Man of the Month (Willowdale Romance Novel) (9 page)

He let out a breath and set down the peeler. “That’s an improvement.”

“Yeah, well no sparks, either.”

“Give him a chance. Are you going to see him again?”

“He said he was going to call.”

His eyebrows shot up.

“I’m not excited, so don’t you get excited either.”

“I’m not excited.” He threw up his hands and knocked the bowl of cinnamon apple batter off the counter and right down his shirt.

“No, not at all.” She laughed as her cell phone rang. “I better get that. Could be business. Just hope it’s not for an apple strudel.” She grabbed her phone. “Hello?”

He tried wiping off his shirt, but it was soaked, so he pulled it over his head.

Jeanne blinked at him. “Uh, hi, Jeff.” She sounded surprised.

Damn. Her blind date was calling already? He tossed his shirt on the counter.

“This Friday?” She ran her hand through her hair and stared at Brad. “Yeah, sure that sounds good.” Her eyes snapped away from him, but she kept glancing back, so he gave her a big smile and a thumbs up.

“Abs,” she said staring at him. “Absolutely.”

“Told you this would work,” he whispered.

She frowned and put her hand over the phone while Jeff kept talking on the other end.

“Put on a shirt,” she whispered, “or at least my apron.” She untied it and tossed it to him before turning back to the phone call. “Um, yeah, you can pick me up. That would be great.” After giving him her address, she hung up. “Looks like I’ve got another date this weekend.” She frowned. “Didn’t quite catch where we were going.”

He pulled another spare shirt from under the counter. Wasn’t the first time he’d had a wardrobe malfunction at work. “Hot damn. Another date. See? My plan was genius.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. A second date isn’t enough to call this a success.”

“Fine. But I’ve got a good feeling about this. Now, we’ve got work to do. Rita just upped her standing order for three pies every other day, thanks to your wonderful desserts.” And how many pies would it take to pay the rent this month, since the residential center deposit wouldn’t be doing that?

“Yeah, and you gotta make another apple strudel. Try to keep your shirt on this time.”

JEFF DIDN’T CALL the rest of the week, but that was fine with Jeanne. She’d only caught half their conversation when he’d called, that’s how distracted she’d been by a shirtless Brad. Jeff’s call had actually come at the perfect moment. Not that she would’ve been upset if she never heard from him again. She wasn’t exactly dreading Friday’s date. At least she knew what she was getting in to. And hey, maybe if they went out a few more times, Brad would cancel Mr. April. That brightened her mood.

She spent a few moments picking out something in her closet that looked halfway decent. And while her heart wasn’t thumping, she didn’t have dread coiled in her belly, either. Heck, at least she’d have a good meal. Food was an excellent motivator.

The doorbell rang, and she checked her hair before answering it. Jeff looked great in his suit, and she wondered if she’d be seriously underdressed. She hadn’t caught exactly where they were going, just that he was picking her up at five-thirty.

“Am I dressed all right?” she asked.

He looked her up and down, and one corner of his mouth turned down. “I just hope you don’t get dirty.”

Her eyes widened at that, and she tried to imagine what he had planned. Maybe one of those Japanese restaurants where they cooked right in front of you, and the chef lobbed shrimp at the customers? Could be fun.

Settling back in her seat, she tried to kindle the tiny glimmer of interest in her tummy into something more, but it just wasn’t happening. No giddy, gut wrenching nerves shaking her like she’d felt with other guys. Well, with Brad, anyway.

“I’m so glad you were able to make it tonight,” Jeff said. “I was desperate, really.”

She tilted her head and bit her lip.
Desperate?
Not exactly what a girl wants to hear on Date Number Two. Maybe he meant desperate to see her again. Yeah, that must be it. But why weren’t sparks flying at that news?

“I’m glad you called.”
Because you stopped me from running my fingers across my best friend’s abs
 . . .

“Well, we’ll see if you change your mind by the end of the night.”

Now she was getting nervous. Were they going to a medieval Renaissance dinner or something? Was she going to be jousting? She didn’t want to admit she hadn’t been listening one hundred percent to their phone conversation—how could she have been, with Brad stripping? She’d just have to wait and see what Jeff had planned.

He turned down a residential street and pulled into a driveway.

“Is this your house? Did you forget something?” She was confused.

He narrowed his eyes, equally confused. “No, this is where my kids are. Don’t worry. Like I said, I’ll be back by ten, eleven at the latest. These business dinners sometimes drag on.”

She froze, her hand on her seatbelt. “You’re leaving me here? With your kids?”

“That’s usually how babysitting works, isn’t it? I suppose I could take them to your house, but they’ll be ready for bed before I get home.” He checked his watch and climbed out of the car to open her door for her.

He hadn’t asked her out on a date. He’d asked her to babysit. Good golly, she couldn’t admit she didn’t know what she’d signed up for. She took a deep breath and forced a smile when Jeff opened her door. “Remind me again how many there are?”

“Two. Max and Zach.”

“And how old again?”

He pressed his lips together. “Seven and four.”

“Wow. Seven and four.”

“I’ve got pizza being delivered at six, so you don’t have to worry about cooking.”

“That’s a good thing.” This guy wasn’t looking for a girlfriend, he was looking for a nanny.

He led her up the stoop of a cute little brick Colonial, and she could hear the ruckus inside even before he opened the door. “Who’s watching them now?”

“Mandy, their usual babysitter. Only she and her sister both are going to a dance tonight. Remember, that’s why I had to ask you?”

“Yes, yes, that’s right.”

“They’re already in their pajamas, so all you have to do is feed them and get them into bed.”

Two little dark heads bobbed up and down on the couch, giggling and shrieking. A teenage girl with a long braid slipping past her shoulders grabbed her backpack and dashed out the door—after pocketing a ten-dollar bill from Jeff—before Jeanne even got inside.

“Guys, I want you to meet Daddy’s friend, Jenny.”

“Jeanne,” she corrected him.

The little heads kept bouncing.

“Guys! Max, Zach!”

They stopped and peered over the top of the couch—two scruffy mops of hair perched over big, brown eyes.

He took Jeanne by the hand and led her over to them. “This is the lady I told you about, the one who’s going to watch you tonight.”

One little head popped up from behind the couch. His eyes widened, and he stared her down. “We didn’t like the last lady you brought.”

Jeanne turned to Jeff, and he just shrugged like a toddler busted making off with an extra cookie. “Max, say ‘Hi’ to Jeanne,” Jeff instructed.

Jeanne flapped her hand at him. “Hi there, cutie.”

His freckled face scrunched up, and he stuck out his tongue and disappeared again behind the couch. “I am not a cutie, and we want Mandy!”

“Yeah, we want Mandy!” a squeakier voice called out from behind the couch.

Jeff groaned. “They’re really quite fond of Mandy.”

“Apparently.”
But why hire Mandy when you can get your dates to do it for free?
She shivered, feeling a bit dirty.

“But you said you loved kids, and I sure was glad to hear that.” He glanced at his watch again. “I’m really going to be late if I don’t get going. I’m sure you guys will do just fine.” He kissed his sons on their heads, warned them to behave, and squeezed Jeanne’s hand before breezing out the door.

“Perfect,” she said under her breath.
This is almost like another blind date getting to know these two.
Maybe they’d get her off the hook for April and May.

“So,” she clapped her hands together and took a deep breath. “What do you want to do tonight?”

“We told you—we want Mandy!”

She rubbed her neck and wondered if she could pay Mandy triple Jeff’s rates to ditch her dance. “I know, but she’s not here. So, let’s have as much fun as we can. Pizza is coming, and we can play a game while we wait.”

“Mandy lets us do whatever we want.”

“What do you want to do?” She kicked off her pretty but painful shoes, because what was the point of pinching her toes together for the primary school set?

Max popped back up from the couch and pointed his finger at her. “Shoot you.” He bent his thumb forward like he’d just pulled the trigger.

Stunned for a moment, she shrugged and then dropped to the floor like she was dead. She peeked one eye open to see the two boys peer over the couch at her, giggling.

“Let’s tie her up,” the little one said.

Jeanne sprang up from the floor. “No, no. Let’s not do that. How about a book? Let’s read a nice quiet book.”

“Yuck,” said Max.

“Blocks?” Jeanne offered.

That earned a pair of gigantic eye rolls. Then they dashed out of the room, and she heard a door slam.

“Boys?” She ran in their direction and tried the knobs on all the doors until she found the locked one. “Let me in, guys.”

The sound of running water whined on the other side of the door.

She tried the knob again. “This isn’t funny. Open up. Guys, what are you doing in there?”

“Making an ocean. Go away.”

Scenes of an overflowing tub sent her heart racing. Holding an immobile infant was so much easier than this. She thought about calling Jeff, but didn’t want to interrupt his business dinner. Clearly, the man had enough on his hands. She didn’t want to be responsible for a deal gone bad. Brad would know how to handle these two. He had nieces and nephews—all under age five, but still. He’d been a hellion himself. He could probably unlock doors in his sleep.

She dashed to her purse and dialed his number while running back to the bathroom. His phone rang and rang.

“Come on, come on,” she whispered to herself, keeping one ear pressed up against the bathroom door.

“Jeanne?” Brad finally answered. “What’s up? Aren’t you on your date?”

“Yes, well not exactly. How do you pick the lock on a bathroom door?”

He was quiet and then laughed. “Don’t tell me your date’s barricading himself in the bathroom. What did you do?”

“Trust me, I’m the one who should be locked in a bathroom.” Jeanne tried the doorknob again, just in case. Nope, still locked. “And it’s not my date, it’s his sons. Turns out he didn’t exactly ask me on another date.” She nudged the door with her hip. “He asked me to babysit for him, but you were . . . distracting me when he called, and I didn’t catch everything he said.” Heat crept up her neck just thinking about Brad’s abs again.

“Time out. Mr. March has you babysitting his kids?”

“Yes, another spectacular set up, Mr. Larsen. Now tell me how to get these kids out of the bathroom before they make a mini-Niagara Falls in there.”

“Let me come over and get them out. You’re at his place in Whitesville, right? I’m at my brother’s. Give me his address, and I’ll be right over.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, we were just hanging out. Hey, want me to go downstairs and say ‘Hi’ to Sam for you?”

“You’re the funniest guy I know. How do you manage it?”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

She gave him the address and tried shouting to the boys through the door, but they either couldn’t hear her or were totally ignoring her. Probably the latter. She pinched the bridge of her nose and pounded on the door a few times, but nothing. Slumping onto the floor, she tried to calculate how long it took to fill a tub to the top when the doorbell finally rang.

“Thank God you’re here,” she said, flinging the door open.

“Wow, you must be hungry, lady.” The skinny teenager handed her the pizza. “It’s all paid for.”

She grabbed a few bills from her wallet to tip him and wondered if the aroma of hot pizza would get the little buggers to come out. She carried the box to the bathroom and knocked again. “Oh boys, the pizza is here. Better get a slice before I eat it all.”

Still nothing but the sound of running water. “Guys, are you okay? I’m serious. Answer me.”

Nothing. It suddenly occurred to her that maybe something bad had happened. Maybe the boys had slipped under water. There might not be time to wait for Brad. She might need to call 911. She looked at her watch. Ten minutes had passed since Brad promised he’d be there. She let out a shriek when cold water oozed around her toes.

“Boys?” She shook the doorknob.

She ran to the kitchen with the pizza and grabbed her cell again, this time calling 911.

“911 what’s your emergency?”

“Two boys are locked in the bathroom with running water, and they’re not answering me.”