Page 80 of The Nanny and the Hothead
“It looks like he’s out for the count,” she said, not sure what to do or what to say. It was the first time it had been the two of them since…since they’d made love in the tent.
“You’re good with him,” Mitch said, his voice barely a whisper.
“It’s easy. He’s a great kid,” she answered. She turned off the lamp, allowing the nightlight near the doorway to provide a gentle pool of golden light. “We should let him sleep, Mitch. He’s got a big day tomorrow.”
“You could say the same for us,” he added.
He was right. Their first day in the food truck was tomorrow. A ripple of anticipation passed through her. Or was it nerves? Or was it excitement?
It didn’t matter what emotion was tangled in with her reaction. It was work, and she needed it. He followed her into the darkened hallway and closed Oscar’s door. She twisted the hair tie around her wrist as an awkward stretch of silence engulfed the space. What should she do? Say good night and head to her room? Suggest they chat about tomorrow’s schedule?
Luckily, Mitch broke the silence.
“I shouldn’t have made that comment about you twisting yourself into a pretzel for me,” he confessed in the haze of darkness.
“Is that an apology?” she asked, unable to hide the surprise in her voice.
He exhaled a heavy breath. “It’s about as close to one as you’re going to get with me.”
Under the veil of darkness, she smiled. She couldn’t help it. “If we’re offering up quasi-apologies, I shouldn’t have dropped the whole back-to-the-beginning food truck idea in front of your publisher without mentioning it to you first. It just came to me.”
He took a step toward her, and her pulse kicked up. “You know it’s a good idea. You were there, Charlotte. You saw how Gwen and Ines reacted.”
“And don’t forget Madelyn. She’s the reason you’re stuck with me.” She was trying to play it off as a joke, but Mitch didn’t react—didn’t move a muscle.
“Madelyn wasn’t wrong,” he answered, the low rumble of his words scrambling her brain.
“About what?” she whispered.
“About you, Charlotte, you are perfect.” His words floated around her like an embrace.
She closed her eyes, desperate to stop the onslaught of tingles and delicious shivers that took over whenever this man focused his complete attention on her. “I am?” she breathed.
Mitch’s entire demeanor stiffened. The energy pulsed between them before the man stepped back, defusing the charge. “For the work. You’re the perfect choice to act as my photographer and my assistant in the truck,” he clarified, the rigid words coming out in an uneasy tumble.
“That’s what I figured you meant,” she lied, then nervously twisted the hair tie around her wrist. The poor thing was sure to snap if she kept this up. She worked to clear her thoughts. “Do you need me?” She shook her head. “Do you need anything more from me tonight?” she corrected. Andgah! It was like she was trying to make this exchange as cringeworthy as possible.
He crossed his arms, then uncrossed them as if he didn’t know quite what to do with the appendages. “If you have a minute, I thought I’d show you around Louise.”
“Sure,” she exclaimed, infusing ten times too much enthusiasm into the syllable.
Putting aside that she sounded like she’d pounded a case of energy drinks, his suggestion was a good one. This was her job. And as much as she loved eating the food from food trucks, she’d never paid much attention to what was going on inside of them.
“Lead the way,” she chirped like an eager cruise director. Luckily, Mitch seemed as off-balance as she felt and didn’t comment on her psychotically chipper tone. She followed him down the grand staircase, then out into the night air as the whir of a plane passing overhead slipped into the low hum of nature’s nighttime soundtrack.
Mitch looked up as the plane disappeared past the tree line. “Could that be your Mr. Cheesy Forever?” he asked, and she nearly fell over.
Fourteen
Charlotte
Charlotte gasped.Thank God it was dark because the guy would have seen her eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.
“What did you say?” she stammered.
He did that uneasy arm thing where he crossed, then uncrossed his arms. “After all those margaritas, you told me planes make you think of Mr. Cheesy Forever. Why is that? Who is that?”
Curse those potent drinks!
