It Began with a Crush. Lilian Darcy

girl and a nanny.

      It was just possible that some kind of informal vacation day camp might be arranged out of all this, and it was also just possible that if Mary Jane pulled strings for Joe, on behalf of his girls, she might not feel quite so indebted to him and his father for the fact that she’d crashed their car today, while to punish her in return, they were giving her dinner.

      Already, she felt drawn into their lives. Should she be holding back, instead?

      “I’d have to ask a few questions before I’d have any details for you,” she said slowly. “Wouldn’t want to get your hopes up.”

      “Already done that, I’m afraid,” Joe mouthed at her on a drawl, because Holly and Maddie were looking at her as if stars shone out of her eyes.

      Mary Jane winced, and mouthed back, “Sorry,” and they shared another look. His mouth tucked itself in at the corner, and the expression in his eyes was so complicated she couldn’t work it out at all but wanted to solve everything for him anyhow. Her self-control seemed to be lying in a melted pool at her feet, and there was no going back now.

      She knew she was in serious trouble.

      Serious, horrible, embarrassing trouble, in the space of a few hours.

      Over “Cap” Capelli from high school, and two adorable seven-year-old girls.

      Chapter Four

      Joe dropped her back at Spruce Bay almost immediately after dinner. Mary Jane insisted on that. “I’m sure you have a lot to do, Joe.” He hadn’t let her help with cleaning up, and she’d had to content herself with rinsing off a few plates and putting them in the dishwasher.

      He didn’t argue about dropping her home, and on the drive they talked about the car.

      Cars.

      Hers and the one belonging to Capelli Auto.

      “I’m sorry we don’t have a second car to offer you,” he told her.

      “I’m glad you don’t, because I wouldn’t take it. I’ll organize a rental. And I will cover the deductible on the insurance.”

      “We’ll talk about that.”

      “We’re talking about it now, and it’s decided.”

      “Well, no, because it’s possible you have some bargaining power,” he said. “There might be something from you that I want, that I would be more than happy to exchange for the deductible on the insurance.”

      Was he talking about—

      “I mean,” he went on very quickly, “the pony camp thing.”

      So, no. He wasn’t talking about her selling him her body. Just to be clear.

      What is wrong with you, Mary Jane?

      As if she didn’t already know.

      “You gave me the impression that pony camp would be a special deal with the owner, is what I’m saying,” Joe explained. “So if you can help me organize that, put in a word, or arrange a meeting, or whatever it takes, then it’ll hugely help with the girls this summer, and you certainly won’t owe me for the car thing.”

      “I’ll call Penelope tomorrow, and talk to the Richardsons about it, too.” She’d told Joe about them, and their kids and nanny.

      “And call me as soon as you know if we can work something out?”

      “Of course.”

      “I’m sorry, I’m nagging you about this as much as the girls would, but at the moment Dad and I are running the garage and looking after the girls between us, and I can already see that it’s going to be too much for Dad.”

      “Of course. They’re adorable, but full of energy.” It sounded inadequate. All she really knew about kids came from the ones who stayed at Spruce Bay. Some of those could be pretty obnoxious, and it was a testament to the yearning in her heart that she still wanted babies, lots of babies, even when she’d seen that they didn’t always stay cute for long.

      Joe’s girls were definitely cute. What was this really about in her heart? The man or the girls? If they had a mother... If she was only away for a few days, and it was only by chance that she hadn’t come up in conversation...

      Maybe this man and his family were completely out of bounds, and even if they weren’t...

      I’m scaring myself, feeling like this so fast.

      “He’ll be stubborn about it if I just try to send them off to some kind of commercial day care,” Joe was saying. “He doesn’t think that’s good enough. But a pony camp would be their dream come true, and after—” He stopped and muttered something under his breath. “You don’t need the detail.”

      “No, it’s fine.” She would take all the detail he wanted to give her. She would listen with all her heart.

      Not good. Very, very bad.

      She waited to see if he would say more, and when he didn’t, her disappointment was yet another danger signal on a rapidly lengthening list. She wanted to know everything about him, and she wanted to hear it from him, in his dark, husk-and-syrup voice, and that was scary.

      Crushy. Desperate. Something to beat herself up over, not to embrace.

      They emerged from the tree-lined Spruce Bay entrance drive and reached the parking area in front of the office, where he halted, leaving the engine idling. “Thank you so much for everything today,” she told him, deliberately formal. “For the car, and coming to pick me up, and then dinner. If I can arrange the pony thing, it still won’t be nearly enough.”

      “Fuggedaboutit,” he said, like a character in a mafia movie, and not for the first time she found herself wondering why he’d never succeeded as an actor, the way he’d once been so sure he would. He had the looks, the voice and more charisma than any woman could possibly want.

      “I’ll call you about the pony thing as soon as I have some information,” she said.

      “Great.”

      “Right. Bye, then.”

      She was so determined not to linger in the car that she scrambled out of it with embarrassing haste, and he drove off at once, with just one final wave. After he’d disappeared back into the trees, she stood there for too long, feeling dreamy and unsettled and full of longing and absolutely, completely furious with herself.

      The furious part was pretty familiar, and she knew how to handle it. When your thoughts kept steering onto a track that you didn’t want, you just had to keep busy enough that they went away purely through being crowded out of existence.

      She bustled through the office door and found Nickie fiddling with her manicure and talking on her phone, slouched back in the swivel chair with her knees drawn up and bumping the desk. “She wants to? Are you serious?” she was saying in teenager shriek.

      So, not talking to a guest, then.

      When she saw Mary Jane, she quickly ended the call and smartened up her body language, as if she thought she was about to get yelled at. It was almost more annoying than if she’d kept on talking to her friend, because it gave the impression that she considered Mary Jane to be a dragon of a boss.

      “Busy?” Mary Jane asked lightly.

      “Cabin 12 flooded their bathroom, and Room 4 couldn’t get their air-conditioning to turn on.”

      “That’s probably because the air-conditioning couldn’t work out if it was supposed to be blowing hot air or cold,” Mary Jane drawled. The new reverse-cycle appliances installed during the re-fit could do both. Even though it was a little chilly out now, the cabins had been warmed by the sun most of the day. They should have been cozy but not too hot, and certainly not too cold.

      “I know, right?” Nickie rolled