Grateful to Jace for putting together an actual intelligible sentence to end this mortifying back and forth, I gestured toward the living room.
“OK.” Ryla shrugged and skipped off toward the living room. I glanced at Jace and saw that his lips were pursed together, fighting a smile.
“You scared off yet?”
His hazel eyes danced. “Not in the slightest.”
* * *
“And this is the kitchen!” Ryla was having a great time on this tour, announcing each room with jazz hands, interjecting commentary here and there. Once I spent too long explaining something so she’d flounced off to the next room yelling, “You coming this century, slowpokes?”
Jace was attentive and curious, quietly asking a few questions to me or Ryla. We started off the tour by showing him the basement theater room, then returning to the first floor, starting at the library and moving down the hall to the kitchen.
“This is where I put the meal plan and daily schedule.” I powered on the tablet on the island as Jace came to stand beside me. “This also has a calendar, important information for the kids, those kinds of things. We’ve been using it since our previous au pair, Giselle, was with us.”
“His name’s Barry!” Ryla chirped, nudging me out of the way so she could stand between us.
“Oh yeah? Why’d you name him Barry?” Jace drawled.
“Because that’s what he looked like.” Ryla’s tone was matter-of-fact, but I still winced, peeking over at Jace who was nodding as if she made sense.
“What does Barry do?”
“Mommy puts the menu in him and lists and not fun stuff like going to therapy and I have to mark it off like this.” Ryla demonstrated how each of the kids tapped the screen to check off the scheduled tasks for the day.
I took over from Ryla and went through how to navigate the app. “Here’s how you get to the home calendar and here’s where you press to get to the to-do lists and meal plan. Giselle loved to cook, so she helped plan out the meals and I’ve kept a lot of the recipes the same. If you don’t know how to make something, the recipe pops up like this. I usually plan everything out a week or two in advance. At least, that’s what I did for our previous au pair?—”
“Giselle?” Jace grinned, tone playful.
I let out a light laugh, then squinted one eye. “Have I mentioned her name before?”
Chuckling quietly, Jace glanced down at Barry again, his grin falling slightly.
I hesitated. “Do you know how to cook?”
Jace glanced up, a reassuring smile on his face. “Sure. Not a problem.”
“I can help! I have an apron, and my name is on it, see?” Ryla emerged from the pantry wearing her apron proudly showing off her name that had been stitched onto it.
“I see. Did your momma help you do that?”
“Giselle did it! She cooked with me and played with me and one day when I’m really old, like sixteen, I’m gonna go live with her in Italy for real!”
For the first months after Giselle left, I’d heard these types of comments daily. Luckily it had been happening less often now, but each time she said it, that old wound got pressed, a bruise that’s never been allowed to heal. Gratefully, Jace asked Ryla a question about cooking so I was able to collect myself. After Ryla put her apron away, I slowly began to back out of the kitchen, gesturing to them both. “I can show you your room, Jace, and then we can go upstairs.”
Jace and I were walking under the arched open doorway separating the kitchen from the living room, which was easily wide enough for two people when Ryla scurried past me and the wall, shooting off toward the living room. I sidestepped toward Jace, accidentally knocking into him. It really could have stopped there, but I jerked to the right, resulting in my feet and body turning in opposite directions. Losing my balance, I was horrified as I began to fall, but Jace caught me, bringing his arms around me and pressing me into his chest.
“Sorry!” I wheezed, inadvertently catching a lungful of his cologne.
“Don’t apologize. Are you alright?” he asked, helping me stand upright.
“I’m fine, really. Thank you.” I stepped back as soon as I gained my bearings. His hands, however, trailed down my arms to my wrists. Goosebumps that I hoped he wouldn’t notice erupted over my skin. He let go of me almost reluctantly, watching me with a wary expression, not letting me go completely until he was certain I was fine.
Which I certainly wasnot. Mentally, that is.
Not in any way.
Cheeks fire engine red, I spun and walked toward my parents’ old bedroom, extra aware of Jace’s presence beside me. Leah’s words from yesterday kept playing in my head, that he was hands off with single mothers, showing them no interest. Yet that was contrary to every interaction I’d ever had with him. Including today. He was easygoing, yes, but he was also flirtatious. He showed keen interest throughout the entire tour, asking thoughtful questions. He didn’t seem like someone disinterested in me or my kids. Was it all just an act?
