Cam
TWO
Jack's hand was hot as if he’d been eating a muffin fresh from the oven.
But he didn’t appear to be ill, and he was grinning at me. Ledger had to have it under control, unless this was part of the test.
Bea led the way as if she’d given this tour before, which maybe she had. Isla was on one side of me with Jack on the other. I assumed they were taking me to Ledger and were already assigning me mental checks in a pros-and-cons column.
The bungalow was bigger than it looked from the outside. The hallway was wide and the ceilings were higher than I expected from a single-story building. Whoever had designed or renovated this place had understood light, which was more than most people with this kind of money did.
“This is the playroom.” Bea opened a door. “It’s where we spend a lot of time.”
The room had one wall of built-in shelving which was jam-packed with books, and there was a violin case propped against the wall.
“Who plays?” I pointed at the instrument case.
“Me.”
It was Bea who answered, but I was staring out the sliding glass doors that led into an inner courtyard.
It was encased on all sides by the bungalow’s wings and open to the sky.
Plants that enjoyed heat and humidity dotted the space, and the tinkling of water in one corner came from a small fountain.
There was a table and chairs shaded by an umbrella and a couch nestled in between ferns and jasmine bushes.
Bean bags were piled on top of one another in a corner sheltered from the sun and rain.
I imagined working in this space when the light began to fade in late afternoon, but that wasn’t happening because this family already had a manny.
“Look at me, Cam.”
Jack was balanced on the back of the playroom sofa, and he pressed a button on his wings, making them flap. With his face creased in a huge grin, he leaped off. I wasn’t quick enough to catch him, and he thunked onto the floor.
He rubbed his head and grinned as I helped him up. “When I get my real ones, I won’t fall.”
“Jack.” I swiveled my head at Bea’s stern voice. She was holding three bracelets, and she put one on her little brother and gave another to Isla before fastening the last one on her own wrist.
“You’re early.” Isla pointed to a clock on the wall. “Our dad will be here soon.”
I made a mental note to have a word with Ledger or whoever was in charge about who they buzzed through the gate. Being sized up by the children was awkward, but it was my understanding that Ledger was the manny, not their father.
“So Ledger’s your dad?”
“No.” Jack shook his head.
Okay, so he was who I thought he was. But where was he? “Ledger’s your manny, right?”
“No.” Isla plonked herself on the couch.
So who the heck was Ledger? And I was about to meet their father whose name I didn’t know.
“Are you Ledger’s friend?” Jack was examining one of his damaged wings and was about to fly off the back of the sofa again, but I coaxed him down.
“No.” I couldn’t say I was when I’d never met the guy.
The kids looked at one another.
“Ledger doesn’t live with us,” Isla announced.
Now I was really confused. He wasn’t their father or their manny. He didn’t live here, so what was going on? I thought back to the address Meara had given me. Was I in the wrong house? Maybe, but the kids did know Ledger, so the man existed.
I gasped. Oh no, the poor darlings. Perhaps Ledger was their dad but he and his husband were divorced and he didn’t have custody? I was tempted to gather the kids around me and give them a hug because that was hard. I had firsthand experience of being shuttled between two homes
“I’m so sorry.”
“Why?” Bea arched her brow.
Ummm, why had I said that? It was instinct, but now I’d inserted myself into their family dynamics.
“Well, ummm, it must be difficult not having him here.”
“Not really. Why are you asking about Ledger?”
Perhaps Ledger was a deadbeat dad, but then why had Meara sent me to talk to him, saying he was the manny? Unless that was his job but for another family.
“Meara sent me here to speak to him.”
Bea shrugged. “I don’t know who that is. Is she from the agency?”
“Yes! Finally we’re getting somewhere! Woo-hoo!” I clapped and jumped up and down but froze when three pairs of eyes were directed at me, probably because of my over-the-top response.
“Ummm, I’d better call Meara.”
“Why?” Isla collapsed on the sofa and picked up a sketch pad with a half-finished drawing of a dragon on the first page. She ran her finger over the sharp spikes, saying they didn’t look right.
Jack attempted to take the pad, but his sister yanked it back. “You said you’d draw Daddy’s dragon.” He pushed out his bottom lip. “But you didn’t.”
“Jack.” The little boy’s head jerked up at his sister’s tone. “Not in front of the manny.”
Daddy’s dragon. What was he talking about? I ran over the possibilities. Oh, they must have a pet lizard or something. Maybe it was in the courtyard. I wasn’t a fan of creepy crawlies, but this wasn’t where I’d be living.
“I can give some tips on how to use shading to complete the sketch.”
“Really?” Isla patted the sofa. “That’s so cool.”
I sat beside her and got up again. What was I doing?
This facade had gone on long enough. I was in a stranger’s home with their young children, and I had to clear up the confusion.
But a door at the back of the house opened and a husky voice called out that the manny had postponed their interview and they’d be here tomorrow.
Three heads swiveled toward me. Hey, this wasn’t my fault. Okay, maybe it was because I’d come to the wrong house. I wanted to blame Meara and her lousy handwriting, but that wasn’t going to get me out of this awkward situation.
An alpha in his late thirties with a salt-and-pepper beard strolled into the room, and I gulped.
Not because I shouldn’t have been here—though I shouldn’t have—but because this man took my breath away.
No, he really did. I put a hand to my chest and begged my lungs to keep working.
My thoughts were zigging and zagging as his expression reminded me of Isla’s dragon sketch.
I braced myself for the questions, the uproar, and a possible call to the police. Meara would get an earful. Curling myself up to make myself as small as possible, I whispered, “Sorry, I’m apparently in the wrong house.”
The alpha’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared, again looking similar to his daughter’s drawing. He extended his arms and pushed the children behind him as fury blazed in his eyes and they changed color. I squinted, imagining flames replacing his irises.
But as I put my hands up in surrender and whispered that I wasn’t crazy or a burglar or a kidnapper, he took a breath and his expression changed. His furrowed brow relaxed, the tension left his shoulders, and he got this goofy look on his face.
“You.”
How he said it didn’t sound like an accusation, and he wasn’t calling 911, though he looked like he could tackle me.
If we’d met somewhere else in different circumstances, I wouldn’t have minded a tackle and a romp and much more.
But I’d spent time alone with this man’s children, and he had every right to be furious.
I backed away, trying to remember the way out. “I’m so sorry. I was looking for Ledger. Meara sent me.”
“You’re our manny.”
“I’m a potential manny, but I’m supposed to talk to Ledger about what the job entails.” I was feeling for the doorway and remembering which way to turn in the corridor. “But I got the wrong house, I guess.”
“No, I think you’re our manny.”
The alpha walked toward me and sweat dribbled down my spine and into my briefs. In my dreams, I’d imagined being claimed by a tall handsome stranger but trespassing into his house wasn’t included.
Then I banged into something. “Owww. Owww.” I twisted around and fell over a footstool. My face connected with the floor, but the carpet broke my fall. I lay where I was because it was better than the alternative.
“How can he be our manny?” Bea questioned her father.
“His name is Cam.” Jack’s voice was accompanied by the flapping of his toy wings.
“He can teach me to draw,” Isla chimed in.
Warm hands that were a similar temperature to Jack’s hoisted me off the floor and dropped me on the couch.
He examined my ankle, saying I’d have a nasty bruise but it wasn’t broken.
Damn, why couldn’t I have suffered a serious injury and I’d have to stay here and recuperate.
Not that that was a thing. Trespassers didn’t get to lodge in their prey’s home.
“Price.”
He wanted me to pay for my mistake? “I… I don’t have any money.”
“I’m Price, and we have just found our new manny.”