2. Chapter 2

Rachel

Ada's glorious neighbor gives me a once-over, and heat floods my cheeks.

I give myself a mental slap on the wrist. Bad, bad, Rachel.

Men are off-limits. I swore them off when I promised myself I'd be a responsible adult. I can't go back on that promise with the first hottie I see. Even if he is absolutely drool-worthy.

I lick my lips.

I bet women do that all the time when they see him, but he still seems concerned. "Are you okay?" he asks me.

"No, she's not!" Lisa shouts. "And neither are we!"

At least we can agree on something. I sigh.

I just licked my lips at a stranger while standing in the back yard surrounded by stinky kids.

I grimace. "I need help."

I really do, even if it's not the ‘sweep me off my feet and get me naked' kind.

I don't usually offload on hot strangers, but it's that or lock myself in the guest bedroom and bawl my eyes out. And that's clearly not an option.

"No, we need help," Lisa snaps. "She stole our nana."

I gape at her.

Anna nods emphatically, and her tears turn to loud sobs, while Noah scowls at me like I'm some kidnapper.

"I didn't steal their nana." I rush to explain before Mr. Piercing-Blue-Eyes-Next-Door calls CPS, or worse, the police. "She's on a cruise, and I'm watching the kids until she's back. I'm their godmother."

"She's lying," Lisa snaps.

"No, I'm not. I swear. I really am their godmother." I instinctively reach for Janey's ring and trace its wavelike shape. "You can ask Ada." I hope he knows Ada. What if he's the sort of next-door neighbor who keeps to himself? "You have to believe me!"

"Of course I believe you." He chuckles. "You must be Rachel. Ada told me a lot about you."

My shoulders sag in relief, and I let go of the ring. "All good things, I hope?"

"Bad things," Noah snaps.

"Really bad," Lisa adds.

Anna nods.

I'm inclined to believe them.

Chances are Ada told him I'm flighty, irresponsible, and I abandoned Janey's kids when they needed me most.

"Of course they were all good things," Mr. Bulging Biceps says politely.

I try not to stare at his muscles. They stretch the short sleeves of his polo as he casually rests an arm on top of the fence and watches me with those piercing baby blues.

I flush.

"Ada asked me to check in on you from time to time."

Yup, she definitely told him I'm irresponsible.

He shoots me a winning smile. "I'm Sig."

"He lives next door," Anna says, stating the obvious.

Lisa places her hands on her hips. "Sig's friends with Nana."

"Sig," I repeat, wondering if it's short for Sigmund. Before I can ask, he turns to the kids.

"So, what's going on, you guys? I heard a lot of shouting."

I answer the question before they can accuse me of nana-napping again. "The kids are refusing to shower, but they've got school tomorrow. They can't go looking like this."

"Shower?" He frowns. "Well, that's your first mistake."

Maybe their smell doesn't reach the fence. "They really need one."

"Showers are for chumps. What they need is a bath."

Did I take baths instead of showers at their age? Could it be that easy? I turn to the kids and pray that he's right. "How about a bath, then?"

"No," Lisa says.

I glance at Anna and Noah hopefully. They shake their heads.

I hold in a frustrated sigh. "Look, I get that I'm not Nana. And that you miss her. And that I have no clue what I'm doing here. But can we please just make the best of it? We can order pizza with pineapple tonight." We did that on Monday, back when the kids still thought of me as their fun godmother who sends them expensive gifts on birthdays and holidays to assuage her guilt for not being there.

"I love pizza with pineapple," Noah says wistfully.

Lisa shakes her head. "You can't bribe us with pizza. Nana will get us all the pizza we want when she's back."

That doesn't sound like Ada—who's responsibility personified—but Noah nods. "Nana loves pineapple. She has good taste."

"I like pineapple, too," I lie. Pineapple does not belong on pizza!

All three kids glare at me, and I shoot Sig a ‘help me' look.

He mouths something, and since my eyes are already glued to his lips, I'm pretty sure he's saying "I've got this." Or maybe it's "stop, please." Hell, for all I know, he just mouthed "I love bees."

I raise an eyebrow, hoping to hell it's door number one. Bees wouldn't be much help in this situation… unless he's trying to tell me "you catch more flies with honey than vinegar." Which won't help. Trust me. I tried sucking up to the kids, and it does not work. At all.

"I have an idea." Sig shoots me a slow smile that makes my toes curl. "Who wants to go swimming?"

"I do," Noah shouts.

Anna seems to instantly perk up, but Lisa hesitates. "Are you coming, Sig?"

He nods and turns to me. "Rachel, why don't you pack some swimsuits and clean clothes and meet me out front in ten?"

I hesitate. Wouldn't it be irresponsible to go somewhere with a complete stranger? But the kids obviously know him. And if I don't, there's no way in hell I'm getting these kids to school tomorrow. Ada will have definitive proof I'm irresponsible, and the school might even call CPS, and… and…

Sig knows Ada and the kids, I remind myself. And it's not like I have a better solution.

"Sounds like a plan."

I head into the house and run around like a madwoman, getting us packed in record time. No way am I giving the kids a chance to change their minds.

When I come back outside, the kids are playing a game of catch, and there's no sign of Sig. And unlike him, I'm too short to peek over the shared fence, so I'm forced to walk around to the other side.

When I enter his back yard, I find him sitting on his porch, his back to me, his phone glued to his ear.

"Sig!" I call out.

He jumps. And disappears. As in, vanishes into thin air. Bam!

His phone tumbles down the porch steps and lands face-down on the grass.

On the other side of the fence, things get suspiciously quiet. I need to go check on the kids, but I'm too busy gaping at the rubber duckie sitting on the porch where Sig was seconds ago.

What the actual fu…dge sticks? And look at me, censoring my thoughts like a good guardian!

I've gone insane, haven't I?

I blink a few times.

Sig was just there! I swear he was. Wasn't he? Deep breaths, Rachel!

I close my eyes and open them again. I don't know what to expect to happen. For Sig to re-appear right where he was? For the phone and duckie to disappear, so I can convince myself I imagined the whole thing?

I can still picture him right there, his broad shoulders stretching his blue short-sleeved polo, his arm muscles bulging as he holds his phone up to his ear. He was right there. I swear he was.

Of course he wasn't! Not unless there's an alien running around town with a ray gun that turns people into bath toys.

And just like that, it all clicks.

Kids really can drive you crazy sometimes. As in literally insane. Because a hallucination… is the only reasonable explanation…

And the fact that it rhymes must mean I'm certifiable.