October Kiss. Kristen Ethridge

the sidelines of a college football game.

      “Great—great.” Poppy’s enthusiasm set him at ease. There was just one more hurdle to clear. But it was the big one. “Well, let me introduce you.”

      “Okay.”

      Ryan walked to the base of the stairs and shouted upward at the kids. “Hey, guys—come and meet Poppy.”

      “Do we have to?” Zoe’s skepticism echoed from the second floor.

      “She’s your new nanny, so, yes.” Ryan’s jaw clenched. Why was his daughter being difficult?

      Zoe’s stubborn streak didn’t go away. “We don’t want a new nanny.”

      “Tell them I’m a mermaid,” Poppy whispered, leaning close to Ryan’s ear.

      He caught a slight whiff of her perfume. He thought it might have been patchouli—which seemed fitting for someone named Poppy.

      It felt ridiculous to tell the kids that their new nanny was a mythical creature. They were way too smart to believe that. But he didn’t have any better options, so he went with it as the kids stepped down to the staircase. “She’s a mermaid.”

      After a pause that felt like it could be measured in years, not seconds, the kids came down the stairs. Zoe’s low, dark pigtails gave a defiant bounce as she screeched to a halt at the landing. Zach just barely cleared his older sister’s shoulder. He kept everything but his mop of blond hair tucked behind it, as though Zoe was not just a sibling, but a defensive fort.

      “Hi.” Poppy stayed just behind Ryan as she gave a half-wave.

      Zoe rolled her eyes. If Ryan didn’t know better, he’d swear his eleven-year-old fifth-grader had fully morphed into the junior high years right before his eyes. “I told you she’s not a real mermaid.”

      “Ah, that’s Zoe.”

      “Hi, Zoe.” The chipper sound of Poppy’s voice belied any inner turmoil she might have reasonably had after the first impression Zoe just dished out.

      “Hello.” His little teen-in-training now sounded as flat as a puddle.

      “And the boy hiding behind his big sister is Zach.” Ryan tried to read his son’s face, but it remained emotionless. Only the quirk at the far end of the left eyebrow betrayed his carefully stoic appearance.

      Zach leaned over to Zoe as she whispered something behind a cupped hand. In spite of the cold shoulder she had to be feeling from the kids, Poppy forged ahead with the pleasantries.

      “Hello, Zach. You know, I’ve got a big sister, too. Her kids go to your school.”

      Without another word, the kids ran back up the stairs. Their behavior embarrassed Ryan. He knew they were just kids and that things had been awkward for so long. First, they’d lost their mother, and ever since, there’d been a constant stream of nannies. Poppy was just another face in a long line of temporary help brought in to manage the chaos.

      But Poppy didn’t know that, and he feared that the bright woman with the eager grin and shoulder-length curls would start to plot how soon she could make an exit.

      And when she did, that would upend everything. With the Yamoharo Global presentation coming up, he didn’t have time to find another nanny. He barely had time to make the introductions for this one.

      Maybe if he laughed off their sullen reactions, she’d laugh them off too. “Ha ha. Sorry. They’ll warm right up to you.”

      “That’s okay. They must have really liked their last nanny.”

      “Oh, that’s a long story…” Bless her for thinking it was that simple. Fortunately, Ryan’s phone rang before he had a chance to dig that hole and dive face-first into it. Poppy did not need to know the truth of Zach and Zoe’s feelings about Barbara Lewis, the last nanny. He still remained grateful that the 911 dispatcher on duty that evening had a sense of humor. The nanny didn’t, but under the circumstances, that was understandable.

      He saw the call was from Jean, his assistant. Ryan didn’t even have to hear any of her words to know he was going to be late for his next meeting. “I’m on my way.”

      Ryan didn’t really want to just throw Poppy to the wolves—kids, he corrected himself—but nannying was her job. And he had more than enough of his own job to worry about at this moment. Surely, Poppy would be fine with the kids. They just needed to get used to her. He slid his phone into his left pocket. “Okay, we good to go?”

      “Yeah. All nannied up!” Once again, Poppy reminded him of a cheerleader. Maybe this would be okay. His kids needed some cheer in their lives.

      Honestly, it would have to be okay. He didn’t have any time between now and the presentation at the end of the month to solve another nanny or child crisis. He just needed to get to the office, hope for the best, and let Poppy and the kids sort out Poppy-and-the-kids kinds of things.

      “Great. I don’t usually work Sundays but this is a crazy week, so…” Ryan opened the hall closet and grabbed out his briefcase and a light jacket. “Emergency numbers are on the fridge. Here are these…” He handed Poppy a set of house keys and a credit card to use for activities.

      Then, he looked around and lowered his voice. He might be leaving the Poppy-and-the-kids kinds of things to Poppy and the kids, but he did know one covert weapon that would definitely help Poppy in the process. “And the secret password is ‘pumpkinhead’…for now.”

      “Got it,” Poppy said, with an obviously false confidence which confirmed to his ears that she had no idea what he was talking about. It didn’t matter—he had to go. He’d just have to let her figure it out.

      “Have a good one.” Ryan hoped that his sentiment wasn’t just a false hope.

      She took off her jacket and tossed it over the top of the newel post. “Yeah, you too.”

      “Thanks.” Ryan took off for the front door before the kids could realize he was leaving. Once again, his phone started to ring. He reached in his pocket and started to answer out of habit without even thinking about who was on the other end of the line or what he was saying. “Hello…yes, this is—”

      He just needed to make it to the end of the month. Right now, everything was a blur.

      Well, everything except the twinkle in Poppy Summerall’s blue eyes when she smiled.

      Ryan could see that in his mind’s eye very clearly.

      Chapter Two

      The kids may not have taken to her, but Poppy was committed. Well, at least temporarily.

      However, in order to make it through the next month, Poppy knew she’d have to get the kids on her side. She thought of the rough-and-tumble fun she’d had with her nephews while she’d been staying with them. If she could just get through to Zoe and Zach, there would be fun in the Larson house, too.

      As Poppy walked up the stairs, her eyes locked on a smiling family portrait framed and hanging on the wall. She clearly recognized Ryan and the kids in the frame—although the kids were much younger. Zach looked barely old enough to qualify for toddlerhood. He sat on the lap of a woman with shoulder-length blonde hair. That must have been Ryan’s wife.

      Sadness tugged at Poppy’s heart. Sadness for the woman who wouldn’t get to see her kids grow up. Sadness for the man who wouldn’t get to grow old with the woman he’d married. Sadness for the kids who would only know their mother through stories.

      None of those emotions surprised her.

      But what did surprise her was the last fleeting twist of those emotions that whispered to her, You’d better figure out this commitment thing for real, Poppy, or you’ll never have anything like this…