Page 50 of Mended Hearts

My laugh caught in my throat. “Yeah, well, it’s gonna take a bulldog to deal with her shit,” I said, dipping my chin in her direction. If Leighton could handle Greyson fucking Hart, Carly didn’t stand a chance.

“I mean, she lasted longer than I thought she would and—oh. Oh.” Leigh stepped back, brain catching up. “Ollie, I…”

“Need a job,” I finished. “One that doesn’t make you work twice as hard to barely scrape by. AndIneed someone I won’t have to replace in three months. Someone who can handle overnights when I travel, unpredictable hours, who won’t drive me up a wall on family trips. Someone I trust to get the kids to practices, therapy, classes—without me picking my cuticles bloody from anxiety. Honestly, you’d be doing me a colossal favor.”

“Ollie, I don’t have any childcare experience.”

I huffed a humorless laugh. “Leighton, I’m not looking for a degree—I’m looking for someone who will love my kids the way they deserve. And it certainly helps that they’re both head over heels for you. Plus, you’re the only one who can keep Carly from running off the next poor soul I hire. Between the two of you, my money’s on you every time.”

She bit her lip, brows drawn. “Ollie?—”

“The pay’s decent. But honestly, name your price. I’d sign the check, even if it was highway robbery.”

“Okay, hold up.” She hiked a thumb over her shoulder, cocking a hip. “This morning, I tell you I don’t want your money. That I’ll figure it out. And now you’re going allPrince Phillipcharging the gates? I’m not in a coma, Ollie—I meant what I said.”

Shit. Treading dangerously close to disaster here.

I shook my head. “We’re not talking about a handout. You made your point—perfectly. But you’d be amazed what you could accomplish if you just accepted a little help.”

“‘You’ and ‘help’ in the same sentence is a natural oxymoron.”

“So is ‘self-made man,’ but that’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point? Because you’re threatening my appetite and that’s dangerous business when Alice has spent all day?—”

“I’m offering you an honest-to-god nine-to-five—well, seven-thirty to seven. Plus some weekends. And travel. And you’re pretty much always on call, but… same difference.”

“You’re fucking serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

Her eyes narrowed. Whoops. Poor word choice.

“Listen, Trouble. I just need them with someone I trust. And the list is short.”

“How short?” she asked, her voice uncharacteristically soft.

I flashed her a crooked smile. The one that got me invited back into more houses than I cared to admit. “One candidateshort.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Yes. ‘Yes’ would make my life infinitely better.”

She chewed on her lower lip. I stuffed my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching out and freeing it. “Didn’t Oaklyn live with you?”

“You can have her old room. I don’t need help cleaning or anything. I won’t bug you during off hours?—”

She shook her head, and my stomach sank.

“Ollie, I’m sorry. But I can’t work for you. Let alonelivewith you.”

My shoulders sagged. “Why the hell not?”

She arched a brow. “I think you’re perfectly capable of answering that question.”

“I swear to be a perfect gentleman.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” She sighed. “Seeing you every day, being under the same roof, taking care of sick kids, bumping into each other at events… It’s a terrible, horrible, very bad, no good idea.”

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