Then Came You (The Wilde Sisters #2) (2 page)

“Thyme.” Her voice had lost its sexy allure.

Frustrated with the conversation, he covered his watch with his hand and straightened his shoulders. “I’m aware of the time.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “My name. It’s Thyme. As in the herb. I have very, ah, eccentric parents.”

Didn’t he feel like an idiot? “I apologize again, Ms. Thyme.”

Thyme snorted. “Please. That makes me sound like a preschool teacher. Thyme is fine. Last name is Wilde, if you must know. Save your jokes. I’ve heard them all.”

He didn’t want to tell her that being a nanny to a five-year-old probably had a lot in common with a preschool teacher and, not a man accustomed to laughter, the joke was lost on him. “May I come in, Ms. Wilde?” Keeping their conversation on a professional level would help contain the movement below his belt.

He hoped.

“Why did Mr. Summers send you here? Are you…were you a friend of Bethany and Eric’s?”

Grayson looked down at his feet, swallowed, and brought his gaze back to Thyme’s.

“No. But I might be Madeline’s father.”

***

Thyme

Holy mother of all that is gorgeous.
If her psychic had told her that an older version of Liam Hemsworth was going to show up at her doorstep and melt her with his sea-green eyes, Thyme would have laughed her ass off and told her to have another.

She’d visited Madame Crystal a few times in the past year. So far her fortunes had been spot on, granted they were generic. There was the
There is a wonderful financial opportunity in your future. It will lead to your destiny.
A week later she responded to the Davenports’ ad for a nanny.

And then she was hit up with
Tragedy will strike but you must remain strong. Someone will be depending on you.
Okay, maybe she was spot on with that one too. Two months later the Davenports were killed in a plane accident, leaving their five-year-old daughter in her care, temporarily, of course.

But financial status and tragedy can be interpreted in many ways. Heck, last year her cat Spiffy died. That was tragic. Where was Madame Crystal then? Not that Thyme put much stock in psychics. They were fun. Something to do. But still…

Grayson Montgomery was a feast for the eyes. If he weren’t wearing a power suit—cut impeccably to fit his broad shoulders and lean waist—she’d swear he was a surfer. The fifty shades of blond—oh, her mind went dirty—stylishly short, accentuated his green eyes and golden tan. There weren’t many, if any, tanned men in Maine in the middle of January. There were a handful of women who thought fake baking all year long was attractive, and good for them, but Thyme preferred to get her tan from the golden globe in the sky.

Mr. Surfer God mentioned flying in tonight. From Heaven? Does Heaven have beaches? The lingering look he gave her when she first opened the door turned her loins to a wet mush and her arms into limp noodles. She knew her robe had gaped open but the sexual tension shooting from his sexiness sucked the energy right out of her.

There was a slight moment of clarity when she realized she was standing in the doorway half-naked flirting with a complete stranger. Not that that was out of the ordinary for Thyme. She loved men. Loved to flirt. Loved to flaunt. Loved to have fun.

She flittered from job to job, loving the freedom in her life, never feeling tied down. But this job was different. And no matter how delicious Grayson Montgomery looked standing on the doorstep silhouetted by the porch light, her job was to care for Maddie. The stranger would have to go.

It wasn’t until he mentioned the Davenports’ family attorney that she remembered she was a nanny paid to care for a sleeping, orphaned girl, where she was, and that the six-foot surfer was Maddie’s father.

“Oh my God.” Thyme stepped back and gestured Grayson into the living room.

Mr. Summers hinted that there would be no custody battle over Madeline Davenport, that her well-being had already been determined by her mother, but never in a million years would Thyme have guessed that the little girl wasn’t the biological daughter of the happy couple.

Sure, they were older, in their mid-fifties, but she figured the girl was theirs. Maddie had her mother’s lips and mannerisms and her father’s coloring. Blonde hair, green eyes. Just like…

Grayson stepped into the foyer and down the step into the sunken living room. His large frame took up too much space. Chilled to the bone with the realization the Davenports weren’t her miracle couple, Thyme moved over to the dying fire and added another log. How could Bethany have…How could Grayson have…?

Thyme shook her head. “So, how many illegitimate children do you have running around? Or was Bethany and Eric’s the only relationship you destroyed?”

“What? No. I…” Grayson seemed at a loss for words. “May I?” He gestured to the sofa and didn’t sit until Thyme nodded. His long frame looked ridiculous on the chic furniture, his knees coming up too high, the back of the sofa barely reaching his armpits. If Grayson leaned back his shoulders would hit the wall. Eric Davenport hadn’t been a large man, the furniture fitting him perfectly. The men were as opposite as could be. Except in coloring. “I had no idea.”

“No idea? Bethany and Eric have been…were married for like, thirty years! I’ve only known them for a few months but I’ve seen pictures and see how they are…were…together. They loved each other totally and completely, so don’t think you can come in here and turn Maddie’s life upside down. Hell, it already is.” Thyme punched the wall and shook her knuckles when they instantly burned with pain.

“Trust me, that’s not my plan. Look, Ms. Wilde—”

“Seriously.” Thyme snorted. “This isn’t 1842. Call me Thyme.”

Grayson nodded and pushed himself to standing, visibly nervous. “Thyme. Honestly, I had no idea about any of this until just a few hours ago. I didn’t know Bethany.”

“Really? Was it one of those,
oops, I slipped
moments?” She didn’t care how vulgar she sounded. Thyme was mad at this man for ruining her image of the perfect family. God knew how messed up her parents were. They resented having kids, too in love with each other to be bothered with parenting. It didn’t surprise her or her sisters when their parents said they wouldn’t make Rayne’s wedding, and had yet to meet their grandson.
Finally, I meet a couple who represented everything I wished I had and tall, blond, and gorgeous has to kill it with a horrid affair.

“No. I didn’t…” He sighed. “Look, it’s a long, unbelievable story that I’m still processing myself. I wouldn’t believe it if it weren’t happening to me.” His gaze flickered to the mantel and he brushed past her, picking up a picture. It was from Christmas, just a few weeks ago. “She looks…”

“Yeah, just like you. Congratulations, Dad,” she said sarcastically.

Grayson shoved the picture in Thyme’s hands and walked out the door.

***

Grayson

If his life hadn’t already been turned upside down it surely was now. The little girl in the picture was the spitting image of him. And just like his mother when she was a little girl. The woman next to the girl looked vaguely familiar but he wouldn’t have recognized her had he passed her on the street. Six years was a long time to remember a passing face in the night. A night that didn’t involve talking or getting to know each other, except in the most carnal way.

He was a father.

“Damn.”

Grayson sat behind the wheel of his rented Mercedes willing his hands to stop shaking. A father? Grayson? No, he wasn’t ready for this. Sophia Buchanan had mapped out the future of her only grandson and he’d willingly followed the path. With the exception of taking over her clothing empire and majoring in business, he’d been molded into the man his matriarch of a grandmother wanted him to be.

When she accepted the fact that the fashion industry wasn’t suited for him, she allowed him to follow in his father’s footsteps instead. Yes, allow would be the correct word to use. It irked him how much his parents allowed Sophia to control their lives. They weren’t doormats and had successful careers: Richard was the owner and CEO of his multi-million dollar company Montgomery Designs and Eva ran multiple foundations, raising millions for children and families in need.

Even with putting his foot down, he still followed the path laid before him.

Attend his father’s alma mater, Yale.

Check.

Major in architecture.

Check.

Work for Montgomery Designs.

Check.

Attend the galas, charity dinners, and functions his mother organized.

Check.

Date women his grandmother pushed upon him.

Check, check, check.

Hell, he hadn’t been on a date with a woman of his choosing since…college? No, he barely had time to date back then. He’d been too concerned about making the grades, following his well-determined path.

To say Grayson was born with a silver spoon in his mouth was an understatement. Both his parents were born in the lap of luxury as well and didn’t know any other way. They weren’t snobs, but they were ignorant to the “other” side. Sure, Eva volunteered in the children’s wards of New York City’s hospitals, and Richard wrote checks to plenty of needy organizations and groups over the years, but neither one of Grayson’s parents ever lived a normal life.

Hell, Grayson never lived a normal life. But he wanted to. He always felt like the odd duck. His manners were impeccable and that sure didn’t get him in with the cool kids. He wasn’t a rebel, bad boy, or risk taker; that didn’t get him in with the mysterious girls.

Grayson Richard Montgomery lived an ordinary, boring life. For a rich guy. Or rather, he
had
an ordinary, boring life. His father would be disappointed in him, his grandmother would be furious for besmirching the family’s reputation. His mother, she’d secretly be elated to have a little girl in the family. Grayson never missed the yearning in his mother’s eyes when she talked about her charity work with the children.

But what would he do with a daughter? He worked eighty-hour weeks, lived in an apartment in Manhattan—granted, it had two bedrooms—and had no idea what five-year-old girls needed. There was absolutely no way he could care for her.

Bethany Davenport’s letter said her family was dysfunctional and Madeline had never met anyone on her side. Eric was an only child, his parents passing a few years ago. And his distant family, her great aunts and uncles, lived in South Carolina but Madeline had only visited with them once; she hardly knew them. Plus, they weren’t her biological family. He was all she had.

Sighing, Grayson took out his phone, called his secretary and asked her to make a hotel reservation somewhere near Rocky Harbor, and backed out of the driveway. He drove aimlessly for a while, waiting for his hotel information. When his phone beeped, he entered the address into the navigation system and followed the computer’s directions to a local inn.

In the morning he’d deal with this problem. In the morning he’d drive back to the Davenports and meet his daughter.

Chapter Two

Thyme

“Hey beautiful.” Thyme reached out her arms and welcomed Maddie into her warm embrace. “Did you sleep well?”

Maddie nodded, clutching her doggy between their bodies. “I had a dream that Doggy and me were swimming in the ocean with Mommy and Daddy.”

Thyme pulled back and stroked Maddie’s blonde hair. “That sounds like an awesome dream.” She didn’t want to discourage Maddie from talking about her parents but tried to lighten the sad moments as often as possible. “Was I there too? Lying in the sun, reading a book?”

“No.” Maddie giggled.

“Shucks. I really wanted to go to the beach.” Thyme tickled Maddie’s belly, her heart melting at the sound of her laughter. “It’s too cold out to go now anyway but we can go in the summer.”

Strings pulled at her heart. Their time together was limited. As soon as Grayson pulled his head out of his ass he’d see what an amazing daughter he had. He’d whisk her away and Thyme would never see Maddie again. Forcing back tears, she sniffed and kissed the top of Maddie’s head.

“What’ll it be this morning, beautiful? Cereal? Pancakes? Eggs?”

“Um, can I have blueberry pancakes with whipped cream?”

Thyme feigned shock. “Whipped cream? For breakfast?”

Maddie tried to hide her smile in Doggy’s head and nodded. “I’ll give you a kiss if you do.” She wrapped her arms around Thyme’s neck and kissed her smack on the lips.

“Very good. Whipped cream on your pancakes it is. Get dressed while I make breakfast for the princess. And leave Grungy upstairs!”

Giggling, Maddie ran up the stairs to her room, hopefully remembering to leave the gross dog behind. Doggy had seen better days but she served as a comfort to Maddie during this tragic time. Thyme couldn’t take that away from her.

Thyme’s smile quickly faded when she thought about her late night visitor. Late night. Ha. That made her chuckle. Four months ago at nine p.m. Thyme would have been putting the final touches on her makeup and calling her girlfriends to see who would be the designated driver for their night out to the bars in Portland.

When did nine o’clock turn late? Since she became Maddie’s only family. She’d take her to visit Rayne and baby Owen today. Maddie loved babies. And so did Thyme, something she came to realize when her sister had a baby last spring.

Flipping the last blueberry pancake on to the platter, she turned off the skillet, took out two plates from the cabinet, and set them on the table. Opening the fridge, she balanced the butter, whipped cream, and milk, and shut the door with her hip.

Being a nanny definitely taught her how to multi-task. Wouldn’t Sage be proud? Her oldest sister was the queen of multi-taskers and had been trying to teach the skill to Thyme since the day she started crawling. She could do no right in Sage’s mind. Thyme’s incapability to commit to a major, a career, an apartment, a boyfriend, drove her sister nuts. Well, maybe not the boyfriend part. Sage couldn’t hold down a relationship either. Or rather, Sage didn’t want to.

Thyme didn’t have any aversions to relationships. She just never found a man who didn’t bore her after a few months. Which was ironic, seeing how all the men she dated were flighty, spontaneous, and never reliable. One would think that would keep Thyme on her toes. But really, she didn’t know what she was looking for. Only that she hadn’t found it yet.

The light sound of footsteps preceded the precious giggles that erupted from Maddie.

“Is my whipped cream ready?”

“Whipped cream? Who said anything about whipped cream for breakfast?” Truth be told, Thyme would serve the adorable child ice cream every day for breakfast if she promised to smile and giggle like this every morning.

“I gave you a hug and kiss so you have to.” Maddie’s green eyes twinkled as she climbed up into her chair.

“Okay, then.” Thyme sighed. “You win once again.” She shook the can of whipped cream and squirted a dollop on the end of Maddie’s nose.

Maddie giggled and tried to lick it off with her tongue. “You have to put it on my pancakes, not my nose, silly.”

Thyme laughed and made a smiley face with the whipped cream on her plate. “Such a demanding princess.” She put three pancakes on her own plate and squirted another happy face when the doorbell rang. “Who the…” She looked down at Maddie, who was so focused on her pancakes she didn’t even hear the bell, and made her way toward the front of the house. Peeking out the front window she caught a glimpse of a fancy, shiny black car parked in the driveway.

He came back.

She glanced at the clock. An early riser to boot. Grayson seemed like the type who needed his beauty sleep. Apparently he didn’t want to delay the inevitable.

Thankfully she was dressed. Granted it was a pair of jeans and a University of Maine sweatshirt, but it was better than being caught naked under a satin robe again.

***

Grayson

Unfortunately she was dressed this time. Not that Grayson expected Thyme to answer the door naked, but a guy could dream.

“We just sat down to breakfast. Want to join us?”
Us
most likely meant Thyme and his daughter. He had no idea what to say to Madeline, and was grateful that Thyme would be there. “Unless you want some time alone with her?”

“No,” he said too quickly. “I mean, I’m a complete stranger and don’t want to frighten her.”

Coward.
Grayson was beyond scared. Visiting young cancer patients, bearing gifts and bringing smiles to little boys and girls in hospitals he could do. Holding a conversation with his newly found daughter, not so much.

Thyme looked up at him with a knowing smirk. “Haven’t had much experience with kids, huh?” She waved him in and he once again felt an overwhelming jolt of electricity as he brushed past her.

“Not so much,” he replied in all honesty. “I’m not sure how to explain the situation to her. Should I tell her I’m her biological father?”

Thyme frowned and her shoulders drooped, her body signaling her thoughts. “She’s had so much trauma already. Don’t ruin her life, Grayson. That’s all I ask.” She turned around and walked into the kitchen, leaving Grayson alone with his thoughts.
Damn
. She was supposed to tell him what to do. He didn’t want to barge in to the little girl’s life and rip her world apart. But he had to have some sort of explanation as to why she would be living with him.

Living with him?
Grayson had tossed and turned all night, thoughts shifting from the gorgeous brunette who gave off equal parts sass and crass, and the little blonde in the picture on the mantel who looked so much like him. Grayson was used to making decisions and people following his orders. He’d never been without an idea, a suggestion as to what the next steps should be. When he rang the doorbell minutes ago he still had no idea what he was going to do about this precarious situation. Thyme was supposed to help him.

But she left him high and dry to figure things out on his own. Taking the bull by the horns, he forced his legs to move toward the kitchen. The light greeted him first, the sunrise reflecting off the ocean water and on to the kitchen’s stainless steel appliances. It wasn’t a large, fancy kitchen but had the look of a recent remodel.

Two figures sat on barstools at the granite-topped island, their backs to him. A long blonde ponytail hung low over a pink, tiny back while a mass of chocolate curls brushed the shoulders of the curvaceous figure on the right. Both seemed oblivious to his presence, the little one chattering away about dogs and beaches.

“What if it was a hundred degrees out today and all the snow melted? Then would you swim with Doggy and me?”

“Hm, maybe. But it would have to be at least a hundred degrees out before I swim in the Atlantic Ocean.”

“What about the Caribbean?” slipped out before he could process what he’d done.

Two heads swiveled toward him.

“Are you the visitor?”

Grayson looked to Thyme, who wore a blank expression, and then settled his gaze back on his mini-me. “Yes.”

“Oh. Do you want some pancakes? We have whipped cream.”

He was about to say no but the little girl looked so proud of her breakfast. Grayson noticed Thyme’s plate. “Can I get a smiley face on my pancake, too?”

“Sure. Thyme makes the bestest ones.”

Scooting back her barstool, Thyme quietly got up, grabbed a plate from the cabinet, and made him a happy face pancake.

“Thank you,” he said, taking the plate from her. “Very cute.”

She didn’t smile as she returned to her seat to silently eat her pancakes. The cold shoulder. The few women he knew and dated didn’t play mind games. This one was different.

“So, you must be Madeline.” Grayson cut his pancake with his fork and knife and took a bite. Not bad. He’d never had whipped cream on anything other than tiramisu before.

“My mom used to call me that when I got in trouble. I like Maddie better.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Maddie. What are your plans for today?”

“I wanted to go to the beach with Doggy but Thyme said it’s too cold.”

“She’s right. It is pretty cold. Where’s your dog?”

“In my bed. Thyme says she’s too disgusting to bring to the table when we eat so she has to stay in my room. She calls her Grungy.”

Grayson had never had a pet before, but he didn’t think they were so hideous that they couldn’t be around while people ate. That sounded like something his grandmother would say. “I never had a dog before. Can I meet him?”

“Doggy’s a girl. She has a pink bow.”

“Oh. Can I meet her?”

Thyme snorted and got up to clear the dishes.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” Maddie hopped off her barstool and ran out of the kitchen.

“There’s a reason why Doggy isn’t allowed around the food.”

“Does she jump up on counters?”

Thyme grinned. “She has a habit of wiping up all sorts of spills. Food, paint, drool, snot. You name it.”

Grayson grimaced as Maddie ran back in the kitchen and shoved a small, beige stuffed dog into his belly. “This is Doggy. She’s my best friend.”

The thing had definitely seen better days. He imagined the fur was once soft and clean. The ball of stuffing had clumps of dried—food?—matted in its fur and various colors of brown fuzz over its body. Grayson picked it up by the stained, pink bow between his thumb and index finger and held it away from him and his food. “Well, hey, Doggy. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Doggy goes everywhere with me.”

“Does she take baths often?”

“No, she doesn’t like baths. They make her feel different.”

“I can buy you a new stuffed animal. One who is as soft as cashmere.”

Thyme scowled at him and shook her head. “I’m going to finish up the laundry. Maddie, we have story hour at the library in thirty minutes, okay?”

“Yay! I love story hour. Are you coming too?” She looked innocently up at Grayson and his heart beat a little faster and his collar got a little tighter. What would she say if he told her he was her father? Would she cry? Get angry? Be upset with Eric or Grayson? Damn. The girl was too cute. He couldn’t risk hurting her feelings by telling her who he was.

“I would love to go. If they let me.”

Maddie held the nasty stuffed animal to her ear and then looked up to him with large, innocent green eyes. “Doggy wants to know what your name is.”

How could he have been so rude as to forget to introduce himself?

Since two beautiful girls threw curveballs into his world.

“I apologize. My name is Grayson Montgomery.”

“Oh. Are you a friend of Thyme’s?”

He watched her curves move down the hallway. “Yes. I’m a friend of hers. Do you mind if I spend some time with the two of you?”

“Sure.” Maddie shrugged her shoulders. “I like hanging out with Thyme’s friends.”

Grayson wondered how many
friends
Thyme brought around his daughter. He narrowed his gaze at her back, even though he knew she couldn’t see him from the laundry area.

***

Thyme

The library visit went surprisingly well. Thyme kept expecting Grayson to answer his phone—she heard it vibrate at least a dozen times during the twenty-minute story hour—or make some excuse to unfold his long frame from the preschool-sized chairs, but he sat, and was even a willing participant when Miss Debby called on him. Miss Debby seemed to focus more of her attention on Grayson than the ten preschool-aged children.

A confusing mix of feelings kept bubbling up inside. Her neglected female parts tingled as she noticed every muscle, every time his soft lips quirked in an amused grin, and every time his sexy green eyes looked her way. But the skeptical woman in her wondered what Mr. Armani was going to do with his daughter’s future. Would he toss her in a boarding school? Set her up with a nanny who thrived on class and social status instead of being fun and nurturing? Or would he say, “See you later. I don’t have time for a brat,” and fly back to New York?