Chapter 9
Roman
Ireturned to my parents’ house far later than I’d intended.
I paused at the front door, pulling out my phone to disarm the security system before stepping inside. A snowman—no, a snow woman—stood proudly in the front yard.
Palmer and Hailey must have played out in the snow while I was gone.
A pang twisted in my chest knowing I’d missed it, but beneath that was something else—a warm feeling I couldn’t quite place. I stared at the snow woman’s strategically placed twig-hair and the red coloring brushed across her cheeks and lips, and almost smiled.
I closed the door, eager to hear all about Hailey’s day.
But when I walked deeper into the house, the stillness around me was…unsettling.
It was later than I’d meant to be home, but Hailey had been having trouble falling asleep since everything happened. I’d expected her to tackle me the moment I stepped inside.
My heart rate spiked with anxiety.
I pulled out my phone and brought up the security camera feeds. I’d checked them sporadically throughout the day and hadn’t noticed anything unusual—but what if I’d missed something?
“Hailey,” I barked.
No reply.
I moved, checking every room on the main floor, even my parents’ bedroom. Nothing.
My pulse roared in my ears as I took the grand staircase two steps at a time, focusing on Hailey’s bedroom door down the hall. It was slightly ajar.
Her name stuck in my throat.
There was no sign of Palmer anywhere, and panic surged hard and fast. Had I made a mistake hiring her? Every worst-case scenario barreled through my mind as I reached the door and pushed it open.
Soft music drifted through the room. It was mostly dark, lit only by the faint glow of a rainbow nightlight.
Two figures were tangled together in the bed.
My chest loosened, and I took a full breath for the first time since I’d walked into the house.
Quietly, I crossed the room. Hailey lay asleep, curls splayed across her pillow, and her hand was curled tightly into Palmer’s sweater.
When I was sure my daughter was unharmed, my gaze shifted to Palmer.
Her eyes were closed, her breathing deep and even. One arm was wrapped around Hailey, her body curved protectively around my daughter.
She seemed…peaceful in sleep. I hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a heaviness in Palmer’s expression when she was awake—a tenseness that loosened only now.
That warmth in my chest resurfaced, but I ignored it.
Taking a steadying breath, I gently nudged her shoulder. Her name slipped out of my mouth in a low whisper. “Palmer.”
She flinched. Her body locked, eyes snapping open and darting around the room until they landed on me.
For a brief moment, she was all tension—then her face softened, relief flooding her features. She relaxed, and one corner of her mouth tipped upward.
“Welcome home,” she whispered.
There was so much sincerity in her voice that I didn’t know what to do with it. Her heavy-lidded eyes were sleepy and damn adorable. She shouldn’t look at me like that, like she’d been waiting all day for me to return. Like she was happy to see me.
She barely knew me.
Instinct kicked in. I shut down, clenching my jaw.
Her small smile faltered.
“You should go to your own room,” I said stiffly.
Her cheeks seemed to warm, though the dim light made it hard to tell.
Slowly—like she’d done it a thousand times before—she untangled herself without waking my daughter. She stood, straightened her long flowing skirt, and followed me out of the room.
When Hailey’s door clicked shut, Palmer looked up at me cautiously.
I regretted the earlier tension in my voice, but I couldn’t help it. Something about her made me feel off. Like the inside of my body was too hot.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
My stomach clenched—this time, not from nerves. I’d been so busy at the station, so consumed by organizing and catching up, that I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten.
At my silence, her smile returned.
“Come on.”
She passed me and headed downstairs. I followed her all the way into the kitchen, where she opened the fridge and pulled out a bowl.
“I hope you like stew.”
I perked up at that. I loved stew.
She peeled back the plastic wrap and popped it into the microwave.
“You can sit at the table,” Palmer said.
I did, if cautiously.
“You don’t have to cook us dinner,” I muttered, though I was deeply grateful.
She shrugged as she reached for a bread knife and pulled out a fresh loaf of bread from the breadbox.
“I don’t mind. I like cooking. Hailey helped, too.
Your mother’s kitchen is amazingly stocked.
She’s got all kinds of canned goods, and that freezer is full of meat and veggies. I had everything I needed.”
She buttered the bread and set the warmed bowl of stew in front of me.
“Thank you.” I inhaled the mouthwatering scent, stomach growling. “It looks delicious.”
She beamed. “I think I’d like some tea. Would you like some too?”
I hesitated—coffee was usually my preference—but I nodded.
As she started the kettle, I dug into the meal.
It was even better than it smelled, which was saying something.
There was no denying that I’d been spoiled with my mother, who was an excellent cook, but Palmer was just as amazing.
I finished the entire bowl and the bread by the time she set a steaming mug in front of me and sat across the table.
She lifted a brow at my empty dishes. “Would you like more?”
I wrapped my fingers around the mug, shaking my head.
She sipped her tea. “How was work?”
“Good.” I took a drink, almost burning my tongue. “Busy. I’m not usually this late.”
“That’s okay,” she replied. “Hailey and I had fun.”
I studied her. Loose tendrils of blonde hair had escaped her braid, falling over her face. Her cheeks were slightly chapped, as if she’d spent too much time out in the cold.
“How did Hailey go down?” I asked, wanting to distract myself from her.
“Oh.” She placed her mug on the table. “She did great. I put on one of her favorite musical soundtracks. She wanted her back scratched, and she fell asleep pretty quickly.”
The color in her cheeks darkened. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep with her.”
I watched her closely, surprised by how right this felt.
Palmer was easy to talk to, which was saying something because I often struggled with casual conversation. The day had seemed to go well, and I hadn’t expected to come home to a sleeping child and a warm, home-cooked meal.
It was almost too much.
I cleared my throat, gesturing vaguely between us. “We’ll need to work out a contract,” I said, changing the subject. “Hours. Pay. Expectations. I’m sorry I left you today without figuring out those details.”
“Of course.” Palmer nodded. “And it’s fine, really.”
There was a pause—one that stretched a tad too long.
“Can I ask…” She hesitated, fingers clutching her mug. “How long do you think you’ll need me?”
The question caught me off guard.
I opened my mouth, then shut it.
The truth was, I didn’t know. Though I hoped this would be temporary, hoped my parents would come home soon and things would settle, I had no set timeline for it.
“I’m not sure,” I said eventually. “Hopefully not long-term.”
The shift in her was subtle.
Her shoulders stiffened and her gaze dropped to the surface of her tea. She masked it quickly, though, smoothing her expression back into something calm and agreeable.
“Oh,” she said lightly. “That makes sense.”
“If that’s going to be an issue,” I added, more brusquely than I meant to, “I understand. Dependability matters in work. I don’t want to put you in a position that doesn’t suit you.”
She shrugged. “I want to help,” she said softly. “Even if it’s temporary.”
The words were steady. Sincere.
Yet, there was something heavy beneath them. I wasn’t sure what it was, but something inside her was hurting.
I watched her for a long moment, unease curling low in my gut.
It shouldn’t matter to me what that something was, though. Everyone had a past.
Palmer was going to be working for me. She was going to be my nanny. All that mattered was that she was good at her job and she had a clean background check.
Anything else was none of my business.
“Okay.” I drained the last of my tea and set it back down on the table a little too loudly. “Then we’ll continue with the contract and finalize our business arrangement first thing tomorrow.”