Chapter 4
Tate
It’s been three days since Lucy Adler has moved into our home, and I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve spoken with her.
It wasn’t on purpose at first. Truly. Mom had taken over in showing her Fern’s routine, which made more sense since she’s been the one mainly in charge of Fern for her three whole years of life.
I’d offered Lucy a day or two to get her belongings together before settling in, and she’d said she didn’t need it. I’d thought it was odd at first, but she said she was from out of town. Washington state. So I’m assuming her things will be shipped here eventually.
On her first full day of work, I’d checked in on her and Fern during the day.
I just wanted to observe them together. I’d walked in on the both of them playing dress up, Fern applying glittering eyeshadow to Lucy’s face.
She’d smiled shyly when I’d entered, and again I felt bad about my gruff behavior toward her in the interview.
But more overwhelming than my guilt was a new sensation.
One I’d felt upon initially setting eyes on Lucy but had quickly resolved.
Attraction.
Sitting there dressed in a purple tutu and a plastic crown while my daughter applied terribly colorful makeup to her face, I had to muster all the self-control I could to keep my jaw from unhinging.
That’s when I’d decided to keep my distance. Maybe gruff, unapproachable Tate is the best version of myself to project to her. Because that feeling of attraction? It’s inappropriate. And not that I’m unable to control myself—it’s just that I’d rather avoid the whole thing.
So I’ve decided that I’ll interact with Lucy Adler as little as possible.
Friday was her first full day of nanny duties, Saturday she’d spent most of the day in town, and today I haven’t seen much of her. Her old, beat-up SUV is here, so I assume she must just be holed up in her room.
I enter the kitchen, Fern up in my arms, to the smell of cooking.
Lasagna, if I had to guess. It’s one of Mom’s Sunday dinner staples.
Sunday night family dinners became a mandatory way for the family to keep up and stay connected once my brothers and I grew up and started our own lives.
Besides, Mom has always loved to cook, and this is a great excuse for her to try out a new fancy recipe from time to time.
Mom looks over her shoulder and smiles at me.
“Levi is bringing some fresh sourdough,” she informs me.
My oldest brother, Levi, has a house on the property and also works with me on the ranch.
His work is a bit less physical than mine, though—he mostly manages the transportation side of our cattle business.
And in the last few months, he’s taken up the odd hobby of baking bread.
Can’t say I mind it. It means random loaves of freshly baked bread dropped off at the house often.
Maybe too often. I’m worried I might be gaining a bit of weight.
I hear the sound of the door opening and turn to see my younger brother, Jack, and his fiancé, Willow, entering the house.
Fern squirms in my arms, and I set her down, smiling as she rushes across the room to embrace first Willow, and then Jack, accompanied by Danny who jumps and barks at the excitement.
Up until just a few months ago, Jack was living in Seattle working at some fancy financial corporation.
But once Dad died, he came home to take over all the financial operations of the ranch.
He’d reconnected with his high school girlfriend, Willow, and within a month of being back, they were engaged.
Now, the two of them are living in an old hunting cabin on the property while they make plans to build a proper home.
My youngest brother, Reese, is rarely in Montana. He recently finished a graduate program in California and has been jet setting ever since. I think he might be in Asia right now? Thailand? Who knows? I can never keep track of the kid.
Jack crosses the room while Fern clings to Willow, telling her all about her day. “Mom says you finally found a nanny for Fern,” he says.
I nod, my hands stuffed in my pockets.
Jack’s eyebrows scrunch. “You seem … unimpressed.”
I sigh, shaking my head. “No, god. No, she’s great. Fern loves her. I mean, she’s only been here a few days …” Jesus, I need to get myself together. Just because I’m trying to keep my distance from Lucy doesn’t mean I need to be displaying this aura of discontent.
Jack nods, still looking perplexed. “Okay,” he says slowly. “Where is she?” He glances around.
“Uh, I don’t—probably in her room,” I stammer.
“That’s right!” Mom pipes in from the kitchen. “I haven’t seen much of Lucy today. Tate, go get her and tell her she’s welcome to join us for dinner.”
My gaze flicks to Mom, then to Jack, then to Fern, whose ears have perked up at the mention of Lucy’s name. “Sure,” I say, quickly walking off. It’s the only thing I can say. It’s not like I can refuse.
And suddenly I feel like the biggest jerk in the world. Not wanting Fern’s nanny to join us for Sunday dinner? Fucking prick is what I am. She’s new to town and doesn’t know anyone. Of course she should have dinner with us. I shake my head as I make my way down the long hallway toward Lucy’s room.
When I reach it, I hesitate. Some feeling akin to nervous butterflies appears in my stomach, but I’m too annoyed by it to actually name it.
I force my hand up to gently knock on the wood.
A few moments later, the door opens slightly, and there’s Lucy—dressed in dark gray leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. That feeling in my stomach increases, and I swallow.
Lucy meets my gaze, and a question appears there.
“Do you want to join us for dinner?” I ask quickly. “It’s a Sunday tradition. My brothers will be here. And Jack’s fiancé. She’s sweet. You’ll like her. We’re having lasagna, I think.” I realize I’m rambling, so I shut my mouth.
The corners of Lucy’s mouth upturn slightly. “Sure,” she says. “Lasagna sounds great.” A flicker of hesitation flashes across her face, and she looks down at her outfit. “Is this … okay?”
A genuine laugh bubbles out of me. “That’s fine,” I assure her. “Half the time, I’m covered in mud and cow shit.”
She giggles. “I bet your mom loves that.”
And Jesus Christ, my stomach summersaults.
Fuck.
I take a step back, awkwardly inclining my head down the hallway.
I start toward the kitchen and don’t look back, Lucy’s quiet steps behind me the only indication that she’s following.
When we get to the open-concept kitchen and living area, everyone in the room turns.
I see Levi has arrived, a loaf of bread in hand.
“Everyone, this is Lucy Adler, Fern’s new nanny,” I introduce.
Lucy gives a shy smile and a wave.
I let my siblings descend upon her with greetings as I slink into the kitchen to help Mom, even though I know she has everything under control.
I do my usual cursory glance for Fern, making sure she hasn’t gotten into anything, only to find her glued to Lucy’s side, her tiny hand wrapped around hers.
The sight does nothing to help the butterflies in my stomach I’m desperately trying to reign in.
“What are your first impressions?” Mom’s quiet voice catches me off guard and pulls me back to reality.
I turn toward her. “What?”
“About Lucy?” she clarifies, glancing past me at Lucy surrounded by my family.
“Uh, she seems … nice. Fern likes her.”
Mom hums in agreement. “Fern loves her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her take to someone so quickly.”
It’s true. Fern can be quite shy around strangers, but with Lucy, it’s like she’s been a part of the family for years.
“Slightly concerned that she didn’t have a ton of experience,” I say quietly.
Mom rolls her eyes, checking the timer on the oven. “She’s great with kids, what more do you want? She’s sweet, fun, and Fern loves her. In my book, she’s perfect.”
I purse my lips. She could be a little less …
fucking adorable. Then I wouldn’t have to be overthinking every move I make, utterly distracted by everything about her.
I hope to God this wears off. It’s probably just because I haven’t been laid in a while.
Haven’t dated in a while. That must be it, I decide. So it’ll fade eventually.
“Looks like dinner’s ready!” Mom says, loudly this time so that everyone can hear. I help Mom plate the food and start setting it all on the table as everyone takes their seats.
“Fern,” I call over my shoulder while dishing her a small serving of lasagna. “Do you want juice with dinner?” When she doesn’t respond, I look to the table to see her seated squarely in Lucy’s lap, playing with a napkin.
I approach the table, setting her dish down in the vacant seat next to mine. “Sweetheart, let Lucy eat. Come sit next to me,” I coax.
“No!” Fern squeals.
“It’s okay,” Lucy assures me over her head. “I don’t mind.” She gives Fern a quick, little squeeze—a squeeze that goes directly to my heart.
Fuck.
I nod, moving the plate across the table to where Lucy is sitting. “I’ll grab you one as well,” I say, quickly heading back to the kitchen. I place Lucy’s food down in front of her without making eye contact, giving a curt, “Mhm,” in response to her thanks.
Once everyone is settled, I keep glancing across the table at Fern while we eat.
She’s mostly playing with her napkin, but Lucy’s able to coax a few bites out of her now and then.
It’s surprising to me that this is her natural instinct.
Most non-parents would simply let the kid vibe in their lap and not pay attention to whether they were eating or not.
“What do you think, Tate?”
“Hm?” I snap my head up. “What?”
“About the building plans?” Jack says. “Were you able to look over the blueprints we sent?”
The blueprints. For Jack and Willow’s house they’re planning to build on the property. “Oh. Yeah. It looks great. Similar layout to Levi’s place,” I say.
“That’s what I thought,” Willow agrees. “And I love Levi’s house.”
“Excited to live in a real house finally?” Levi asks with a laugh.
Jack rolls his eyes. While the hunting cabin Jack and Willow are living in is nice enough, they’re probably itching to get into a real place. Not to mention their forever home. A place where they can plant roots.
“Yeah,” Willow answers for him. “I feel like Jack and I are constantly tripping over each other.”
“Which isn’t always a bad thing,” Jack adds, to which Willow playfully slaps him in the arm.
The chatter continues about Jack and Willow’s house plans, then drifts into wedding planning, the coming summer, and just life in general. Dinner dishes are cleared away, replaced by drinks—some alcoholic and some just tea.
Willow and Lucy seem to be hitting it off, chatting about everything from clothes, to work, to television shows.
I’m glad. Lucy has seemed a little … lost since meeting her.
I don’t know what it is. Obviously she’s new in town, but it feels like something deeper.
But maybe she’s just shy and I’m assuming too much.
It doesn’t help that I was a bit of an ass to her. Maybe she’s just weird around me.
“Well, I think it’s time we head out,” Jack says, standing from the table.
“Yeah, me too. Have an early day tomorrow,” Levi agrees.
Jack, Levi, and Willow say their goodbyes, thanking Mom for dinner and telling Lucy it was good to meet her. I see her and Willow exchange numbers, and it’s then that I notice Fern asleep on Lucy’s lap, her arms wrapped around her neck, her head on her shoulder.
Mom walks everyone to the door, leaving Lucy and I alone at the dinner table. She glances at me with an awkward smile, inclining her head toward the sleeping Fern.
And dammit if that isn’t the most adorable sight I’ve seen in a long, long time.
I chuckle, standing and approaching her.
“I can take her,” I say, reaching for Fern.
But it’s awkward to take a sleeping child from someone’s arms without, well, being really, really close to them.
My arm brushes against her stomach as I try to get ahold of Fern, and our faces are barely inches apart.
I can feel a flush creeping up my cheeks, and I’m definitely not breathing at all.
Fern struggles, mumbling something grumpily and turning away from me, clinging harder to Lucy.
She laughs softly. “It’s okay. I can carry her to her room.”
“Are you sure?” I ask.
She nods, wrapping her arms protectively around Fern and standing up. I step back, giving her room, and then follow behind her as she makes her way to Fern’s room. It’s down the same hallway as her room and mine, only much closer to the living area.
I reach over her shoulder to push open the door for her, and then I flip on the nightlight once we enter.
I watch as Lucy carries Fern to her bed in the corner, setting her down gently and then pulling the covers up to her chin. Fern mumbles something softly, but Lucy strokes her forehead and Fern quiets down.
Something tightens inside my chest—something hot, constricting, not letting me go. Watching Lucy tuck the covers in around Fern’s small body, the way she handles her with such care—God, this is what life is supposed to be like. Putting your child to bed with a partner. With a beautiful woman.
The thought strikes me so violently, that I physically turn away, unable to watch any more.
I stiffly walk to the door, waiting in the hallway while Lucy finishes up and then follows, shutting the door quietly behind her. She glances at me shyly—in that same semi-fearful way she’s approached me ever since her interview.
Part of me really wants to fix that. To put her mind at ease, apologize for my behavior at the time. But another part—a stronger part—stops me.
“Thanks for your help with Fern tonight,” I manage to say.
She nods with a purse-lipped smile. “Of course.”
“Goodnight,” I say gruffly, crossing the hallway to my bedroom door across from Fern’s. It’s only until I’m safely locked in my room that I let my composure fall. Sitting on my bed with a sigh, I lean my head back and glare up at the ceiling.
I’ve never been one to fall easily—or at all. But when it comes to Lucy Adler, I’m afraid I might be fucked.