If that doesn’t prove last night and this morning weren’t just moments of weakness, I don’t know what would.
It’s also insanely hot. Maybe it’s my ticking biological clock talking, but knowing Zack is holding back so he can have a better chance at knocking me up makes me so insanely frisky that, after I finish crying and go upstairs to unpack, I can’t resist having a moment with myself in the shower. And it’s not Fernando—or Thor, God of Thunder, my only fictional crush—that I’m fantasizing about as I come on my own hand.
It’s Zack—sweet, intense, sexy-as-hell Zack who is hotter than any movie star.
After I’m clean, I change into a slinky green sundress far too sexy for lounging around a haunted house, waiting for the ghosts to make contact, and roll my suitcase out into the hall. I assume Zack still wants to sleep separately tonight, and even if he doesn’t, I’m going to have to insist on a couple of doors between us.
If he’s lying in bed next to me, I don’t trust myself not to pounce him in my sleep.
I choose a small bedroom decorated in delicate pinks and yellows, with rose-patterned wallpaper and a fluffy white comforter that is as soft as it looks. After checking the closet and the small adjoining half bath to make sure nothing is lurking in wait to spook me later, I wander downstairs.
There’s still no sign of Zack or Jed or Nancy, so I grab my book and head out to the pool. I resist the lure of the sunny side of the blue water—I’ve been working so hard this summer that I’m still winter-pale, and a burn would seriously spoil my plans for the week. Instead, I settle into a shady lounge chair, where I open my book and disappear into a world of lords and ladies and a beautiful nanny who is a commoner, unfit to marry a duke, but she will.
I know she will.
Even though I’ve read at least a dozen variations on this same historical romance plotline, it doesn’t matter. I love it as much as I did the first time. I still can’t wait to be there as the love story unfolds. I will still swoon when they kiss for the first time, and rage when the Duke’s evil sister is terrible to the nanny, and sigh with happiness when the hero and heroine fall in love and form a family with the motherless little girl the nanny’s come to love like her own.
Family has always been a part of the ideal happily ever after for me. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve leaned toward stories of broken people, of motherless or fatherless children coming together to heal each other’s hurts and create something beautiful out of the shattered pieces the bad guys in their past left behind.
Deep down, I know a part of the reason I desperately want a child to love is that I didn’t experience that boundless mother love I’ve read about when I was growing up. But I know it’s more than fiction. I’ve seen it in up close with Theo and her sweet mama and with my other friends who were lucky enough to be born into the kind of loving families I daydreamed about growing up.
And I know I can be that kind of mom, the kind who loves my precious son or daughter enough to make them feel they can take on the world and anything it throws at them.
And maybe, just maybe, I’ll heal that sad little girl inside me while I’m at it.
I’ve just gotten to the juicy part of my book—the Duke and the nanny are caught outside in a terrible storm and forced to take refuge in an abandoned cottage where they will absolutely no longer be able to keep their hands off of each other—when a soft voice intrudes, rumbling, “Wake up, beautiful.”
I pull in a breath and open my eyes, blinking in the dim light as the handsome man standing over my lounge chair slides into focus. “Hey,” I say, smiling as I hum sleepily. “I think I took a nap.”
Zack grins, the warmth in his eyes banishing the chill lifting the hair on my arms. “Looks like it. Hungry?”
My stomach snarls audibly, and Zack and I both grin wider. “Starving.”
He extends a hand. “Then let’s go. Nancy headed into the kitchen about twenty minutes ago. Said she was going to warm up the chicken and dumplings she made last night and make some salads.”
I take his hand, thoughts sluggish as he draws me to my feet. “Twenty minutes ago?” His arm goes around my waist, pulling me close to his delicious heat. Instinctively, I snuggle against him, loving the way I fit perfectly under his scruffy chin.
He presses a kiss to my forehead. “I watched you sleep for a while. I knew it was creepy, but I couldn’t help myself. You were so beautiful.”