A Nanny Under the Mistletoe. Raye Morgan

opened the refrigerator and grabbed a longneck brown beer bottle, then twisted off the metal cap.

      “Speaking of wise…”

      Libby wasn’t anxious to bring up the subject of his father or parental males in general after all the questions he asked about her own. Jess had never shown quite that level of interest in her before and she regretted more than was prudent that it probably wasn’t about her at all. For the record, he was smart to be wary of her father.

      As much as she didn’t want to, she needed to talk—specifically about his feelings after his father died. He might be able to help Morgan more than anyone.

      “What?” He took a drink of beer.

      “I was hoping you could help with something.”

      “If I can,” he agreed.

      “Miss Connie came to see me today.”

      “Who?”

      “Her kindergarten teacher. She was wondering how Morgan’s coping with the loss of her parents.”

      “What do you think?” he asked.

      “That’s difficult to answer.” Absently she twisted the cellophane ends of a candy package. “I had to break the news to her.”

      Libby remembered that horrible day. Reeling from the news that her best friend wasn’t ever coming home. The realization that she’d have to tell Morgan something that no child should have to hear. “She didn’t have an immediate reaction except to get very quiet. I figured she was only five and hadn’t seen them for months, which is forever to a kid.”

      “That makes sense.” The tone was casual and completely at odds with the hard edges and shadows on his face.

      “But the regular phone calls from Charity and Ben stopped. I’ve sort of been waiting for her to bring up the subject, if she wants to talk about it.”

      “And?” he prompted.

      Libby toed open the stainless-steel trash can, then tossed in the questionable candy before meeting his gaze. “She hasn’t mentioned Charity and Ben at all. The thing is, I don’t know how a kid would react to something like that.”

      He leaned a hip on the bar stool beside her. “I’m not sure how I can help.”

      “You lost your dad when you were just a kid. I was wondering how you handled it.”

      He’d started to lift the bottle to his mouth and stopped. The expression on his face said he’d rather walk naked in a hail storm than discuss this.

      “That was a long time ago. I don’t remember anything specific.”

      Something about his tone made her think he wasn’t telling the whole truth about that. For the life of her she couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t open up. For all his flaws, shallowness being top of the list, she’d never known him to be deliberately mean. And clearly he was loyal. Maybe she could get him to share.

      “Did you talk about how you felt? To a counselor? A teacher? Or some other professional?”

      “No.” A muscle in his jaw jerked.

      “Was there anything your mother did to make it easier?”

      He set the beer down with enough force to splash some of the liquid on the counter. “Like I said, it was a long time ago. And I was only a few years older than Morgan.”

      “Which is why I think you’re the best person to consult about how to proceed—”

      “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “Little girls are way outside my area of expertise.”

      In essence he was refusing to discuss the issue, which tweaked Libby’s temper. “Right. I forgot. Big girls are more your style.”

      “I like women,” he agreed.

      Libby remembered. She hadn’t meant to say anything out loud and wasn’t sure why she did now. That wasn’t exactly true. It was no surprise that he dated, but seeing Elena Cavanaugh had hurt more than she was prepared for. His type was something she would never be, and face-to-face confirmation was tough to reconcile.

      “A child is definitely a responsibility,” she said, bringing the subject back to the little girl. “Is the obligation cramping your style?”

      “Morgan is the daughter of my best friend. He’d have done the same for me.”

      That wasn’t an answer and sounded more like the company line than a reason to raise an orphaned little girl. This time a dash of irritation made her ask, “Did you ever plan to have children?”

      “Honestly?”

      “Always the best policy,” she said.

      “Since high school my focus has been on achieving success. I knew business was the best way to do that and concentrated all my energy in college on learning everything I could to get me where I wanted to be. I’m determined to make the name Jess Donnelly as recognizable and synonymous with Las Vegas resorts as Steve Wynn or the Maloof family with their fantasy suites at the Palms Hotel.”

      “So children aren’t now nor have they ever been one of your priorities?”

      “No.”

      “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

      His gaze narrowed. “Has anyone ever told you that’s quite the talent you’ve got for lobbing verbal zingers?”

      “I’m glad you like it.”

      “I didn’t say that. Just that I noticed.”

      “That makes two of us.” Libby froze, then let out a long breath.

      What she noticed reinforced that her recent appointment with the attorney had been the right thing to do. The family law specialist had promised to research the situation and get back to her on options for Morgan’s custody—if it became clear that was in the child’s best interest. Libby still hadn’t made up her mind about that.

      Sometimes Jess showed signs of bonding with Morgan, then he pulled back. Like tonight. Missing Halloween.

      Or maybe she was painting her perception of him with the rejection brush he used on her. She wasn’t proud of the way she yearned for him to become aware of her but couldn’t deny the feelings for him that had simmered inside her for so long.

      “What did you notice?” he asked.

      Like she would actually share her most personal and intimate thoughts with him. “It’s not so much that as watching Morgan tonight. She made a couple of comments about kids with the adults around them. Wondering if they were moms and dads.”

      Jess folded his arms over his chest. “So you’re wondering whether or not her teacher is right about a delayed reaction to losing her parents.”

      “Yeah. It crossed my mind.” Among other things, she thought.

      “Do you think she needs to see a professional?”

      “It’s an option,” she agreed. “I think it might be best to just observe for a while.”

      “Okay,” he said.

      “And I’m thinking it might be a good idea to get out pictures of Charity and Ben. Not only is there a chance she would open up, but we should try and keep their memory alive for their child.”

      “You’re right. Okay.”

      Okay. There’d been willingness in his voice to do whatever Morgan needed. That was the kind of thing that warmed Libby’s heart and fueled her impossible fantasies where Jess was concerned. It’s why she wasn’t prepared to do anything drastic to uproot Morgan yet again.

      As long as Libby was around to keep that little girl from getting hurt, there was no reason things couldn’t stay the way they were. And that was the problem.