Page 15 of The Au Pair Affair

She hung a right out of the refrigerated section and came face-to-face with an endcap full of peanut butter jars. As if she needed a reminder of Burgess taking a sip from her smoothie that morning. She’d only been thinking about itsince it happened. During her meeting with her counselor, the woman’s mouth had beenmoving, but no sounds were registering, because every last one of Tallulah’s thoughts were on those strong white teeth. How they’d yanked on the paper straw, somehow contracting muscles in her tummy that hadn’t been exercised in far too long. That imagery was plenty distracting on its own, but throw in the flex of his throat as he swallowed, his eye contact intentional, curious, and the memories had caused her to leave the air-conditioned administration building flushed head to toe.

Now she hadtworeasons not to take the au pair position.

One: she didn’t want to live in a constant state of worry that Burgess’s temper might extend beyond the ice, an invisible boil just below the surface.

Two: she suddenly wanted to know if he’d use those same teeth to take her panties off.

The combination was alarming, to say the least. To be attracted to a man without knowing exactly what lay under his hood. Although, did anyone ever truly know what was lurking inside of someone? No, right? She’d been tricked before.

The monster had hidden himself so well.Sowell.

Tallulah tore her unseeing eyes off the peanut butter and headed for produce. She’d already picked up the chicken. Now she threw a green pepper, an onion, a lemon, and a garlic bulb into her basket. A potato, too, which wasnotpart of her mother’s Saksuka recipe and would probably get her disowned, but the call of carbs drowned out the shame. Hopefully Burgess had a few basics in his kitchen, like cooking oil, sugar, and vinegar, or she’d have to send him knocking on his neighbors’ doors.

At the cash register, she paid for the ingredients, wrapping her arms around the big brown paper bag and stepping out into the Boston evening. And she had to admit, she liked Burgess’s neighborhood. A lot. People-watching in parks was kind of her thing, as it was free, relaxing entertainment, and there were plenty of green spaces in Beacon Hill. Burgess lived right down the roadfrom a giant public park, not to mention one of the original selling points of the job had been the rooftop garden on his building.

Streetlights were beginning to flicker on, along with gas lamp posts, lanterns adorning stoops of three- and four-story brick buildings. Green ivy clung to the sides of every other structure, mums peeking out of immaculately painted flower boxes, brightening every residence. A lot of people living on the first floor didn’t even bother with blinds, so she could see them through their windows as she passed, kids doing their homework at the kitchen table. Lissa would probably be doing the same right now. Would Burgess be helping her?

A postbox on the corner jogged Tallulah’s memory and she stopped in her tracks, setting down the sack of ingredients on the sidewalk. She reached into the pocket of her coat and took out the postcard she’d snagged earlier that day in the more touristy section of town. On it was a picture of Quincy Market and scripted words that readGreetings from Boston. She read over the short message she’d penned to her sister, Lara, along with the Istanbul address she knew by heart. A lump began welling in her throat, but she dropped the card into the slot before tears could form in her eyes and continued on.

She didn’t stop again until she reached the corner across the street from Burgess’s building, her gaze traveling up to the top floor. She didn’t actually expect to see anyone, so she almost dropped the bag of groceries when she caught Burgess’s outline in the window, a Goliath-sized figure pacing back and forth, a phone pressed to his ear. And oh lord, she couldn’t pretend away the pressing fist of attraction beneath her belly button.

Since the incident that took place during her final year of undergrad, Tallulah had found it very difficult to abandon herself to chemical attraction. Or even experience the feeling. Appreciating men for what they could offer her physically had never been an issue in the past. Not at all. She’dlovedmen, prior to her stringof internships around the globe. Flirting, too. The excitement and pleasure of a biological reaction to a stranger. That buildup of tension, the snap of release. Now when she ventured out to socialize, her nervous system went on high alert around men. She couldn’t function, worrying she wasn’t seeing the whole picture. Wondering what they werereallylike. And most importantly, what they were capable of.

She wanted freedom from the fear. Badly. Over time, she’d hoped that either she would overcome it or someone would simply strike her as different. Trustworthy.Nota monster.

Why did her libido have to make its illustrious return with her potential boss?

Like, comeon.

A whole lot of complications could arise while living with a man she wanted to saddle up and ride. For one, he had a kid. Their age gap was notable. Tallulah wanted to get back to living, to making the most out of her twenties. Not settle down. No, thanks. She’d spent years hiding on research missions, but it was time to start fulfilling the promise she’d made to her sister, Lara, who’d been there to witness the incident and see Tallulah in pieces of emotional wreckage. Pieces that had taken a long time gluing themselves back together to form a whole.

Now was the time to get out anddo.

Until she started keeping her word, she’d continue communicating to Lara through postcards. They made it so much easier to delay the disappointment—or worse, the pity—she knew she’d hear in Lara’s voice if she ever got the courage to call.

One hurdle at a time, though—and tonight was a big one. Six-foot-three, to be exact.

“It’s just dinner,” Tallulah said on an exhale, glancing left down the one-way street before crossing. The doorman gestured her through the entrance with a broad smile, like he’d been expecting her, and she rode the elevator up to the top, steppingout—and halting in her tracks at the sound of the argument coming from Burgess’s apartment.

“Hang up, Dad! It’s not going to help.”

“I can’t just do nothing, Lissa.”

“Yes, you can! Oh my God, you’re making it so much worse.”

Tallulah took one hesitant step. Then another. And stopped. Did she really want to get involved here? Because she wasn’t a fly-by-night kind of person. Once she got involved, she stayed there. This was only supposed to be dinner. A chance to pass on some words of encouragement to Lissa and maybe—and that was a teeny-tiny maybe—reconsider the job offer. But Tallulah’s instincts were telling her there wasn’t going to be anything casual about inserting herself here. Did she want to do that, considering her misgivings?

A gulping tween sob from inside the apartment propelled Tallulah forward, her sympathy making the decision for her. Propping the groceries on one hip, she rapped hard on the door three times. Silence greeted her from the other side.

Footsteps.

A scowling Burgess opened the door holding a phone to his ear, feet bare, hair wet, dressed in black sweatpants and a white T-shirt with the Bearcats logo emblazoned across the front. “I wasn’t going to be wearing this when you got here. But shit happened.”

“I can hear the shit from the hallway.”

He closed his eyes briefly, before settling them on the brown paper bag she held. “What’s in there?”

“Ingredients for Saksuka and some lemon chicken.”

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