The doorbell rang. Abby stopped in her tracks and groaned. She couldn’t go through with it. She’d changed her mind. It was, after all, a woman’s prerogative.
Sliding the cookie sheet into the oven, she popped the door shut. Pausing to twist the timer to nine minutes, she blew a wisp of hair from her eyes. He was here. The final applicant. Abby brushed cookie dough from her hands with the rooster-adorned dish towel. Untying her apron, she whipped it off and flung it over a chair back and headed toward the front of the house. Thank goodness this silly business could finally come to an end.
A thoughtful, careful woman, Abigail Margaret Roberts was not used to complying with an impulse, in this case a search for a “manny,” or male nanny. She had no idea why she had followed through with this crazy idea.
Desperation, she laughed to herself. Pure and simple. With her two boys, life had become such a patchwork when it should all have been so uncomplicated. She had grabbed at straws. And now the last straw was about to enter her house.
Abby had tried to call this applicant twice to cancel, but there had been no answer either time. Who in this day and age didn’t own an answering machine? She would much rather have canceled this over the phone than in person.
As was her habit, she stopped in the hallway to check her appearance in the full-length mirror. Unruly hair escaped her ponytail. Her cheeks were flushed due to the heat in the kitchen. She looked a mess. Too late to fix that now.
Each and every previous interview had been a disaster for one reason or another. The applicants were simply weird, or her boys had acted up like little devils. One man had even scared the daylights out of her. Gaunt and dark, he looked like something out of a Dracula movie. She was ruing the day she had ever decided to entertain such a foolhardy thought.
Yet it had all started so simply. A day off. A beautiful, sunshiny day just for herself. The boys were in school, and it had just seemed like a great time to putter in her flower garden or lounge around on the porch.
Back then it was just a tiny seed of an idea when she happened to turn on the television that afternoon and catch a talk show all about men, from many different walks of life, who were turning out to be wonderful nannies. And since there was no longer a man in this house…the idea had blossomed into something more.
The door chime sounded again. Abby looked from her disorderly reflection to her watch. Well, he was prompt if maybe a bit impatient. Turning toward the door, pulling in a determined breath, she took hold of the knob and yanked the heavy oak door open.
Instantly she was looking straight into the dark abyss of the wide-open mouth of the Tasmanian Devil. It adorned a blindingly white T-shirt that clung to a very broad chest. She looked up to the extrawide shoulders that stretched the fabric of the T-shirt.
Tilting her head back even farther, she finally caught sight of the face of the man wearing the cartoon shirt. She felt a jolt akin to touching the wrong thingamajig in the fuse box while standing in a tub of ice-cold water. Up to her knees.
He literally took her breath away.
Towering a good foot over her five-foot-four frame, he was lean, dark and handsome. Like something straight out of a fortune-teller’s best conjuration.
He couldn’t be the manny applicant. More like this gorgeously tanned guy was peddling leftover blacktop from a road job nearby. Abby looked past him to the street. No big, red construction truck idled at the curb.
Totally confused now, she looked back at him. His wavy mop of hair was the color of rich walnut. His cheekbones slashed across his face toward a nose that probably had been broken once. Twice maybe. Shadowy brown eyes were flecked with gold torchlight. Her gaze fell to his mouth, and when it curved into a slightly crooked smile, she felt her hormone level quickly bubble up and spill over like some unidentifiable potion in a mad scientist’s beaker set over an open flame.
His mouth quirked down at one corner when he grinned. His upper lip was all but hidden by a thick mustache. Longish sideburns completed the picture of a desperado. All he needed was a cowboy hat on his head and a big black horse hitched to a rail.
“Hi.” His voice was lazy. Deep and gravelly like a. hundred-foot waterfall hidden way back in a canyon.
She shut her mouth with a snap and then opened it again. “Hello.”
Abby was two clicks away from telling him she didn’t need anything he was selling, but he could simply stand there and let her look at him as if he had a surplus of time on his hands.
And then the splendid hunk moved, holding out his huge hand. “I’m Jack Murdock. My appointment’s at one with Mrs. Roberts.”
No way was this guy a manny prospect. Absolutely no way! A rodeo champion. A race-car driver. A marauder, maybe. But definitely not a male nanny.
She laid her hand in his, and it was lost inside rockhard, confident fingers. She swallowed hard, moistening her dry tongue.
“I’m Abigail Roberts.” She didn’t know whether to be thankful or sorry.
Her heartbeat did a ridiculous hop, skip, jump and cartwheel in her chest. At that cold realization, she nearly laughed out loud. She wasn’t a teenager anymore. Why was she reacting to this man this way? She’d been around good-looking men before. Her body should show a little more decorum.
She squared her shoulders. Her good-mother sense kicked into gear. This was business. What kind of a man would show up for a job interview in a cartoon shirt and jeans?
She hesitated, but only for a moment. Best to get this over with as soon as possible.
“Come on in, Mr. Murdock.” When he stepped forward, Abby’s attention was drawn downward to a short shadow at his side. A dark-haired little girl in tiny bib overalls was clinging to his leg.
Jack Murdock bent down and took the child’s hand. “This is my daughter, Katie. We come as a pair.”
Abby’s heart did another roll. The child was beautiful. She had curly, shiny hair with a crooked bow clipped above one ear. And his long, tall body made her short, round one seem even more fragile. The little girl’s plump fingers were wrapped around one of his slender ones. She was so cute with those little round cheeks, huge eyes and that inquisitive look.
While Katie was satisfied to stay pressed against her daddy’s faded denims, he reached down like a jolly giant and plucked her up into his arms to settle her on his hip. This brought an instant smile to the child’s face. The beautiful little girl couldn’t be more than two. Katie eyed Abby, sizing her up from under long lashes, her head tucked under her father’s chin.
For a flash, Abby saw the little girl she had yearned for year after year and thought she had gotten over. Obviously she hadn’t. The tug was strong as ever. Abby mentally reined in her unruly emotions.
“Hello, Katie. Right this way, Mr. Murdock.” Abby led them to the bright, airy living room and motioned for them to have a seat.
Abby watched as he scanned the room for the sturdiest piece of furniture. Everything seemed dollhouse size next to him. He chose the sofa and sat cautiously as if his weight would crush the flowers in the linen pattern.
* * *
Jack Murdock balked inwardly. This whole idea went against the grain. And he hadn’t expected his potential boss would be so beautiful. Hadn’t anticipated her having the same effect on him that boiling water would have on ice cubes. But here she was. Big blue eyes, dark brown, almost auburn hair and lots of it. A face like an angel’s, but with a stubborn chin that belied her soft expression.
And she was looking at him with doubt and something else he couldn’t define. It had already been difficult enough applying for the job, hat in hand. Jack was used to taking care of himself, getting things done his way. He never had to ask for anything.
But he had to remember his number-one priority