“Jamie—”
“Morphine.” His pain receptors lighting up like a Christmas tree wrapped in a string of blinking lights; he didn’t have it in him to be civil. He needed to be unconscious, and when he woke again, he wanted his father gone.
* * *
With Penelopedown for her afternoon nap, Summer sat in the big leather chair by the fire, Duff in her lap, and tried to focus on the colorful picture book she held in her hand.Baby Bear’s First Christmaswas a childhood favorite, but after a restless night full of bad dreams, she had to work hard at maintaining a chipper façade.
“Just pulled a fresh batch of cookies out of the oven,” Janet Cobb said as she ambled into the great room, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, and bringing the scent of warm sugar with her. “Who wants one?”
“I do!” Duff replied, sliding off Summer’s legs and landing on his feet.
The Wagners’ long-time cook grinned as he ran toward her. “How about you, Summer? Care for one of my decadent chocolate chips?”
Yes, she wanted one. And no, she couldn’t have one. Not unless she wanted to feel terrible later. Maintaining her sugar level meant skipping treats, but worth it to avoid the inevitable crash that came following an indulgence. “Thanks, but I better clean up before Mrs. Wagner gets home.”
Janet looked at the mess of building blocks, matchbox cars, and stuffed animals littering the floor. Under normal circumstances, toys stayed upstairs in the playroom, but with everything going on and Mr. Wagner in a mood, Summer hadn’t wanted to be alone and isolated on the second floor of the big house.
Kids or no kids.
Her expression sympathetic, the older woman nodded in understanding. “I’ll send Duff back in to help after his snack. He won’t be long. Ready little man?” She held her fingers out to his, and he slipped his hand into her palm.
“Can I have two cookies if I say please?” he asked, skipping on his way out, and Summer felt a surge of pride as she stood and stooped to pick up Penelope’s plush rabbit. Duff was turning into a kind, smart, polite boy, a far cry from the temperamental three-year-old he’d been when she’d arrived, and she liked to think she played some part in how he was growing and learning.
God, she’d miss him like crazy. Penelope too. They were sweet children, despite their parent’s shortcomings, and no question, she’d worry about them long after she left. Even though it wasn’t part of her job description, according to Mrs. Bloomsberry.
She’d warned Summer not to get too attached to the family she worked for. Not a problem where Mr. and Mrs. Wagner were concerned, but Duff and Penelope? They pulled on her heartstrings and leaving them would be hard.
With a sigh, she tossed Mr. Rabbit into the toy basket, and grabbing the handle, she pulled the soft woven hamper into the middle of the area rug and dropped to her knees. Quicker and easier to tidy this way.
She made fast work of the big-ticket items, but the Lego? It’s as if those little suckers had feet of their own. They were scattered everywhere, and crawling a few inches at a time, she pushed the Lego container ahead of her as she collected an assortment of red, green, yellow, and blue bricks.
The trail of plastic led her toward the Christmas tree tucked into the corner near the entrance to Mrs. Wagner’s office, and she paused for a moment to sit back on her haunches to admire the big pine. Decorated with antique wooden ornaments, burlap bows, and lit with hundreds of sparkling white lights, the tree was a throwback to simpler times.
“Now there’s a pretty sight if I ever saw one.”
At the sound of John’s voice, Summer’s head snapped around.Crap!He stood between her and the exit, scotch glass in hand, his barrel chest puffed out, his lust-filled gaze locked on her where she kneeled on the floor.
“Mr. Wagner!” She jumped to her feet, a red Lego crushed in her fist and biting into her palm. “You can’t say things like that to me. It’s inappropriate.”
His lecherous grin widened, and her stomach turned sour. “A little presumptuous to assume I was talking about you, Ms. Summers.” He finished his drink in one swallow and placed the tumbler on the side table next to the couch. “But you do look so tempting on your knees. I’ll bet your boyfriend enjoys playtime with you immensely. Do you clean up after him as well?”
Ew. Gross.What Summer did with her fake boyfriend was none of John Wagner’s business. She’d lied about having a man named Mason in her life, hoping it would stop her employer from hitting on her. It hadn’t worked. If anything, it had thrown gas on the fire, and now she had to fend off more aggressive advances. “Mr. Wag—”
“Come now, Summer. Stop being a tease.” He edged toward her, his hand brushing over the back of the puffy couch cushions. “How about a little pre-Christmas kiss in exchange for a bigger bonus this year, hmm?”
“I don’t need a bonus,” she lied. Short on this month’s payment to her mother after splurging on a couple of presents for the kids, she needed the extra money to make ends meet and keep the wolves at bay if she didn’t find new employment soon.
He tsked. “Don’t be like that, sweetheart. We could all use a little comfort today. What’s the harm in spreading a little cheer between friends?”
“We’re not friends, and I said no.”
Deaf to her refusal, he lunged toward her, and she turned and ran.
Straight into Mrs. Wagner’s office.
On instinct, she reached into her pocket, releasing the Lego to clutch the rubber wedge. A useless move. She only had one stopper, and there were two glass-paned doors. Unable to barricade herself, her next available option was to delay him until Duff came back.
In a hurry to put the large wooden desk between them, she bumped the corner, knocking a tray of files to the floor and scattering papers everywhere. The clatter stopped her pursuer in his tracks, fear of his wife’s wrath rearranging his features into a mask of horror.
