desperate for something to do with my hands now that the simple act of touching him has thoroughly frazzled me.
"You, uh...you have a nice room here," Nathan says after clearing his throat. "I figure you'd want some space for all your personal stuff. Let me know if you need any shelves or storage put up."
"Oh, you really don't have to worry about all that," I protest, still trying to get my mental bearings. "This is more than enough space for me already."
He shakes his head, smiling faintly. "Nonsense. And what would people say about us if we allowed you live in a cramped little box?"
My cheeks warm at the casual endearment, another little part of me wishing it could maybe mean something more. But there's no point in nurturing those kinds of thoughts, not when this is a job. And certainly not when the man in question seems so far out of my league that we may as well exist in different stratospheres.
Nathan is already rifling through the box's contents, carefully removing stacks of worn paperbacks and a few knickknacks one by one. I hurry to help, wincing as I pull out an armful of fraying sweaters that have clearly seen better days.
"God, sorry about the mess," I murmur, embarrassed by the shabby state of my belongings next to the simple elegance of his surroundings. "Everything I own is pretty much garbage at this point."
He chuckles, the rich sound of it far too charming as he crouches beside me to accept a slightly battered jewelry box from my hands. "Hey now, don't sell yourself short, sis. One man's trash and all that, right?"
He winks, and just like that, my heart gives a telltale flutter against my ribs. Sis. He really is just being kind and welcoming me into their home. There's no hidden meaning there, no matter how much a small, shameful part of me wishes otherwise.
Nathan seems to misinterpret my flush, his expression sobering as he reaches out to give my arm a reassuring squeeze. "Really though, don't ever feel like you need to apologize for anything around me, okay? We're going to take good care of you here."
The earnest promise in those words bypasses all my defenses, sending a fresh wave of heat sweeping through me. He's so gentle and sincere, a sweet relief from Drew's gruff edges.
And by watching the way his hand engulfs my arm, the sheer size and strength of him, it's not difficult to imagine just how thoroughly he could take care of a woman.
Against my will, a vivid mental picture flashes in my mind of Nathan hovering over me, big and powerful and radiating that same fierce protectiveness. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, willing the thought away roughly. Now is not the time for those kinds of lurid fantasies.
Clearing my throat, I carefully extract my arm from his hold and refocus my attention on emptying the rest of the box. We work in companionable quiet for a while, the only sounds in the room caused by our movements and the occasional rustle of fabric.
It's during one of these pockets of silence that I remember the notes I've been keeping.
"Oh! That reminds me," I say suddenly, turning to dig through my purse on the dresser and retrieving a small notebook. "I wanted to let you and Drew know about some of my initial thoughts on the kids."
Nathan glances over at me, one eyebrow raised in silence, prompting me to continue. I crack open the notebook, thumbing through pages full of my looping scribbles.
"So, from my observations so far, I think Bella could really use a boost of confidence and a chance to explore her personal interests beyond just schoolwork," I explain, reading through my notes. "She seems like such a bright, sensitive girl, but she's shutting herself off from the world."
Nathan hums thoughtfully, nodding along as he listens. "You're not wrong. Bella used to be so vibrant as a kid, always giggling and enthusiastic about everything. But somewhere along the way..." He sighs, scrubbing a hand through his tousled auburn hair. "She started withdrawing into herself more and more."
"Well, that's what I'm here for," I say firmly, feeling a surge of determination. "To help bring that light back out in both her and Jason."
At the mention of Drew's son, Nathan's expression turns rueful. "Jason is another puzzle entirely. Kid's been quiet as a mouse ever since…well, ever since his mom took off."
My heart clenches at the sorrow in his words. The poor boy. No wonder he's so solemn and withdrawn. Losing a parent like that would be devastating at any age, but at such a tender age as nine? I can't even imagine the depths of that wound.
"We've gotta fix that," I murmur, more to myself than Nathan as I jot down a few more notes about engaging Jason more, trying to coax him out of his shell. "For both of them, really. They can't keep going on like this."
"I knew you'd get it," Nathan says warmly. There's a fierce sense of pride in his eyes as he watches me scribble, like a doting older brother observing his brilliant younger sibling. The look catches me off guard, stealing my breath.
I quickly refocus on the notebook, flipping to a fresh page as I search for a way to change the subject before I embarrass myself again.
"Oh, and here—for Bella specifically, I had an idea that we could take her shopping soon. Get her interested in fashion, makeup, that sort of thing. It could really help her start blossoming into her own unique style and give her a confidence boost, you know?"
Nathan scratches at the stubble along his strong jaw, looking contemplative. "That could work. Though I have a feeling Drew might not be too crazy about the idea of his little girl getting all made up and girly."
I snort, rolling my eyes good-naturedly. "What? Is he afraid she'll suddenly start noticing boys and the world will end?"
The words are out before I can think better of them, colored by years of wry observances of the overprotective dads who used to hover when I babysat as a teenager.
I flush, afraid I've overstepped—but Nathan merely throws back his head and laughs, a deep belly laugh that erases years from his face. Crinkles appear at the corners of those beautiful eyes, striking smile lines etching across sun-bronzed skin.
In that moment, he's breathtaking. And dangerous in an entirely different way as an unmistakable flare of wanting tightens low in my belly.
"You've got his number, that's for sure," Nathan manages after his laughter subsides to intermittent chuckles. "Drew's so worried about Bella growing up that I'm pretty sure he'd lock her in a tower forever if he could."
He sobers then, giving me an approving nod. "But you're right. As scary as it might seem for him, she needs experiences like that to really start coming into her own. We can't shelter them forever."
"Exactly!" I agree emphatically, feeling gratified to have an ally in Nathan. I start to say more, but the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway cuts me off.
A moment later, Drew appears in the open doorway of my bedroom, eyes narrowing infinitesimally as he takes in the scene of Nathan and I sitting close on the bed. For his part, Nathan doesn't seem the least bit fazed by his brother's gruff presence, merely offering him a lazy smile in greeting.
"There you are," Drew rumbles, his tone low and vaguely accusing in a way that instantly puts me on the defensive. "Everything all right in here?"
"Everything's great," Nathan assures him easily. He glances at me conspiratorially. "Nancy was just telling me about some of her plans for you know who."
Drew's intense gaze swings to pin me in place, that stormy expression transmuting to wary curiosity. "Her plans?"
I do my best not to squirm under the scrutiny of those liquid brown eyes. Bolstered by Nathan's support, I square my shoulders and meet Drew's stare head-on.
"Yes, my plans," I affirm briskly. "I think getting Bella involved in exploring her interests is crucial right now. Things like fashion, makeup, and expressing herself through her own personal style."
I pause, searching Drew's impassive face for any reaction. When he simply continues scowling, arms crossed over that intimidatingly broad chest, I push onward.
"I think it could really help build her confidence and give her an outlet beyond just academics," I continue. "She's at such a pivotal age—this is when she should be discovering who she is as a young woman, not just shutting herself off from the world."
A muscle ticks in Drew's clenched jaw as I speak. I can practically see the objections forming behind those hooded eyes of his. Sure enough, when I finish, he shakes his head once in a curt negative.
"Absolutely not," he growls. "She's too young for all that makeup and boy-crazy stuff. I won't have her growing up too fast."
He turns around to leave without giving me a chance to protest his statement, and I feel like I’ve just been slapped on the cheek. Oh, no you don’t.
“That’s the wrong way to look at things,” I call from behind Drew, following him back down to the living room.
He settles into the couch and turns on the TV, effectively ignoring me. The gesture riles me up more than it has any right to, and I walk around to stand beside him, clenching my hands by my side so tightly that my nails dig into the meat of my palm.
“Drew? I’m sorry, but I think this is important,” I try again, pushing down my annoyance and irritation. “You wanted me to help these children. It would be nice if you allowed me try to do that and trust that I know what I’m doing.”
He looks up from the TV at me and grunts. “And I tell you once again. I know what’s best for my children.”
That’s it . “Well, if you have it all figured out, then perhaps you don’t need my help after all. You could just take on the job of being their full-time nanny.”
The words are out of my mouth before I know it, and Drew turns his head sharply to me, a deep frown on his face. He gets up to his feet and stands mere inches away from me, his entire countenance terrifying. “What did you just say?”
Great job, Nance. What a way to kick off your first day on the job .