Page 117 of The Nanny and the Nerd
“What was that?” Penny asked, patting the child’s shoulder.
Phoebe turned to him. “I thought you took Penny to the island to marry her as a surprise for me. I wanted to be here when you got back.”
“To marry her?” he echoed, but he shouldn’t be surprised his niece would come up with this conclusion. The kid was sharp. She didn’t miss much. The three of them had spent so much time together over the last few weeks, he could see how the child would make that connection. And no one could miss the bond between Penny and Phoebe. He couldn’t blame his niece. He’d fallen ass over elbow for the nanny, too.
Phoebe nodded. “I thought you’d come back and be my mom and dad. We could be a real family like most of the kids in my school.”
He stared at his niece. She had Andrew’s smile and Melanie’s wit. Those two had been stellar parents. They came to it naturally. How the hell was he supposed to compete with that? As much as he tried to pretend he could fill their shoes, he couldn’t. Not even close.
Penny caressed the child’s cheek. “Phoebe, you have a mommy and a daddy who loved you very much.”
The child wiggled out of his embrace and clung to Penny, nuzzling into her lap. “But I don’t remember them. All I have are pictures. And you could do it, Penny. You could be my mom. Uncle Row can marry you,” the child said, her hopeful eyes shining.
“Your mom and dad loved you, Phoebe. They were your parents. But I’ll always be your uncle. That will never change,” he said, his voice turning monotone. And dammit, he couldn’t help it! He couldn’t allow the flood of emotion to overtake him. Not when he had to be steady and hold it together.
“Then you could make Penny my aunt. That’s super-duper close to being a mom and a dad. You could do that, Uncle Row,” Phoebe pleaded with tears threatening to fall again as the emotional tsunami rising inside him grew stronger. But he had to hold it in by whatever means possible.
“Your uncle and I will always care about you, sweetheart,” Penny said, and all he could do was nod.
Penelope turned to him, confusion marring her expression. She wanted him to say something, to give Phoebe the reassurance she needed. And dammit! He should. But that wasn’t how his mind worked. The words didn’t come for situations as emotionally complex as this. And he’d done the one thing he could. He’d gone blank. It had been a while since he’d turned into a stoneman. Surely, Penelope had noticed the shift. She gave him the hint of a smile, trying to crack his facade. But not even the beguiling nanny could penetrate his muted countenance.
Jerome’s phone pinged again, and the knot in his stomach, the knot that had been there since they’d gotten the first text, twisted in his gut as a sickening sensation passed over him. He glanced at his assistant, who’d turned a shade of dishwater gray and looked ready to lose his lunch.
Something had happened. He was right. That premonition he’d had after he and Penelope had made love wasn’t his mind being bombarded by sensory overload.
“Honey, I understand you wanted to surprise us,” Penelope said gently, pulling his attention back to his niece. “But it’s not safe down here alone at nighttime—especially when no one knows where you are.”
Phoebe was back to gulping air. “I had a light, but I dropped it when it started raining. I didn’t mean to lose all of them. They were floating before it started to rain. I promise. I promise, Uncle Row,” the child exclaimed before dissolving into sobs.
He could barely breathe. She’d been warned about being careful with his things. And he thought they’d turned a corner. At Penelope’s suggestion, he’d even relaxed the rules. His posture grew rigid as he put two and two together. In his work and in his private life, he’d relinquished control of many,too many, facets of his life.
A mistake.
“Phoebe, what did you use for the experiment,” he barked as a piece of paper flapping in the breeze pinned beneath his niece’s box of crayons caught his attention. The child followed his gaze, then burrowed her head into the crook of Penelope’s neck and released a howl of a cry.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. He understood the reason for her fresh tears.
He picked up the pile of clutter and went through the stack. Page upon page featured dominoes, his dominoes, floating atop the water. She’d even remembered to include the detail of his old initials, RT,Rowen Teagues, on each of the tiles.
“Are there any left?” he asked, his voice void of emotion.
“Just the wooden box, Uncle Row,” she wept.
“And the Game Boy?” he pressed, glaring at the papers.
“It got slippery from the rain, and I dropped it,” she sniffled as Jerome’s phone emitted a cacophony of damned beeps.
Rowen tried to focus on something neutral, but between the crying and the beeping, his heart hammered in his chest. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him. They were waiting, waiting to see what he’d do, what he’d say. His stony expression must have given away his extreme discontent.
“The Game Boy and the dominoes are just things, right, Rowen? Phoebe made a mistake. She clearly feels awful about it,” Penelope offered, her eyes begging him to agree.
Agitation invaded every cell in his body. He couldn’t answer Penelope’s question. Yes, they were just things, material objects. But she knew what those items meant to him. They were the bridge to the one good thing in his life before he lost his father. Thesethingswere his connection to the nameless stranger—the one person who’d shown him kindness during those dark days—hopeless, grueling days where he didn’t have a shred of control, days where he’d been forced to depend on the undependable.
But not anymore.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Row,” Phoebe said, her voice cracking as Jerome’s phone lit up again, beeping and ringing like he had the damned Fourth of July in his pocket.
Rowen stiffened. The ring of the cell cut into him like lashes. His assistant silenced the phone, but it was the last straw.
