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  • 7+Us Makes Nine: A Nanny Single Dad Romance (Baby Makes Three) Page 11

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Page 11


  “I’m so sorry you’re having to deal with all this.”

  “Me too,” I said as I stroked her cheek. “Now, what was that phone call with your mother about?”

  She shook her head and pulled away from my touch.

  “Just the ever-present bullshit she always throws my way. Somehow, my sister skipping out on rehab is my fault because I didn’t want to take over the family business. How Hannah knows what’s best for her and if she can control herself at a party than she’s fine.”

  “It sounds like your parents are enablers.”

  “Yep. Until the spotlight’s on them. I found that out recently. My parents didn’t enroll Hannah into rehab until my father’s board of investors caught wind of what was going on. That’s how my parents operate. They don’t do anything that’s best for anyone else but themselves and that damn company until it affects their image or their bottom line. Then, they give a shit,” she said.

  “Come here,” I said as I opened my arms up to her. “Come here, Catherine.”

  She sank into me heavily as I wrapped my arms around her. I felt her tears staining the front of my shirt. It made my heart ache. This wasn’t what she signed up for when she took this job. And I knew no amount of money or benefits I could offer her would make the pain go away. I ran my fingers through her tangled hair as I pulled out my phone, and I immediately dialed my lawyer.

  “Mr. Logan. How can I help you?”

  “I need some reassurance, Paul.”

  “Then I’m in the business of reassuring. Did Anya do something again?” he asked.

  “She did. This time, she threatened my children’s nanny that she would come after them. And it rattled her so badly she called the boys’ school to make sure no one else picked them up or took them in any way but her or I.”

  “Then I’ll reiterate what I always tell you when you call. This custody agreement is ironclad. And so is the restraining order. She isn’t allowed on your property at all or within one thousand feet of whatever enclosure you and the children are in at any given moment. This custody agreement explicitly states that she cannot see or interact with the children until she successfully completes rehab and takes the necessary weekly drug tests to prove she’s sober over a four-month period. After that, the custody agreement can be taken back to court and amended. But not until then. And it’s stated verbatim and in that order.”

  “And you’re sure she can’t do anything? There are no loopholes with me traveling with the kids or anything like that?” I asked.

  “Nope. That’s why I fought for the second part of the restraining order. It pertains to your property no matter if you and the children are in it, but it also pertains to you and the children as a unit anywhere you go. Overseas. To the moon. In the middle of the sun. Anywhere, anytime, no matter what.”

  Hearing my lawyer say that provided me a great deal of relief.

  “Anya has a habit of making herself a public spectacle. Even if she did find a lawyer and attempt to take you back to court, one drug test and one look at the interviews she’s been giving will tip the score right back into your favor. Her sobriety is paramount to this custody agreement, and she simply isn’t.”

  “Thanks for talking with me,” I said.

  I felt Catherine’s breathing steadying out against my chest.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?” Paul asked.

  “Fix this?” I asked.

  “I wish I could. I know it hurts. I watched my mother go through the same thing with my father, Mr. Logan. Wanting someone to get sober and watching them choose the drug over their family isn’t easy. Especially when it happens more than once. What I can tell you as many times as you need is that this agreement is ironclad with no loopholes. I made sure of it.”

  “Thanks, Paul. I appreciate it.”

  “Call me anytime, Mr. Logan.”

  I hung up the phone with my lawyer and felt Catherine wiggle closer into me. She was officially sleeping, and I figured I’d sit there and let her sleep. My mind was swirling anyway, and I had a pretty good feeling that Michaela was asleep in her new pop-up tent. If she wasn’t, she would’ve come barreling down the stairs at the sound of my voice. I slid my fingers through her hair and leaned my head back, sighing as I closed my eyes. I wrapped my arms around Catherine as tightly as I could and pulled her into my lap, feeling her curl up and ease her head onto my shoulder.

  I hated that she experienced that kind of fear and terror. I knew what it was like with Anya. To feel so worried for the safety of the kids while wishing none of it was happening. And to have her own sister thrown into me mix? It made me sick with anger. I knew Anya had her issues. We all did. But willingly dragging someone else’s family through the mud just so she could air her own dirty laundry?

  The last piece of who I knew the woman I once married to be was gone.

  I stroked my fingers through Catherine’s hair and closed my eyes. The boys would be home in about an hour and I wanted to see them off the bus. But up until then? I wanted to rest my aching mind. I wanted to relish the feel of Catherine’s body curled up in my lap. I wanted to replay my lawyer’s words in my head over and over again until I convinced even myself that he was telling the truth.

  That Anya couldn’t take these kids away from me in the condition she was in.

  The next thing I remembered, I heard the bus pulling up at the end of the driveway. I picked Catherine up and settled her back down onto the couch and quickly covered her with a blanket. A knock came at the door and I rushed to it, trying to get it open so no one would wake my girls up.

  My girls.

  I smiled at the thought.

  “Daddy!”

  “Hey there, boys,” I said as I hugged them close.

  I looked up at the bus attendee and smiled at her.

  “Thank you so much for walking my boys to the door,” I said.

  “It’s not a problem, Mr. Logan. When your nanny called, we figured it would be best if someone rode on their bus today.”

  “I really appreciate it. Can I tip you or something?”

  “No, sir,” she said with a giggle. “That won’t be necessary.”

  “Then tell the school to expect a donation for their vigilance in keeping them safe.”

  “I’m sure it will be very much appreciated,” she said with a smile. “You guys take care.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Where’s Miss Cathy?” Dmitri asked.

  “Is she cooking dinner?” Ivan asked.

  “Actually, no. We’re going to order pizza for dinner tonight. Your sister’s napping and so is Miss Cathy, so try to keep it down,” I said.

  “Oh, can we have pepperoni?” Ivan whispered.

  “And pineapple?” Dmitri asked.

  “Since when do you eat pineapple on your pizza?” I asked.

  “Since Miss Cathy cooked it for us for lunch one day. It’s really good,” Dmitri said.

  “Then a pepperoni pizza and a pineapple pizza it is,” I said with a grin.

  “Pizza?”

  I looked up the steps and saw my beautiful little girl. Dragging her blanket behind her and rubbing her eyes, she started down the stairs. I went to the bottom and held my arms out for her, then held her close and smothered her cheeks with kisses.

  “Yes, princess. We’re going to do pizza for dinner,” I said.

  “Miss Caffy?” she asked.

  “Is sleeping. So we have to be quiet,” I said with a whisper.

  “Okay,” Michaela whispered loudly.

  I shuffled the kids into their downstairs play area Catherine had made up for them, then started ordering the pizza. I walked into the living room and peeked over the couch, watching as Catherine’s shoulders rose and fell with her breaths. I knew what kind of pizza she would want. Hawaiian pizza with a buffalo hot sauce swirl and no meat. I ordered the pizza as I reached down, pulling the blanket further over her shoulder so she wouldn’t get cold.

  Then I hung up the phone, bent over
the couch, and kissed her cheek.

  One stolen moment while the kids were playing in the other room.

  Eighteen

  Catherine

  Anytime I went out with the kids, I was extra vigilant. I kept my eyes peeled and always had my phone ready and waiting to dial 9-1-1. I knew from the conversation Jace had with his lawyer that anytime him and the kids were out, Anya couldn’t approach. But I didn’t know what that meant if I was out with the kids. I didn't want to frighten them or keep them from doing things they enjoyed doing, but I also wanted to keep them safe.

  So I always made sure I could defend myself and the children if necessary.

  I bought a flashlight taser. If I flipped it one way, it was a blinding light. And if I flipped it the other way, it was a taser. It was also made of this metallic material that was incredibly durable but not heavy. So if all else failed, I could beat the shit out of someone with it. I hoped with all my heart that it would never come down to that. Anya was the children’s mother and I wanted to be sympathetic towards that.

  But not at the expense of the children’s safety.

  That was my first and foremost responsibility. To keep them safe.

  I was on high-alert at the parks and tried to avoid crowds if possible with them. Construction had begun on the indoor structure that would house the pool and the hot tub, so the kids were bouncing off the walls. They kept asking me when it would be ready and if they could go swimming that weekend and all sorts of stuff. But my anxiety in public was getting the best of me.

  “Hey, have you guys ever tried to garden?” I asked.

  “You mean grow stuff?” Ivan asked.

  “Yeah. You guys have a couple of garden beds out back.”

  “Mom and Dad tried sometimes to garden, but they always killed stuff,” Dmitri said.

  “Flowers?” Michaela asked. “We grow flowers?”

  “If you want. Would you guys like to try and grow something?” I asked.

  “Like what?” Dmitri asked.

  “You can grow anything. Apple trees. Tomato vines. Grape vines.”

  “We can grow grapes!?” Ivan asked.

  “We could certainly try,” I said with a smile.

  “Do you grow stuff?” Dmitri asked.

  “I did at one point. I was really good at growing blackberry bushes, beans, and herbs.”

  “Blackberries?” Michaela asked. “Yummy.”

  “Would you guys like to try making your own garden? You boys could have one and Michaela and I could have one.”

  “Can we grow whatever we want?” Ivan asked.

  “Within the season, sure,” I said.

  “Season?” Michaela asked.

  “Some fruits and vegetables grow better in certain seasons. For instance, watermelons thrive in the summer, but you don’t want to grow pumpkins until early fall. It takes a certain temperature to grow specific plants, and sometimes summer’s too hot for things while fall is too cold for others,” I said.

  “I want a garden,” Dmitri said. “Can I grow carrots?”

  “Of course you can. Why don’t we all go out this weekend and get what we need?” I asked. “We can to the store and get soil and seeds. Trowels for digging and gloves for all the bugs that want to bite us.”

  “Yeah!” Ivan exclaimed.

  “I can’t wait to tell Dad,” Dmitri said.

  “I grow flowers?” Michaela asked.

  “We can plant however many flowers around the house you want,” I said with a smile.

  I finally got the kids off to school that morning without any breakfast. So I made sure they had money for extra large lunches. I made sure they each ate an apple on the way, but I knew it wasn’t as good as a cooked meal. They had way too much fun talking about all of the things they were going to plant in their gardens. We’d stood at the porch doors and talked the entire morning away!

  It would be a good activity to teach them a lot of good lessons.

  It would also keep us from having to stray too far from the house, given that the restraining order protected the house at all costs.

  My phone rang out and I went in search of it. It took a little bit of digging underneath dirty clothes I had yet to wash before I found it. I saw Jace was calling and it made me smile, but then I began to panic.

  Why was he calling me in the middle of the day?

  “Jace?” I asked. “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. I knew you’d be worried if I called.”

  “Is there something you need?”

  “I need you to come to my office whenever you can. Preferably without the children. I want to talk about this situation, and I don’t like doing it when the kids are home.”

  “Let me get this last load of laundry in the washer and I’ll be there, okay? Are you hungry? It’s almost lunch,” I said.

  “I’ll have something here for us. Don’t you worry about that. Just come when you can,” he said.

  “I’ll text you once I leave.”

  Forty minutes later, I was heading up the steps to his office. Like I’d done the first day I met him. I knocked on his office door and he beckoned me to come in, and I saw he was on the phone. I looked at the two massive salads on his desk and smiled. Neither of them had any meat in it. It looked as if my habits were rubbing off on him a bit. And the salad looked phenomenal. Seeds and nuts. Dried fruits and three kinds of lettuce. Red peppers and carrots and radishes and all sorts of yummy things tossed in a dressing that permeated the room and made my mouth water.

  “Hungry?” Jace asked as he put down his phone.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said.

  “You never could. Take a seat.”

  I sat down and he handed me one of the salads before holding out a soda. I took the caffeine willingly and cracked it open, drinking it as quickly as I could. The carbonation burned, but the caffeine helped me to perk up a bit.

  “I’ve got plenty more if you’re thirsty after that one,” Jace said.

  “You wanted to talk?” I asked as I reached for a fork.

  “First, I want to start by iterating how wonderful you are.”

  My eyes whipped up to his face and my brow furrowed.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I knew I’d hired the right person to watch my children from day one, but it wasn’t until this situation with Anya happened that I realized the lengths you’re willing to go to in order to protect my children. I want you to know that you’re remarkable for it and that your efforts don’t go unnoticed.”

  “That’s my job, Jace. Your children always need to be safe with me,” I said.

  “And you need to be safe in the process.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Maybe I’m not being clear,” he said as he stood up.

  I watched him come around to me as I took a bite of my salad. He sat down in a chair next to me and placed his hand on my knee. My eyes fell to the connection and I watched him squeeze my skin, shooting electricity up my thigh.

  I swallowed the bite of salad I’d taken at the wrong time before putting it back on his desk.

  “Catherine.”

  “Yes Jace?”

  “I…”

  I dropped my hand to his and curled my fingers around his skin, trying to comfort him. I knew what he was going to say, and I knew he felt he was going out on a limb to say it. But he wasn’t.

  He wasn’t alone in his declaration.

  “I care about you. More than just a father would care about the nanny to his children. You’ve brought a light back into my house that had been extinguished for years, and I owe you everything for that.”

  “You don’t owe me anything, Jace. I’m happy to be here,” I said.

  “You’ve been so wonderful with the kids. So wonderful to me. So when I tell you I want to protect my family at all costs, what I need you to understand is that you are included in that statement.”

  I felt my heart thunder in my ears.

  “You’r
e part of this family, Catherine. My family. I care about you more than I care to admit to myself right now, and I know that’s juvenile. I know it’s high school-ish. But it is what it is. And I want to keep you safe as well as my children. I need you to know that I’m going to do that. No matter what it takes.”

  I reached my free hand up and smoothed my knuckles lightly over his skin.

  “I care about you too, Jace,” I said.

  I watched a sparkle dance in his eyes as a grin crossed his cheeks.

  “So I should probably tell you I’m carrying a taser now,” I said with a sigh.

  “You’re what?” he asked, chuckling.

  “I know it’s overkill. Sort of. It makes me feel safer when I’m out in public with the children.”

  “Then by all means, carry it,” he said. “But I wanted to look you in the eye and tell you that when I talk about protecting my family and doing whatever it takes to make sure their well-being is assured, it means you as well.”

  “I appreciate that. I really do,” I said.

  Then, my stomach let out a resounding growl that caused me to blush.

  “Should we go ahead and eat lunch?” he asked.

  “I think my stomach is overtly rebelling at this point because of it,” I said.

  “Then let’s eat.”

  He sat by me as the two of us ate our salads. He filled me in on some things going on with the theater and the performances he was gearing up for with the summer season. I told him the construction guys had come by to start on the indoor structure for the pool and the hot tub and the kids were bouncing off the walls because of it. I told him about our gardening adventure for the weekend and how I thought I could teach the kids self-sufficiency by helping them grow their own food.

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” he said. “Why don’t we grow things to make our own salads?”

  “Well, the boys are wanting to grow insane things like grapes and pineapples. But I think Michaela would like growing lettuce and red peppers,” I said.

  “Pineapples, huh? I hear you’ve got Dmitri hooked on them now.”

  “I’m telling you. I put it on pizza once and now the boy can’t stop eating them,” I said with a giggle.

 

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