Sullivan answered. “Sure. We can do it all. We’ll go get ice cream after your rocket class. Then we’ll come home and swim. Okay, go get dressed so we can start our family fun day.”
The term gave me a warm feeling inside as well as a pang of concern that perhaps I would be out of place on this outing.
As the girls scooted back from the table and darted away, I called after them, “I put out two choices of clothes for each of you on your beds. Pick the one you like best, put it on—withshoes—and be back down here in ten minutes please.”
Sullivan shook his head at me, his eyes sparkling. “I still don’t know how you did it. It used to take mehoursto get them dressed.”
“I didn’t do all that much, really,” I said. “Everyone likes having choices, but little kids can be overwhelmed by too much choice. They do better with just a few options. It’s a lot easier to pick between option A and option B than it is to follow a vague request to pick ‘something’ from a closet full of a hundred things.”
“Well, I still say you’re brilliant.”
He dipped his chin and looked at me from beneath his raised brows. “You werebornto raise kids.”
There was another pang—not of concern but of something else, something like hunger but emotional instead of physical. I was getting them more often lately.
Seeing Sullivan with his daughters, the way he treasured them, the way he thought every little thing they did was adorable, simply melted me.
And then there was the way I felt in his presenceafterthe girls went to bed.
In spite of my best efforts to control it, I’d begun to look forward to those moments when it was just the two of us, discussing how his training had gone during the day, what the girls had seen and learned and enjoyed, laughing over something cute one of them had said.
It was in these moments of innocent, casual conversation that I was getting to know him, to learn bits and pieces of his past and about his life in the present.
It was in these moments I was growing to like him.
No, I should definitelynotgo along today.
“Um… Sullivan…”
“When are you gonna start calling me Sully?” he asked, interrupting. “All my friends call me Sully.”
“But we’re not friends. You’re my employer.”
“Can’t I be both?”
“I guess so.” I hesitated. “Sully… wouldn’t you like for it to be just the three of you today? I can stay home and do some cleaning while you take them to the children’s museum and out for ice cream.”
He gave me anAre you crazy?look. “What? Hell no.”
Realizing he’d cursed—which I never did—he mumbled a quick “Sorry,” then went on. “The girls will want you there.Iwant you there. It wouldn’t be family fun day without you. And cleaning is definitelynotpart of your job.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Ido. Let Cinda’s employees earn their money. I’m paying you to spend time with the girls, not be a maid. All right, well, I’m gonna go up and change too. Do I get a prize if I’m back in ten minutes?”
He gave me a wicked grin, those blue eyes twinkling.
You get whatever you want.
I banished the dangerous, unexpected thought. “I’ll put a gold star on your chart,” I said in a light, carefree tone then fled to the pantry to pack snacks for our outing.
Chapter Ten
Pretty Woman
Angelina
The balloon inventions class was a huge hit. Afterward we had snacks and juice in the museum’s garden before heading for the car to continue our adventure.
