Page 39 of A Dream for Daphne

Daphne said she didn’t mind, but he did.

Maybe he had to get over it himself, but it was hard to when he had memories of Ella never wanting to see him until he’d showered after work.

He drove home with the music blaring and trying to wipe out shitty memories and replace them with what could be.

He parked in the driveway and started his daily routine of boots at the door, hat off his head, then into the bathroom to strip and wash more than once.

Once he’d applied more deodorant and ran his hands through his damp hair, he walked to his room with a towel around his waist, found a change of clothes, and got dressed.

He didn’t bother to look around his room much. It’s not like he’d be bringing Daphne up here just yet. It was clean enough for now.

Since he’d cleaned yesterday before she’d come over, there wasn’t much more he had to do. He wasn’t that messy of a guy, but he did sweep quickly to catch any dirt he might have brought in.

He was opening a bottle of water when he heard a car door on the side of his house and walked over to look out the window.

There was Daphne, dressed the same in her navy shorts that showed a lot of her legs, a yellow and white T-shirt, and her hair down where it’d been in a ponytail when they’d been talking earlier.

He liked that she was more on the simple and casual side. Not someone that needed hours to get ready.

He wouldn’t have had a problem if she was someone like that, but was just as happy she wasn’t.

He moved to the front door and opened it for her, then took the bag out of her hands.

“Come in,” he said.

“Thanks,” she said. “I think I got everything.”

“We’ll make do either way,” he said. “I’m not a fussy eater, least of all if I’m not cooking it.”

“So I could tell by your grocery cart,” she said.

He tapped her on the nose. “You’ve got a great personality if I haven’t said it before.”

“You have,” she said. “But it’s nice to hear it. I hate to think I need validation or anything. Or don’t want you to think that.”

“I don’t,” he said. “I think you’re in a new place and trying to find your way. I think you’re a confident person.”

“Nope,” she said, interrupting him.

“So it was a front the first time we met?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow. She held his stare and then they walked to the back of the house and into the kitchen.

He heard her sigh but wasn’t watching her face.

“Not a front. I’m not sure what it was. I didn’t go there thinking to do that. I’m not sure I’ve ever in my life thought I’d do something like that.”

“And we aren’t going to think negative of it anymore, right?” he asked.

“Sure, we can say that,” she said, snickering.

He’d take it for now.

“Why do you think you’re not confident?”

“Maybe because I’ve never had much of a life,” she said. “Not outside of work. I’ve spent so much of my life in jobs where people talk down to you if they even see you. Most times I’m invisible. And when I did date, it wasn’t like it was anything special. Or I never felt special. I think I started to believe it was me. Or is something wrong with me? When it comes to my job, yes, I am confident in my ability to do a good job. Being a nanny isn’t glamorous, but I love it. I’m good with kids.”

“Those who don’t think being a nanny is hard are probably the same who think it about my job. And you know what I think of those people?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “What?”

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