Page 7

“It could work,” Rose comments and burps the baby.

“What am I missing?” I ask, glancing between Eli and Rose.

“She’s on her way to New York because she needs a break from her life in California,” Rose explains. “We offered her a room to stay in until she gets back on her feet.”

“And?” I prompt.

“She has a college degree in early childhood development and education, and years of nannying experience, including babies. She’d be a perfect nanny for the summer.”

“Holy fucking shit.”

My friends mistake my reaction for excitement, even though my outburst was more along the lines of I can’t have one of the most beautiful women I have ever met in my life as my live-in nanny. Definitely not while I’ll be running on no sleep, raw emotions and whatever the hell this new version of my life is supposed to be. Adding her to the messed-up situation sounds like another disaster waiting to happen.

“I’ll call her right away,” Eli says and gets up. “She’ll be happy to hear we have a temporary job for her while she’s here.”

Of course he moves fast. Eli has always been like that. Rose looks after him before turning her focus back to me. “This is perfect! I’m so excited for you both.”

We seem to have different definitions of perfection, but I don’t have many options. This isn’t about what I want or what’s comfortable. It’s about what Tilly needs. If the best thing for her is bringing Peyton on board, then I’ll deal with whatever that stirs up in me.

Listening to Eli leave a voice note in the background, my mind wanders to the first time I met Peyton last Christmas.

I had just broken up with Alessandra, my long-term partner. Our relationship had been slowly dying, but we were too stubborn to say goodbye. Then one cold December morning, she told me about her job offer in Paris and how she was leaving, with or without me. The decision was made for me as I couldn’t leave the country. Not when Livia was pregnant.

On the surface, I was heartbroken, but deeper within, I didn’t know how to feel. I was upset about losing the future I had imagined; a loving partner and a family of my own. But I didn’t cry over the fact that we had grown apart. I cried because I craved security in my life and the promise of such was taken away from me once again. Realizing that was the hardest pill to swallow.

When I met Peyton only days after the breakup, the first thing I noticed was her stunning smile. Her gray eyes sparkled behind her glasses as she jokingly said she was happy to finally meet the infamous Ollie. I even made her crack up. I can’t remember what I said exactly, but it doesn’t matter. Because what I do remember is her melodic laughter and how the sound filled me from the inside out. It was the kind that made you pause to find the source in the crowded room.

As Peyton and I continued to chat through the evening, I couldn’t help but notice the way her lips curved into a captivating smile as she spoke. Her voice was soft and gentle, accompanying her laughter perfectly. Too bad she was married back then, so there was nothing I could do. I knew I had to stop thinking of her as anything other than Eli’s brother-in-law’s little sister. Not that she’s little; she’s only three years younger than me.

Now that she’s no longer with the cheating douchebag, keeping my thoughts to myself will be harder. But I have to remain professional. This woman is going to be my niece’s nanny, for fuck’s sake. Nothing says I’ve got everything under control like a runaway crush running on low sleep and baby formula fumes.

3

PEYTON

FOUR DAYS BEFORE PEYTON ARRIVES IN NEW YORK

Since leaving San Diego, I’ve watched endless cornfields blur together and passed more roadside attractions than I can count, many proudly claiming to be “World’s Largest” something-or-other. I’ve also eaten all my favorite road trip snacks, crumbs scattered across the front seat. Somewhere between the long stretches of highway and the forgotten little towns, I’ve realized how much I love being on the road. It’s just me, the music and whatever comes next around the bend.

Done for the day, I pull the Impala into the parking lot of the Willow Creek Inn, a cute little B&B just outside Des Moines. My body aches from hours behind the wheel, but the sight of the pale blue two-story house with overflowing flower boxes makes up for it. The charming place is exactly what I need before the next stretch of my cross-country trip.

Grabbing my bag, I step out of the car, the crunch of gravel beneath my shoes grounding me in the present. For a peaceful moment, I stand there, letting the stillness settle around me.

“You must be Peyton.”

I lift my head at the sound of a warm, maternal voice and find a woman standing on the porch, her hands clasped loosely in front of her. She looks to be in her sixties, her silver-streaked hair pulled back neatly, her expression genuine rather than practiced.

“Yes,” I say, offering a polite smile as I walk closer. “That’s me.”

“I’m Maude. Welcome to Willow Creek Inn,” she replies.

I glance around, taking in my surroundings. “It’s beautiful here.”

“Thank you. Long drive?”

“I started three days ago from San Diego, stopped for a night in Flagstaff, Albuquerque and Denver. I just drove from there.”

Maude’s brows lift and a soft, surprised chuckle escapes her. “That’s not just a drive, sweetie. That’s either an adventure or an escape.”