In a deliberately measured voice, she said, “As I mentioned before, it wasn’t just you. I’m the one who kissed you first last night. And I won’t regret what we did.” A muscle jumped in his jaw as he listened, and she had to wonder if he might be equally frustrated. “In any case,” she made herself continue, “I want to reassure you that what happened between us hasn’t changed anything about my dedication to Noah or this job.”
He looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I know you’d never walk away from us.” He grimaced as if he’d said the wrong thing. “From Noah, I mean. And I’m the one who needs to reassure you. You should know how much I want you to be Noah’s nanny. Last night didn’t change that.”
She swallowed hard, working to keep her emotions leashed as she nodded to let him know she understood. Last night he’d told her how much he wanted her, and not just for his son. Twenty-four hours later, they were back to square one.
The only square they were allowed to stand in, it seemed.
The silence lay heavily between them before he finally broke it. “It’s late. I should let you go to bed.” The word alone hung unspoken in the air. “Good night, Ari.”
She’d known from the start that fantasies were all she could ever have, so she made herself say, “Good night, Matt,” and walk away.
* * *
Matt poured himself another finger of scotch. He didn’t need it, but if he didn’t do something with his hands and mouth, he’d follow Ari upstairs and put them all over her.
He couldn’t believe he’d told her about Natural Born Killers. What the hell must she think of him now, after Irene had descended like a phantom of all that could go wrong—and then he’d started spilling about his parents?
It had been his birthday. Matt had wanted to see The Mask with Jim Carrey. He remembered sitting in that movie theater with his parents, his eyes squeezed shut against all the blood, the casual death, and he’d actually been ashamed. His dad had punched his arm hard when he realized Matt’s eyes were closed, and hissed, “I’m not wasting all that money on a movie for you to sit there with your eyes closed, ya little weenie.” His father continued to pinch him every time he thought Matt’s eyes were closed.
Sissy. Weenie. You could learn a lesson here about sticking up for yourself.
And while his mother hadn’t said a word, she’d closed her eyes during all the gore too.
She’d died of cancer a couple of years ago. He’d paid for her care, her hospital bills, and for the house payments after his father’s death—but she’d never asked Matt’s forgiveness for the role she’d played in his upbringing. A mother’s job was to protect her children, but she hadn’t even tried. She’d never even asked to meet Noah. On her deathbed, she’d laid claim to turning Matt into the man he was—how everything they’d said, everything they’d done had toughened him up, prepared him for life, for success.
But the only thing they’d prepared him for was survival. He’d somehow managed to survive his parents, but it was Susan and Bob who’d prepared him for life, who’d hugged him the way his parents never had. After that birthday, he’d stayed at Daniel’s more frequently. He’d never actually moved in—his father would never let him go—but more often than not, he was underfoot at the Spencers’. And the Mavericks had become his family.
He was blessed to have Noah and the Mavericks and Susan and Bob. He’d betrayed not only Ari’s trust by taking her to bed, he’d also betrayed his family’s trust in him to do the right thing.
What’s more, Ari was sweet, kind, and so good for Noah. So no matter how badly Matt wanted her, he couldn’t afford to lose her by crossing that line with her.
Ever again.
Chapter Thirteen
Sunday was Cookie’s day off, as well as Ari’s. But instead of heading out right away to see her friends, Ari ate breakfast with Matt and Noah.
“Can I break the eggs?” Noah was asking Matt at the stove as Ari pushed through the swinging door.
“I don’t want you to get too close to the stove in case the bacon fat spits on you. Why don’t you sit at the counter with Ari?”
Noah climbed up beside her, and she pushed the pitcher to him so he could pour himself a glass of juice. She half expected Matt to say the juice pitcher was too heavy for him. Noah clearly wanted to help, and he could have broken the eggs without getting anywhere near the bacon. But Matt tended to be overly cautious.
She chatted with Noah about his favorite cartoon, while Matt drained the bacon and scrambled the eggs. Then he finally sat at the counter beside them.
“Do you have big plans for the day?” he asked in a voice that was far too polite, especially considering how intimate they’d been.
She told herself she’d eventually get used to it. After her heart mended.
But not only were they acting as if Friday’s lovemaking had never happened, Noah didn’t say a word about his mother either, as though there’d been no visit from Irene yesterday. Ari had even removed the bandage from his forehead. New day, new attitude. If it didn’t feel right that they were all shoving too much under the rug…well, Ari shoved that feeling under the rug too.
“I’m going to visit Rosie and Jorge.”
“Jorge’s fun,” Noah said as he pushed his scrambled eggs around his plate as though he were excavating.
“Sounds like a great day.”
She hated how forced Matt’s smile seemed. God, any minute now they’d start talking about the weather.
“What about you two?” she asked.
Matt looked at Noah. “We’ll figure something out. Whatever we do, at least we’ve got great weather, don’t we?”
She barely held in her wince at his mention of the weather as Noah nodded, then shoveled his eggs onto his fork and chewed with big bites.
She wanted to make suggestions for them. And she wanted to go with them. But she wasn’t family—she was just the nanny.
After finishing her eggs, she laid her napkin on the table. “Thanks for breakfast. Can I help with the dishes?”
Matt waved her offer away. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it. Enjoy your day.”
When he didn’t ask her to change her plans to hang out with them instead, a sharp pang in her chest said she wasn’t totally in control of her dreams. All those times she’d let go of foster families or old boyfriends hadn’t actually been all that hard. But with Matt…