A Nanny Under the Mistletoe. Raye Morgan

as such I will make sure she has everything she ever needs, but don’t call it family because I don’t know how a family is supposed to behave.” He met her gaze and there were shadows in his own.

      “Ben and Charity believed otherwise or you wouldn’t be Morgan’s guardian.”

      “A past like mine makes their judgment questionable.”

      “What happened to you?” she asked.

      “My father died when I was a boy. A little older than Morgan.”

      “I’m sorry,” she said automatically.

      “Don’t be. It was a long time ago.”

      “Even so…” She thought for a moment. “It would seem that a loss like that would make you more sympathetic to what Morgan is going through—”

      He held up a hand to stop her. “What I know is Ben and Charity meant for me to provide for Morgan’s material needs. He was my friend and knew me and my limitations and he still asked me to take her. So I’m prepared to pay the bills.” He stood, signaling an end to the discussion. “Is there anything else?”

      “I’ll let you know.”

      He nodded. “Then I’ll say good night.”

      When he was gone the chill in the morning room made Libby shiver, a feeling fueled by sympathy she couldn’t stop this time. She realized how little she knew about Jess’s life. She hadn’t been aware that he’d lost his father at such a young age. At a time when he felt the loss destroyed any sense of family for him. What about his mother?

      Libby had never known her own. The woman had died before she was old enough to remember her. Her father was still alive, still an opportunist who used people. But she’d grown up watching a family support their own. Even though she’d never felt a part of that family, she understood the dynamic and the love that underscored everything.

      Apparently Jess hadn’t been as lucky. She’d always thought of him as the golden boy, never touched by tragedy. Obviously there were more layers to him than she’d suspected.

      Only time would tell whether that was good or bad.

      Chapter Four

      Libby pushed the control button and watched the security gates into Jess’s luxury condo complex part like the Red Sea. Glancing in the rearview mirror of her practical little compact car, she smiled at Morgan, who was barely awake in her car seat. She’d learned that napping this close to bedtime could vaporize the evening schedule.

      “Hey, kiddo. Are you excited about your new princess comforter?”

      “Yes,” the child answered, then sleepily rubbed her eyes.

      “You know, your new bed has to be delivered before you can use the new things.”

      “When is it coming?” Morgan asked again.

      “Saturday.” Libby drove into her assigned space next to Jess’s. She noted that his car wasn’t there yet, which meant he was still working. Or something. She turned off the car’s ignition.

      “Why can’t they bring my bed tomorrow?” Morgan asked.

      “Because we’re at school all day and no one will be at home to let the delivery men in. They wouldn’t know where it goes,” she explained.

      “What about Uncle Jess?”

      Yeah. That was a good question. Libby wanted to warn Morgan not to count on him. The man was unwilling to do the hard work. The answer to what about Jess was as simple as that.

      It had to have been hard losing his dad so young, but he was making a deliberate choice to keep this precious little girl at arm’s length. No matter what he said about Ben and Charity knowing him, Libby would never believe his passive parenting is what they’d have wanted for their little girl.

      But she couldn’t say any of that out loud in answer to the question.

      “Uncle Jess works, too. Very hard. He can’t be here for the delivery.” Or anything else, Libby added silently. “So we’ll just keep all the bedding stacked in the corner of your room until Saturday.”

      “Okay.” Morgan unhooked herself from the safety seat and opened the rear passenger door.

      Libby lifted the twin comforter and the bag with matching sheets and towels from her trunk. The two of them managed to carry the bulky shopping bags to the private elevator, then rode it to the penthouse. She pulled the key from her jeans pocket and turned it in the lock. But when she tried to open the door it didn’t budge. After turning the key in the opposite direction, the door opened, which meant she hadn’t secured it properly when they’d left earlier.

      “That’s funny,” she said.

      “What is, Aunt Libby?” Morgan looked up with big, innocent brown eyes.

      “I was sure I locked the door.” She always did.

      This was a secure building, but leaving an unobstructed way into a luxury penthouse was like an engraved invitation to get ripped off. Her only excuse was that she’d had Jess on her mind a lot. The distraction took a toll and important things like not locking up were the result.

      She set the bags down in the foyer and her purse on the circular table.

      “I’m thirsty, Aunt Libby.”

      “How about a gigantic glass of milk?”

      The two of them had grabbed a burger at the mall, but before leaving she’d fixed a salad and pasta for Jess, then left it in the fridge.

      She smiled down at the little girl. “Soda with your hamburger for dinner was a treat but you still need milk.”

      “Why?”

      “It has calcium to give you shiny hair and strong teeth and bones so you’ll grow up big and strong.”

      Libby walked into the kitchen where the light was already on, which made the hair at her nape prickle with unease. On top of that there was an almost-empty plate of pasta on the counter. One of the bar stools had been pulled out for sitting down on.

      “This just keeps getting weirder.”

      “Uncle Jess ate his dinner,” Morgan said.

      Libby didn’t think so, what with the fact that his car wasn’t in its usual space. She didn’t think he was home yet. Not only that, there was a half-full wineglass beside the plate. Jess was a beer guy as far as she knew. She picked up the stemware and looked closer.

      “Uncle Jess didn’t pour this, not unless he’s started wearing lipstick.”

      Libby wondered whether or not she should be afraid. Should she take Morgan out and call 911? It didn’t feel like there was anything bad going on. This had a sensation of familiarity, of being at home and comfortable with the surroundings.

      “Aunt Libby—”

      “What, sweetie?” she said, preoccupied with what to do.

      “It’s like that story you read me,” Morgan said, excitement humming in her voice. “Remember? The one about the girl and the three bears.”

      She raced out of the room before Libby could stop her. And she needed to stop her because in that story they found the girl in bed. Hurrying to catch up, Libby went into the family room where she found Morgan standing still, staring down the long hall that led to Jess’s bedroom. A beautiful, curvaceous woman was walking toward them wearing a man’s black silk robe. Libby was thinking it was probably all she was wearing but couldn’t say for sure and didn’t really want to confirm. Her next thought was that although she’d never seen him in it, the robe was probably Jess’s.

      “This is the three bears’ story and Goldilocks is a redhead,” she mumbled.

      The woman tightened the tie