Runaway Love: A Single Dad Nanny Small Town Romance (Cherry Tree Harbor Book 1)

SHE WAS PRETTIER than I remembered, which was annoying as fuck and immediately put me in an even worse mood.

She was even prettier than she had been in my motorcycle fantasy. Maybe it was that she’d let her hair down—it was wavy and pale blond and looked soft as cornsilk. Maybe it was that she’d changed into shorts, putting her legs on display—she definitely had the limbs of a dancer. Maybe it was that she’d washed the makeup off her face, and her blue eyes seemed even more vulnerable. I could tell she’d been crying, and it weakened my defenses.

She caught me staring as we took seats across from each other at the dining table, and I quickly looked away. Owen was to my right, Adelaide across from him, and they resumed eating their dinner. Xander sat at their end of the table, tipping the legs back on the chair I’d made, even though I’d told him a million fucking times not to do that.

“Veronica, can I get you something?” Mabel asked from the kitchen, as if this was a social visit. “A glass of wine maybe?”

“No, thank you. I just need to charge my phone for a few minutes, and then I’ll be out of your way. I’m sure my friend in New York will send me train fare to get back to Chicago. I just need to call her.”

“I plugged it in, so it’s charging now,” Mabel said, taking a bottle of white wine from the fridge and pouring herself a glass. “But since it’s completely dead, I think you have time for one glass.”

“She already said no, Mabel. Leave it.” I glared at my sister, who stuck out her tongue at me.

Veronica spoke up. “Actually, a glass of wine sounds lovely. Thank you.”

When I looked at her, she met my eyes directly. A little defiantly.

Mabel came to the table with two full glasses of wine, setting one down in front of Veronica. “Here you go. Austin, can I get you a beer? Take the edge off that mood?”

“What mood?” I knew I was being a dick, but I couldn’t help it. Something about the woman sitting across from me had me tense as a tightrope. Maybe it was that mouth. Her lips looked puffy and inviting without the bright red color on them. Like a ripe peach.

“Maybe he’s hangry,” Xander suggested.

“Pasta is on the stove,” Mabel said. “Anyone is welcome to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” I snapped. What I wanted to taste were those lips.

“So Veronica, how long will you be in town?” Xander asked.

“I’m not exactly sure.” She fit the tips of her thumbnails together and stared at them. “My circumstances are a little . . . uncertain at the moment.”

“Where are you staying tonight?” Mabel asked.

“Um, that’s sort of up in the air too.” She took a sip of wine. “My ex-fiancé already cut me off. The inn where I was staying kicked me out. And my credit card has been frozen.”

Mabel’s jaw fell open. “Seriously? Your ex did all that already?”

“He’s good at getting what he wants right when he wants it.”

“Rich guys always are,” I muttered.

“This guy was rich?” Xander asked.

“A Vanderhoof,” I said.

“Oh.” Xander nodded. “Yeah, I know that family. Bunch of douchebags. They used to come into the restaurant at The Pier every summer and complain about everything—their table, the service, the food. They were shitty tippers too.”

“Veronica, do you have another credit card?” Mabel asked. “Or somewhere you can go tonight? What if you can’t get ahold of your friend?”

“I’ll figure it out,” said Veronica, picking up her wine glass again. “I can always just sleep at the train station.”

I knew what my sister was going to say before she said it.

“I think you should just stay here,” said Mabel, right on cue.

“No,” Veronica and I said at the same time.

Our eyes met once more. The air crackled with electricity.

Veronica looked away first, shifting her gaze to Mabel. “It’s very nice of you to offer, but I really can’t accept.”

“Sure, you can. You can sleep in the room over the garage. I’ll sleep in here on the couch.”

“I couldn’t take your room,” Veronica protested.

“I insist,” Mabel said, like the place was hers to rent out.

“You can always stay at Dad’s house, Mabel,” offered Xander. “Your old room is empty, and I’m sure Dad would love to have a little extra time with you before you leave for Virginia.”

I gave him a scathing look.

“Good idea, Xander! That’s what I’ll do. I’m not quite done packing yet,” Mabel said to Veronica, “but it won’t take me more than an hour. I’ll put new sheets on the bed, and then the room would be all yours—if you’re comfortable staying here, of course.”

Veronica shook her head. “I really can’t.”

“But then where—”

“She said she’s not comfortable with it, Mabel.” I gave my sister a look that said drop it.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Huh?” I squinted at Veronica.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t be comfortable with it,” she clarified. “I just don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re not a bother at all,” Mabel insisted. “In our family, we were taught to extend a welcome to everyone and offer a helping hand when it’s needed. And after what you’ve been through, you could use a little generosity. Clearly, my brother can see that.”

I clenched my jaw.

“You shouldn’t leave Cherry Tree Harbor feeling like it’s not a friendly place,” Mabel went on. “Right, Xander?”

“Right.” My dickhead brother nodded. “In this town, we open our hearts and homes to those in need.”

“Then it’s settled.” Mabel’s expression was triumphant. “She stays here for the night. Okay, Austin?”

I was caught in a trap. Unless I wanted my kids to see me act like a real asshole and toss this broke, stranded girl out on the street, I had to agree. “Fine. One night.”

“That’s really nice of you.” Veronica smiled at me. “Thanks.”

I swear I wasn’t imagining the look in her eyes that said, I won this round, didn’t I?

“Why don’t you grab your bag and come out to the garage with me now?” Mabel suggested. “I’ll show you the room and we can drink our wine while I finish packing. Then I’ll head over to my dad’s.”

“Sounds good.” Veronica pushed her chair back and stood up. Then she ran her fingertips over the smooth, glossy surface of the table, which I’d fashioned out of salvaged barn wood. “Wow. This table is really beautiful.”

Okay, fine. She had good taste.

“Dude, I can’t believe you turned her down for the job,” Xander said to me after Veronica and Mabel had gone out to the garage, the kids in tow. We were in the kitchen, filling bowls with pasta from the pot on the stove.

“You’d believe it if you’d been here when she interviewed,” I said, grabbing a beer from the fridge.

“Get me one too,” Xander said as he headed for the table.

I hooked a second bottle with my fingers before bumping the fridge door shut with my hip. Taking my seat again, I sent one bottle sliding toward my brother.

He caught it easily. “So tell me why you didn’t hire her.”

First, I uncapped my beer and took a long pull. “She wasn’t qualified.”

“But she’s hot.”

“If you had kids, you’d know that being hot is the least important quality in a nanny.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Xander said. “Listen, I love those two kids like they are mine, and I’m just saying, I’d give that girl a chance. She seems cool. Honest. Trustworthy.” He tapped his temple. “I have good instincts about that stuff.”

“She has zero experience. No car. No references. And she can’t cook,” I said, digging into the pasta. “We’ll starve.”

“So you eat takeout.”

“I’ll go broke. And I’m not crazy about a stranger living here anyway.”

Xander was quiet for a minute or two. “Don’t go all grizzly bear on me for suggesting this, but what about a longer visit in California?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Not an option.”

“Austin, you have those kids fifty-one weeks a year.”

“And the one they’re gone is tough enough.”

“But they’re not babies anymore. Sansa can handle two seven-year-olds for a summer, can’t she?”

“Not an option.”

“But couldn’t you—”

I leveled him with a look. “Not. An option.”

“Okay, okay.” Xander backed off. “Just trying to help. And it’s never seemed fair to me that you’re the only full-time parent.”

“It’s how things had to be,” I said. “It was either full-time dad or nothing. She didn’t want kids.”

I hadn’t either—not yet, anyway.

I could still remember the panic that gripped my heart when Sansa—an art student I’d met on vacation in Santa Cruz and spent several tequila-fueled, sex-filled days with at the beach—reached out to let me know she was pregnant. She was only twenty-one, still in college, up to her neck in student loans, scared out of her mind, not sure she even wanted children, and definitely not ready to be a parent at that point in her life. She was willing to have the baby, she said, but then planned to give it up for adoption.

My reaction was immediate. “I’ll raise it,” I told her, even though I was terrified. “Have the baby, and I’ll raise it.”

Of course, the phone call two weeks later came as even more of a shock—she was pregnant with twins.

“Do you still want them?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said as the room spun around me. “I’ll raise them both.”

After we hung up, I passed out.

I helped Mabel load her bags into her car.

“Take care of yourself,” I said gruffly, as we hugged goodbye in the driveway. I wasn’t big on displays of affection. “Don’t fall in any holes on the dig.”

“I won’t.” She squeezed me tight—affection came easily to her. “Thank you for letting me go.”

“No thanks necessary. Go show them all how smart you are.”

“I will.” Lowering her voice to a whisper, she pulled me down so she could put her lips at my ear. “Listen, if you change your mind about Veronica, she could always use my car this summer. I’ll leave the keys at Dad’s.”

“I won’t change my mind.” I tried to release her, but she clung like a monkey.

“She could be good for you, Austin.”

I shook her off me. “Get lost.”

“Okay, okay. I love you.”

“I love you too.” My heart ached a little watching my sister leave. She was all up in my business when she was here, but I always missed her when she was gone.

She embraced the twins. “You be good for your dad, okay?” She pointed at each of them. “Send me pics of those weekly chore charts with all the boxes checked off.”

“We will,” they promised.

“I’m gonna miss you guys.” She opened her arms for one last hug from them both at the same time. “Now go on up and brush your teeth for bed—two minutes, just like the dentist said!”

The kids went into the house, and Mabel turned to Veronica. “Well, good luck,” she said, giving the taller woman a quick hug. “You have my number, right? Text me when you get to the East Coast. Maybe we can meet up sometime.”

Veronica smiled. “I’d really like that. You’ve been so nice to me.”

I wondered where on the East Coast she was headed. Back to New York? Home to New Jersey?

“I’ll see you at the house,” Mabel called to Xander before getting into her car and driving off.

“Guess I’ll head home too,” my brother said. Turning to Veronica, he extended a hand. “Nice meeting you. If you decide to stay in town, maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Actually, I think I’m going to head back to New York.” She tucked her hands into her back pockets. “I just have to find my way to Chicago first and hope my ex lets me into the apartment to pack my clothes.”

“Damn, that guy really did a number on you.” Xander shook his head. “What a dick.”

“I let him do it,” Veronica said quickly. “I was stupid.”

Wait a minute, she was taking the blame for the way he’d treated her? For some reason, that really bothered me. “It wasn’t your fault,” I said.

Both Veronica and Xander looked at me in surprise.

“Maybe not entirely,” she hedged. “But I certainly didn’t do myself any favors by becoming so dependent on him.”

“If my bar was up and running, I’d hire you,” Xander said. “But it will be a couple months yet.”

She smiled. “I appreciate that. But I’ll be okay.”

Earlier today she’d told me she had grit and resilience, but I sensed how scared she was. I heard the tremble in her voice. My protective instincts were kicking in, and I had to sink my teeth into my tongue to prevent myself from doing something ridiculous, like hiring her.

“If you change your mind, let me know.” Xander pulled a card from his wallet and handed it to her. “My place should be open in a couple months.”

“Xander Buckley, Cole Security,” she read. “Virginia Beach.”

“I’m not in private security or Virginia Beach anymore, but the phone number’s still good.” He gave her a flirtatious grin that bugged me.

“Private security, like a bodyguard?” Veronica sounded impressed.

“Yeah.” My brother shrugged, as if he was humble. “Just for a couple years, after I left the Navy.”

At least he hadn’t mentioned being a SEAL, which surprised me, since it was usually the first thing out of his mouth when a cute girl was around.

“I was a SEAL,” he added, puffing out his chest.

Annnnd there it was.

“I should go in,” I said. Maybe these two wanted a moment alone.

“Me too, actually.” Veronica flicked the edge of Xander’s card with her fingernail. She had long, graceful fingers, and when I thought about the way she’d caressed the wooden table earlier, my body warmed. “Thank you again for letting me stay the night.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “No problem.”

She looked at Xander, then me, her eyes lingering on mine. “Well . . . goodnight.”

“Night,” Xander said.

We watched her disappear up the driveway and around the back of the house.

Then my brother turned to me and stuck his index finger in my face. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

I’d always been a light sleeper—any noise in the house will wake me, and with the windows open, any noise in the yard will too. So when I heard the door of the garage apartment open and close, then footsteps on the exterior stairs, I got out of bed.

Peeking around the shade, I saw Veronica, looking like a ghost in a white T-shirt that barely covered her ass, reach the bottom of the steps and move on bare feet across the lawn to the patio. Perching on the edge of one of the Adirondack chairs, she took out her phone. She appeared to send a text, then she put her phone down on the edge of the fire pit and buried her face in her hands. A moment later, her shoulders began to shudder, and I heard soft, pitiful sobs.

“Fuuuuuck meeeee,” I moaned quietly. Frowning, I rubbed my sore shoulder and listed all the reasons I didn’t need to go down there.

She wasn’t my problem. I couldn’t solve hers. She was a total stranger. I was good with crying kids, not crying grownups. She would be embarrassed if she knew I’d seen her. I’d be embarrassed.

But even as the list grew, I found myself tugging a shirt over my head and pulling on a pair of gray sweatpants. I glanced at my hair in the mirror over my dresser and saw it sticking up on one side pretty badly, so I grabbed a cap and tugged it on as I left my room.

On my way out to the yard, I yanked a handful of tissues from a box on the kitchen counter. When I pushed open the back door, she looked up, startled.

“Oh!” she said, frantically wiping away her tears. “I’m so sorry. Did I wake you?”

“I’m a light sleeper, and the windows are open.” I dropped into the chair next to her. “We should be quiet, though, so we don’t wake the kids.”

“Of course,” she whispered. “Sorry.”

I held out the tissues. “Here.”

“Oh. Thank you.” She sounded surprised. Our fingers touched as she took them from my hand, and I immediately pulled mine back, conscious of the heat that traveled up my arm.

She dried her tears and blew her nose while I tried not to stare at those long, bare legs in the moonlight. Crickets chirped, and a warm breeze whispered through the leaves of the red oak on the back lawn.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yes. But also no.”

“You had a rough day.”

“Yeah.”

“Look, I’m sorry about the interview. I didn’t mean to come off as rude. I just don’t like surprises, and Mabel sort of sprung you on me. To be honest, I’m not sure I’d hire any stranger to live here and take care of my kids, whether they were qualified or not.”

“It’s not that.”

I looked at her. “Is it the guy?”

“No.” She hugged her knees to her chest, her bare feet on the edge of her chair. “I lost my mom last summer, and I feel like it’s hitting me all over again. I just feel really alone.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, but my chest felt tight too. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. We were close—it was just the two of us when I was growing up. She worked so hard to give me a good life. She cleaned houses during the day and waitressed at night. Probably half her pay went to a sitter for me, until I was old enough to stay on my own. Then all her money went to my dance training. She also cleaned the studio and sewed costumes so I’d get a break on tuition.”

“You didn’t have any other family around?”

She shook her head. “I wish. My mom got pregnant with me when she was eighteen and the guy took off when she told him. She asked her parents for help, but they were very religious and told her she had sinned and shamed herself and her family.”

“So you’ve never met your father?” It was unfathomable to me—abandoning your own child.

“Never. And I don’t want to.” She paused. “I did meet my grandparents once.”

“Your mother’s parents?”

She nodded. “My mom took me to their farm once when I was four. I think she was hoping enough time had gone by that they’d be more forgiving. Or maybe she was hoping they’d see me and feel some kind of instinctual love, but . . . it didn’t happen.”

I tried to imagine it—being rejected by your own grandparents, right there, face to face. “That’s . . . that’s tough.”

“I remember sitting in the living room with their dog listening to them fight with my mom in the kitchen. I remember being scared and hearing a lot of words I didn’t understand. They seemed so mad at her.”

“I’m sorry.” It was hard not to contrast her experience with mine. When I told my dad about the twins, and how I was going to raise them on my own, he was proud of me. No questioning my decision, no judgment of me or Sansa. He was actually excited to be a grandpa.

“Eventually my mom came to the living room and got me,” Veronica went on. “She grabbed me by the hand and we walked out. I never saw them again. No birthday cards, no Christmas gifts, nothing.”

“Sounds like you were better off without them.”

“After that we went and got ice cream. I had vanilla with rainbow sprinkles.”

I looked over at her, and she suddenly looked so young, her chin resting on her knees, her eyes luminous in the dark. “You actually remember what flavor you had that day?”

“It was always my favorite. It still is.”

I nodded slowly, sort of wishing I could buy her a vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles right this second.

She sighed. “I bet there’s a great ice cream parlor in this town.”

“Several,” I confirmed. “Cherry Tree Harbor is great for anyone with a sailboat or a sweet tooth.”

“I never even got to see the harbor. Or eat any fudge.”

“You should get some before you leave.”

“Are there free samples? Currently I have about five bucks to my name.”

Sympathy tugged on my heart. “Did you ever talk to your friend? Is she able to help you out?”

“She wants to.” Veronica stretched out her legs, and the shirt rode dangerously high on her thighs. “But I don’t really have access to a bank account right now, so even transferring money to me is difficult. We need to find a Western Union or something.”

“Right.” My body was reacting to her bare skin, and my dick was perking up like it wanted a better look. Forcing my eyes away from her legs, I thought for a minute. “I think there’s one in Petoskey. That’s about twenty minutes from here.”

“Twenty minutes walking?” she asked hopefully.

I shook my head. “Driving.”

“Right.” She pointed and flexed her feet. “How many miles do you think it is?”

“Maybe ten or so.” I kneaded my aching shoulder.

“That’s not so bad. I can walk it.”

“I’ll drive you.”

She shook her head. “No. You’ve done enough.”

“I said, I’ll drive you.” God, this fucking muscle was tight as the crotch of my pants.

“You’re too busy.”

“I’ll find the time.”

“I don’t want to be a bother, Austin.”

“Too late, Veronica.” Our eyes met, and her lips parted, like I’d offended her. I thought maybe she’d continue to fight me, but then she smiled.

“Okay,” she said. “Thank you.”

Giving up on my neck, I sat back. “Do you always argue so much?”

“Are you always so bossy?”

I gave her the side eye. “Yes.”

Her lips tipped up. “Mabel said you’re the oldest of five siblings.”

“Mabel talks too much.”

“People say that about me too.”

“I believe it.”

“Mabel said you were an awesome big brother,” she went on. “A little overprotective, but always there for her.”

“I was protective of her.” I shifted in the chair. “Our mom died when I was twelve, and Mabel was only three, so I sort of helped raise her.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said softly. “That must have been really hard.”

“We managed.”

She hugged her knees again, going quiet for a moment. “I always wished I had siblings.”

“Take one of mine. Preferably Xander.”

She smiled. “You two don’t get along?”

“Eh, we get along fine. He just knows how to push my buttons.”

“I have a feeling it’s mutual,” she said.

“Xander doesn’t have too many buttons. Not much bothers him.”

“But a lot bothers you?”

“I just like things the way I like them,” I said tersely, rubbing my shoulder again.

“What’s going on here?” She gestured toward the hand gripping my sore muscles. “Did you pull something?”

“Probably.”

She rose to her feet. “Let me help. Stand up.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I said, stand up.” She mimicked my tone from before.

Slowly, I pushed myself out of the chair. We stood close, nearly chest to chest. “Now who’s bossy?”

Her smile was as tempting as her bare legs. “Turn around.”

I rolled my eyes. “Veronica.”

She drew circles in the air with one finger. “Come on. About face.”

Reluctantly, I made a half-turn, presenting her with my back.

Placing her hands on my right shoulder, she began kneading the muscle so hard I winced. “Too much?”

“No.” I closed my eyes and tried not to moan.

“We had an awesome trainer for the Rockettes,” she said. “She was a wizard at getting the kinks out of sore muscles.” One of her hands slipped beneath my T-shirt. “Is this okay?”

“It’s fine,” I said as she worked her thumb beneath my shoulder blade. How long had it been since I’d felt a woman’s hands on my back? My mind drifted into dangerous waters—my hips between her thighs, my body rocking above her.

“But as tall as I am, I do wish I was just a little bit—hang on.” She jumped up on the chair and rotated me so I faced away from her. “This is better. Now I can use my elbow.”

I groaned as she dug her elbow into my flesh. “Fuck. This is brutal. Is this because I didn’t hire you?”

She laughed. “Yes. It’s a revenge massage.”

“It’s very—Christ, that hurts—effective.” As she tortured me, I tried to keep myself from making too many noises—they all sounded sexual—and from thinking about her hands anywhere else on my body.

Or my hands on hers.

Those mile-long limbs were so pretty. And she was so flexible. What kinds of positions could she get herself into? I imagined them flung over my shoulders, or maybe pressed together and straight up, my hands locked around her ankles as I slid into her tight, wet—

“I think that’s good.” I took a step away from her.

“Did I get it?”

“Yeah.” I turned around to help her off the chair at the exact moment she hopped down, and our chests collided. She stumbled back, and I caught her by the elbows.

Laughing, she quickly regained her footing. “Sorry! I thought you were walking away, and I . . .” She lifted her chin, her voice growing soft. “Jumped.”

Our lips were close. I hadn’t kissed anyone in so long, and it seemed really fucking unfair that I couldn’t kiss this girl right here, right now, in the dark.

No one was looking. Could I?

I dipped my head slightly. Heard her quick inhale.

But it would be wrong. She was so vulnerable—what kind of jerk would take advantage of a woman who’d been through what she had today? After she’d sat here crying about how lonely she felt? After she’d been so honest with me?

As badly as I wanted to taste that mouth, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I wasn’t that guy.

I took my hands off her and stepped back.

That’s when she threw her arms around my neck and crushed her lips to mine.