Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
ROWAN
I pull my van in front of Hayden’s house and stare at it for a beat longer than necessary before killing the engine.
Unlike last night, the cul-de-sac is a beehive of activity, even before seven in the morning.
A woman power-walks with a golden retriever wearing a bandana. A guy in workout clothes stretches before jogging down the street. Two houses down, a man slips out of the front door and into his truck with the name of a construction company on it, obviously on his way to work.
And then there’s me.
My van is definitely out of place among all the manicured lawns and curated perfection.
But I don’t care.
Let them stare. If I worried what strangers thought about me, I never would have traded my office for a van in the first place. I would have been stuck watching my life slip by until I retired.
No thank you.
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I jump out of the van and make my way up the driveway. Unlike last night, Hayden’s house is quiet as I approach.
No smoke alarm screaming for mercy.
No toddler wails rattling the windows.
No frustrated shouts.
Just…calm.
I lift my hand to ring the doorbell, but the door opens before I have a chance.
Hayden appears in pajama pants and a plain white T-shirt, his dark hair rumpled from sleep.
For a moment, I forget how to speak.
Somehow, he looks even sexier than he did in the gray sweatpants. Less guarded. Less armored. More…human.
“Jemmy’s still sleeping,” he explains quietly, stepping aside to allow me to enter. “Didn’t want the doorbell to wake him.”
“What time does he start to stir?” I whisper back, following him into the kitchen after sliding off my sneakers.
“Usually between seven and seven-thirty. So anytime now.”
“And Presley?”
“She likes to get up early on school days to draw before breakfast. She’s pretty good at entertaining herself, though.”
As if summoned by her name, Presley pads into the kitchen, carrying a sketchpad. Her eyes light up when she sees me.
“Morning, Presley,” I say softly.
She smiles in greeting.
“What would you like for breakfast?” I ask. “I can make anything you want. Pancakes?”
She nods enthusiastically.
“Plain?” I offer.
She scowls.
“Okay. Definitely not plain. Blueberry?”
She scrunches her nose in disgust.
“Chocolate chip?”
Her expression brightens.
“Chocolate chip pancakes it is,” I declare.
“Why don’t I show you where you’ll be staying before you get started?” Hayden interjects before shifting his attention toward Presley. “Five more minutes, okay?”
She nods and slides into her chair, already flipping open her sketchpad.
He gives me a quick tour of the bedrooms, playroom, and living spaces before leading me down a hallway off the living room that’s secluded from the rest of the house.
“This is your space,” he states, leading me into a small living area with a couch and two chairs.
It’s a little drab and boring, but nothing a few accent pillows and art pieces can’t fix. Even better, there’s a kitchenette. To most it would seem small, but for someone who’s used to cooking on a hot plate, this is like heaven.
And there’s a separate bedroom with a queen-sized bed that doesn’t need to be folded into a bench seat every day.
“If there’s anything you need, just let me know,” he offers.
“I’ve been living in a van for months. This is like a five-star hotel.”
“Right,” he says, like he’s still trying to wrap his head around my unusual living arrangement. “What made—”
The sound of Jemmy’s babbling from the baby monitor in his hand cuts him off.
Hayden glances down at it. Jemmy is sitting up in his crib, flipping through a book as he babbles, as if he’s reading to himself.
I pick up a few words, like moon and brush.
“I’ll grab him.” Hayden spins on his heels and stalks down the hallway.
I catch up to him, almost having to jog, and reach him as he’s about to head up the stairs, taking the monitor from him. “I can take care of it, then make breakfast for him and Presley.”
“I don’t mind. I—”
“I’m here to lighten your load. So go get ready for your day.”
He hesitates. “He’s still in diapers.”
“I noticed.”
“Do you know how to change a diaper? I guess I should have asked last night, but I was a bit…frazzled.”
“It’s been a few years since I’ve had to, but unless they’ve changed the design in that time, I’m all set.”
“Are you sure? I—”
“Go. Shower. Otherwise, you’ll be late and take it out on yet another unsuspecting dog walker.”
He exhales, half-laughing. “I’m sorry about—”
“Go,” I repeat, pushing past him and moving toward Jemmy’s room, opening the door before he can stop me.
The instant I appear, Jemmy beams.
“Dino!” he exclaims as he stands in his crib.
“Is that today’s agenda?” I lift him and carry him toward the changing table, setting him on the pad. “Dinosaurs all day?”
He roars.
“Excellent,” I say solemnly. “I accept these terms.”
I open the top drawer and find rows of perfectly arranged diapers. The sections are even labeled “day” and “night”.
I grab one and put it to the side before unzipping Jemmy’s pajamas. As I remove the diaper and wipe his bottom, I notice Hayden lingering in the doorway.
“I’ve got this,” I tell him.
He nods, watching for another second, then finally leaves.
“I’m guessing Daddy has control issues,” I whisper to Jemmy.
He roars again.
“Exactly.”
By the time Hayden comes back downstairs, now dressed in a suit, both kids are eating, Jemmy some oatmeal and Presley pancakes with a side of fruit.
“Wow,” he says, stopping short in the doorway.
“What? Didn’t think I could handle breakfast?”
“They can be a lot.”
“Kids feed off the energy in the room,” I tell him. “If you’re calm, they’re calm. If you’re tense, they feel it.”
He studies me like I just handed him a missing puzzle piece. Then he places a stack of papers in front of me.
“What’s this? An onboarding manual?” I joke, although that’s exactly what it looks like.
“Just important things I’d like you to be aware of as far as the kids are concerned.
Most of the time, you’ll only be with Jemmy since Presley’s in school.
I drop her off on my way in and either my brother, Beckham, or sister-in-law, Haley, will drop her off after school. Sometimes my mom if they’re busy.”
“I don’t mind picking her up.”
Hayden shakes his head. “It’s during Jemmy’s nap time. Plus we have a system worked out. I drop off and they pick up, since their daughter goes to the same school.”
“Well, if you ever need me to do drop off, I can.”
“We’ll see how things go first before adding to your responsibilities.”
I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes. Yup. Definitely a man with control issues. This extensive manual of his kid’s schedule, permitted snacks, and dozens of emergency phone numbers proves it.
“Jemmy gets a snack at around ten, then lunch at noon. He takes one nap a day. I’d like him to be asleep by two at the latest, so after lunch I’d prefer only calm play. No dinosaurs or army men.”
“Should I teach him to meditate?”
“Meditate?” He scrunches his brows. “He’s only…” He pushes out a breath. “That was a joke, wasn’t it?”
I give him a reassuring smile. “Relax. I know how to take care of kids.”
“This nap is important. If he’s too wound up, he’ll fight it. Then he’ll be exhausted and will fall asleep too early and will wake up at three or four in the morning, so—”
I cut him off with a hand to his forearm. The second I touch him, he darts his eyes toward my hand. He’s practically a stranger, but I can’t ignore the subtle buzzing beneath my palm.
The slight flutter in my heart.
“I’ve got it.” I slowly remove my hand. “Now what would you like for breakfast?”
He straightens, obviously taken aback by my question. “Your job is to take care of my kids. Not me.”
“Trust me. This is part of it. By taking this task off your plate, it allows you to spend some time with them.” I point to a chair at the table in the breakfast nook. “Now sit.”
At first, he doesn’t move, as if wanting to argue with me.
But it’s an argument he won’t win. I won’t let him.
It’s obvious this man’s been running on empty for quite a while.
It makes me curious about his story. What happened to the mother of his kids?
Did she walk out on them? Or is it something worse?
I sense it’s the latter.
I walk over to a bowl on the counter and grab an avocado, feeling it for ripeness. “How does some avocado toast sound?”
“Better than what I’d make for myself.”
“I’m guessing that’s usually nothing?” I ask as I slice into the avocado and take out the pit.
“Unless Dylan stops by in the morning. She makes sure I eat. Mom, too. It’s not that I can’t cook. I can, despite what you witnessed last night. But lately I’m just…”
“It’s okay. I quite enjoy cooking. It’s…therapeutic. And after having to cook on a hot plate and in a space no bigger than a closet, it’s nice to be in a regular kitchen. And yours is beautiful.”
“Well, feel free to use it anytime you want.”
I look up to find him studying me with intensity. As if I’m a puzzle he’s desperately trying to put together. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
I slice the avocado and a tomato. Once the toast pops, I arrange the slices on top before sprinkling on some feta cheese.
“Thank you,” he says quietly as I place his breakfast in front of him, his eyes locking with mine. “I mean it.”
“You’re welcome.” I hold his gaze for a beat, then head back toward the island to tidy up.
As I wipe down the counters, I watch him with his kids. He seems awkward and unsure. Almost like he doesn’t know how to talk to or be around them. As if he’s not used to spending time with them like this.
When was the last time he was able to just enjoy his kids instead of rushing to feed, bathe, and get them ready for bed? Probably a while.
Hopefully, by my being here, he’ll finally have a chance to spend some quality time with his kids and get to know them.
And for them to get to know him, too.
“If anything comes up, be sure to call me,” Hayden instructs after breakfast as I follow him and Presley toward the front door while still keeping an eye on Jemmy, who’s currently building a castle out of blocks in the living room.
“If I don’t answer, call the front desk number.
I also left that in the instructions. Tell them who you are and someone will come get me.
But if it’s an emergency, call 911 first.”
“Really?” I feign surprise mixed with confusion. “Is that what I should do?”
I can sense his frustration with me, but he needs to relax.
“Jemmy likes to get into trouble.”
“He’s just exploring his world.” I look back at Jemmy as he holds a block in front of his eyes, examining it with the intensity of an archeologist who has just uncovered a hidden artifact from centuries ago.
“You still need to keep a close eye on him. He likes to put Barbie shoes up his nose. And everything goes in his mouth, so you have to be careful to make sure he doesn’t choke on anything.
” His eyes widen. “Wait. You know first aid, right? What to do if he’s choking?
You could probably manage to keep toys out of his mouth, but he sometimes chokes on his food. Maybe I—”
“Relax,” I say, touching his arm again.
And again, that same sizzle of awareness courses through me from the contact.
I slowly withdraw my hand. “I’m certified in first aid and CPR. I’ve got this.”
He glances between me and Jemmy, uncertain. I can sense how difficult this is for him.
Normally, I wouldn’t waste my time working for someone who questioned my ability to perform the tasks I’m more than capable of. I experienced enough of that in my old life, and I vowed never to make myself small for anyone else ever again.
But this feels…different.
As crazy as it sounds, maybe there’s a reason the universe dropped this opportunity in my lap when I was moments away from leaving this small town in search of my next adventure.
“Go,” I tell Hayden. “You have my number. Call and check in anytime you need.”
He hesitates before pushing out a long breath. “I’ll be home around six. And Presley will be dropped off a little after three.”
“I’ve got it,” I say for what feels like the hundredth time this morning.
But it’s obvious he questions whether that’s true.
Finally, he ushers Presley out of the house, closing the door behind him.
It doesn’t escape my notice he never gave Jemmy a hug or kiss goodbye.