The last thing I wanted was for the kids to find me in
their dad’s bed, so I haul myself from beneath the covers and head to the adjoining room, grabbing a quick shower before I attempt to wake them up.
Our flight is later in the afternoon. It’s a weekday, but the kids don’t start school until Monday, so at least we have a bit more time to get to know each other.
Once I’m showered and ready for the day, I can’t quite bring myself to wake the kids up just yet. Instead, I start to pack their bags and get ready to leave.
I can’t wipe the smile off my face. The more I try not to think about Tristan and the time we spent together during the wee hours of the morning, the more I do think about him, conjuring up extremely vivid memories of his lips, his tongue, and every muscle that bunched and clenched as he took me. I can’t rid myself of the taste of him.
We crossed a line, one we can’t go back across, but I have no intention of pretending it didn’t happen. Everything he did to me, everything he made me feel—he awoke something within me I didn’t know had been dormant.
“Faith, what are you doing?”
I didn’t even realize that Darcy was awake or sitting up, staring at me incomprehensibly.
“Good morning. I’m just packing up. And thinking about all the fun we’re going to have.”
She jumps off her bed, fist pumping the air. “You’re the best nanny we’ve ever had.”
I chuckle at her statement, but it makes something in my chest constrict. “You haven’t had that many.” I brush her hair away from her face after enveloping her in a hug. She holds me to her as though her life depends on it.
“I know, but you’re still the best!”
That’s when I feel a little squeeze around my legs. Ferguson’s awake, and he’s hugging me, too.
I remember what it was like to lose my mom. I’m not looking to replace theirs, but there’s something about having another woman around. Someone that can give the hugs and attention that you expect to receive from a maternal figure. I’m going to make their life better while I’m around. It’s a promise I’m making to them, and to myself.
I’ll even keep in touch once I go to college.
If I go to college?
I shake my head at the notion. It was only one night with Tristan, and I need to put things in perspective. But with two sets of big, wide eyes staring at me, it’s hard. Especially when I think about the prospects of having Tristan’s hands all over me every night.
* * *
We’re sitting down to breakfast, and there are only a few short hours before we have to catch our flight to Arizona. I’ve enjoyed my stay in Denver, but the prospect of seeing Tristan’s house has my curiosity piqued, and my fears rearing their ugly head.
I don’t want to let Tristan down. I took this job with a purpose, and since I had to ask for money for Dad, too, it makes me want to succeed in it even more.
I’m watching the kids polish off the food on their plates when I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I turn to see a blonde woman smiling warmly at me. I remember her from the game. She waved a couple of times then, but we hadn’t spoken.
“Hi. Faith, right?”
I nod.
She greets the kids, too, before turning back to me. “I’m Sandy, Jack’s wife. I should’ve introduced myself earlier. Anyway, I just wanted to say that if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”
I look down, and she’s stretching a hand out to pass me a card. Her name, address, and phone number are on it. “That’s very kind of you, but we’re heading to Arizona today.”
She nods, before she turns to scold her son, who’s trying to steer her away from us. “I know,” she admits. “We’re on the same flight. What time is the driver picking you up?”
“Twelve.”
She smiles. “Same time as us, perfect. I’ll see you down at the reception desk, then. That is, if Junior doesn’t pull my arm off first.” She rolls her eyes. “Anyway, I just wanted to say hello and let you know we’re not too far from Tristan’s house. If you need anything, you know how to get a hold of me.”
“Right. Thank you.” But she doesn’t hear my reply. Her son’s insistently dragging her toward the vending machines. Ah, that’s what was so important. I chuckle to myself as the boy begins pressing buttons in rapid succession while his mother feeds quarters into the slot.
“She’s nice.” Darcy’s voice cuts into my thoughts, and I turn toward her as she continues. “Sandy, I mean. You should call her when we get back home.” She hops off her stool.