Page 19 of Third Time Lucky

He’s full of surprises. “It doesn’t sound like you have to worry about what Rue will think down the road. That’s the start of your story. You saved her memories for her. Honored them and her mother. Now she gets to grow up knowing she was loved by both her parents. That she wasn’t abandoned or left behind by anyone.”

He leans forward, immediately defensive. “I’d never abandon my child.”

“You say that like it doesn’t happen all the time. You didn’t even consider it, did you? Signing away your rights.”

“Hell no.” He narrows his eyes, scanning my face. “Do you see that a lot? I’d think anyone going nanny shopping isn’t planning on dumping their kid at the nearest bus stop.”

I swallow hard. He’s too observant. “No. Most of our clients are wonderful parents.”

Many of them might be divorced or single, like Elliot, but they’re all devoted. If they weren’t, I’d be their worst nightmare.

His story might have hit too close to home. My mother died when I was only a little older than his daughter. My biological father was…nothing like Elliot.

Someone else might want you, but I sure as hell don’t.

I push myself to my feet clumsily. “I don’t mean to cut this short, but I should go take on those boxes while I still can.”

Elliot follows me with a kind of ease and grace I can’t help but admire. “I see it now.”

“See what?”

Why is he so close? Looking into my eyes like that?

It doesn’t mean what you think it means.

“The nanny thing,” he says, unknowingly bursting the bubble around us.

Told you.

“I couldn’t wrap my head around it before, but I get it now. You’ve got a way.”

I swallow again, pushing down my disappointment. “A way?”

He waggles his fingers. “You know.”

I stare at his hand dully. “Magic? Finger puppets? What exactly are you doing with those?”

He snorts and shakes his head. “I’m shit at talking about things, which is why I rarely do. And I can count on one hand the people who know about Rue. But with you, it all came tumbling out. Easy as breathing.” His lips curve. “And I feel better, so maybe it is magic. I can’t wait for you to meet my daughter. She’s going to love you.”

Because of my way.

With kids.

That’s all he meant.

“I’m looking forward to it.” I’m mildly depressed and sexually frustrated, but I’m not lying. “Thanks for the song.”

“Thanks for the soda.” He looks like he wants to say more, but then he claps his hands on my shoulders instead, squeezing with those strong, dexterous fingers. “I’m really glad I didn’t break anything.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

He lets go of me and, in a burst of energy that has his arms bulging and my jaw heading for the first floor, he leaps over my railing and sticks the landing back on his side like an Olympic gymnast. He even raises his hands over his head like he’s Simone friggin’ Biles.

I can’t resist. “That’s a solid ten from the judges for not going full kabob.”

I hear him laugh and he waves without turning back around, grabbing his phone and guitar before disappearing into the apartment next door. Leaving me alone and feeling like I’ve survived a whirlwind.

So that happened.

---