Chapter 3

My first couple of hours at Brooks Greenery passed uneventfully. I was beginning to consider clocking out for lunch when I realized love was afoot. Forget supposition at this point.

I'd never played matchmaker before, but I was tempted to start now.

Maybe that was what my career was meant to be. Forget being a nanny. I hadn't found love myself, but hey, those who couldn't do, could help others, right?

The owners of the two flower shops in town clearly had something sparking between them, and without a push, they'd never make it happen. They were too busy creating sparks of another variety.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Bess, proprietress of A Flower A Day, squabbled with Mr. Brooks about some nonsense that I couldn't quite follow. Something about hybrid roses.

But he had gone quiet and speculative in direct contrast with the louder she became. Which was loud .

Considering we actually had a couple of customers in the store, browsing the many arrangements we had on display for both summertime and the Fourth of July holiday in a couple weeks, you would think that maybe they would want to take their spat into the back room.

But no.

Mr. Brooks actually continued to help customers even as Bess railed at him. He just held up a finger to tell her to wait and paused to speak to whomever needed his help next. I was here too, but obviously, the part-time help didn't have his expertise with flowers.

However, when it came to rocking a wreath with streamers and little star picks and a giant festive bow, I was your girl.

Until a newcomer in town strolled into the shop. Somehow even the bell didn't work as usual when he opened the door.

As if his dark energy stifled the sound.

He didn't look my way at first. His gaze settled on the counter and his voice lashed out at Mr. Brooks. "I need an arrangement."

No politeness at all. Not a please or thank you. Just a demand he expected to be immediately fulfilled.

Mr. Brooks didn't jump to help him, since he was already assisting another customer. So, I waded into the fray.

Later, I'd always wonder why I had. Yes, it was my job, but I was big on following my gut, and this new guy gave off plenty of foreboding vibes.

Even in the height of summer, he wore a dark three-piece suit that screamed money, as did the expensive gold watch dominating his wrist and his fancy wingtip shoes.

I cleared my throat and his gaze snapped to mine. His icy dark blue eyes pinned me in place. "Can I help you?" My voice didn't shake. I actually sounded confident, at least to my own ears.

"Who are you?"

"Madison Masterson." I didn't use my nickname, though I usually did with everyone. He hadn't yet earned the right to know it. "Can I help you?" I repeated.

"I can handle this, Maddie," Mr. Brooks interjected.

"No, Maddie can help me." The newcomer's voice warmed slightly on the nickname I hadn't given him. He stepped toward me, his shoes echoing on the tile floor, and I held my ground, not wanting to give him an inch.

He seemed like the kind of man you couldn't take your eyes off for a second.

"What do you need help with?" I asked sharply as I moved to the counter to grab a pad and pencil.

"I need an arrangement for my real estate agent. I want her to receive it early next week. First thing in the morning, preferably."

I pressed the tip of the pencil into the pad. "Since it's a Friday, we can't process an order that fast on a weekend. Also, with the Independence Day holiday approaching, we're pretty booked."

"Cost is no object." His tone brooked no arguments. "Make it happen or I'll find someone who can."

Bess turned from the counter. "My shop, A Flower A Day, can handle it with no issue."

Mr. Brooks cleared his throat, effectively silencing her. "We can do it too. Do you know what flowers you want, sir?"

The newcomer jerked a shoulder without offering his name. His gaze remained lasered to mine. "Maddie can pick whatever she likes. I'm sure that will be just fine."

Whatever I liked? I wasn't a florist. I'd only worked here for a couple months for a few hours a week. I didn't know what flowers went together best or anything of the sort.

But this stranger's tone didn't indicate he was open to discussion.

Inside, my internal organs were trembling. Outside, I remained composed as I nodded, picking up my pad. "Rush service will be 99.95."

At the counter, Bess gasped. Mr. Brooks probably did in his head too. I didn't even know why I'd said that. We were given rush jobs so rarely that our typical fee was much less. But if cost was no object…

The stranger waved it off as if he didn't care. "Fine."

I expected Mr. Brooks to interrupt and say that wasn't the fee. He did not.

Instead, he and Bess moved to the back room to continue their briefly abated discussion.

At least I assumed. I had other concerns at the moment.

I moved to our lily of the valley display, one of our more expensive flowers, and only around for a limited time in the late spring and early summer. We were already at the tail end of their lifespan. "These are delicate and lovely, but deadly poison."

He narrowed his brutally cold eyes. "Since I doubt she'll take a bite, I'll take those. And what else?"

I wandered around, selecting other flowers here and there by whim—lavender roses and some periwinkle then white carnations to fill in along with some blush dried Italian Ruscus. It probably wasn't a bouquet worthy of that rush charge, but I was doing my best.

Not to mention tall, dark, bearded, and spookily silent followed me around the store as I built the bouquet, saying nothing, making no noise at all. Just looming and making sure I never forgot he was so close behind me.

I wanted to ask his name. It was rare I didn't know people in the Cove. Then I quelled the impulse, figuring I'd find out when he gave me his credit card.

But he paid in cash, so I had no clue who he was.

"You're new in town?" I finally asked after filling out the bouquet's card to his specifications. "Where did you buy a house?"

"By the lake."

I nearly said duh, but I managed to control myself. "Can you get more specific?"

Rather than speak, he moved from the counter to the wide window at the front of the shop and lifted his chin. I followed his lead and moved up beside him, letting out a gasp as I tracked his gaze. "Not the Windsor mansion."

The gorgeous gigantic home was high on a hill overlooking Crescent Lake. I'd heard there was a bidding war after the most recent time the property had come up for sale.

I didn't even know who'd owned it last. Mystery shrouded the property, which was half of its allure.

He smiled, a gesture that held absolutely no warmth. "Now it's the Keller mansion."

Then he was gone without even saying thank you or telling me his first name.

I exhaled into the suddenly loud silence, other than the soft classical music playing through the store's speakers. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room with his absence.

And it was him. Rea's so-called sex trafficking killer who wanted to hire a nanny.

Dear God, obviously, I'd been meant to meet him. Just like his job was meant to be mine.

Calling out an apology to Mr. Brooks, I raced after him, closing the store door so hard behind me that I feared shattering the glass. His stride was so long that he was already halfway up the block, coming to a stop beside a meter as he spoke to a young blond woman in tennis gear. "That'll be all, thank you," I heard him tell her as he turned toward the vintage Jaguar at the curb —holy fuck, a Jag —and bent to wrestle with something in the backseat.

When that something let out a sharp cry, I realized he was ineffectually tugging a child out of a car seat. His child, most likely.

And making him cry from the sounds of things.

Not that the blond cared. She watched him avariciously while she licked her bubblegum pink glossed lips. "Are you sure that's all? I can give you more help with Owen?—"

"No, I'm set." His gaze veered past her to where I stood on the sidewalk and his chilly expression instantly sharpened. "Maddie?"

He remembered my name. It had only been, what, not even ten minutes, but still.

"I don't know your first name."

He said nothing, just cut his gaze to the other woman, who was now staring at me with blatant dislike. Why, I had no clue. Well, other than she didn't like me horning in on her territory, but why would she be into this guy, anyway?

He was rude.

True, he was clearly rich and attractive—what could be seen of his face under the dense dark beard—but he wasn't someone you wanted to spend time with.

And his kid was wailing in his car seat, his tiny face screwed up and bright red, and he didn't seem to be doing a damn thing to try to comfort him.

No wonder he needed a nanny. He probably had grown up with an ineffectual one himself, which was why he had no basic human empathy.

I squared my shoulders and marched forward. "Move," I demanded, indicating he should step away from the open car door.

Considering his generally cold demeanor, I expected him to say something scathing. Instead, his dark brows pitched and he did as I requested, making room for me to step forward.

Well, look at that. He just needed a firm hand.

As did his son, apparently, since his sobs had subsided as soon as I'd bossed around his father.

I forced myself to smile at the boy, though my face felt frozen. "Hi there. Owen, is it?"

He nodded tentatively, sticking out his bottom lip. "Baddie?" His attempt to sound out my name was adorable.

I laughed and gently corrected him. "Maddie. Why are you crying?"

He screwed up his face and flailed his sneakered feet, saying nothing. Gee, he was just like his non-communicative parent. What a surprise. Then he flailed harder and harder still.

"Owen," his father said sharply.

The little boy ignored him, continuing to flail. After a moment, he succeeded in dislodging one sneaker, which made his chubby cheeks crease as he smiled widely.

"What did I tell you," his father said, bending to grab the sneaker.

"Leave it."

His gaze shot to me. "He has to wear his shoes."

"Why?"

That seemed to puzzle him. "Because he just has to."

"He's in the car. He doesn't need to wear them in the car, right?"

"But when we get out, he should have them on. Why are you here?"

Good question. "I applied to your job."

"You did? How do you know it's mine?"

"You included your address and that's the lake house you said was yours. The Keller mansion." My lips twitched. "What's your first name?"

"Jude." His forehead tensed as if he'd imparted some great secret.

Weirdo.

"Well, Jude, nice to meet you." I held out a hand to shake although it took effort for me to keep it steady.

Not that he needed to know that. Time to pretend to be confident again.

Having a fleet of older brothers had taught me well. At least I wasn't easily intimidated.

When he clasped my hand, holding on for a moment too long and not shaking it at all, the woman still behind us huffed out a breath and flounced off with a muttered, "Bitch."

"Hey, what was that?" His voice snapped out like a whip as he finally released me and headed after her. "What did you just say?" he demanded, reaching out to grip her shoulder to stop her flight up the street.

Whoa. Tall, dark, and bearded had another setting besides cold.

"Jude, just let it go," I called after him weakly.

"No. She isn't allowed to call you names. Apologize to Maddie."

Her pale blond brows lifted before she crossed her arms over her heaving chest. A chest that was notably larger than mine, I noticed reluctantly.

A fact that was neither here nor there.

"Maybe I was calling you a bitch, not her," she tossed back before continuing up the street. He just let her go.

I was glad. I didn't want to be the cause of some hissy fit on Main Street.

Because I damn well knew I'd been the target of her ire. As did Jude from the look he directed after her before he shook his head and returned to me next to his car.

"Listen, can we start over?" he asked after a moment, making me do a double take.

"I don't know. Can we?"

"That's up to you." He ran a hand through his hair and gave his son a genuine smile. "Hey, you kept the other one on."

Owen stuck out his chin and pursed his lips, saying nothing. Then he began shaking the other foot, trying to dislodge his remaining sneaker.

I tried not to laugh. I really did. Jude maintained his smile for another moment before he shook his head and blew out a breath. "Clearly, praising you for good behavior isn't the answer."

"Every child is different. Right, Owen?"

He turned his head toward me and continued moving his leg erratically as if I hadn't spoken.

"Do you not like wearing your shoes?" I asked carefully. "Are they uncomfortable? Do they not fit right?" Before he could answer, I touched the toe box of the sneaker he still had on, measuring how much room there was around his tiny toes.

Immediately, he made a face and jerked backward. "Does it hurt, Owen? You can tell me."

He darted a nervous glance at his father before returning his gaze to me and nodding fiercely.

"They hurt, don't they? Are they too tight?"

He pressed his lips together, looking down. Still rotating the ankle of the foot with the remaining sneaker.

"If they don't fit right, your dad wants to know so he can get you a better pair."

When Jude said nothing, I aimed a hard glance at his profile. He still didn't meet my gaze. "Don't you want to get him a better pair? One that doesn't hurt?"

"He was measured at the store," he muttered before hissing out a breath and dropping his head backward. "Yes," he said finally. "I want to get him sneakers that feel good. Ones he loves."

After a moment, a huge smile broke across Owen's face.

Triumphantly, I reached out to muss the little boy's thick sandy brown hair. "I'll come too," I said impulsively, "to help make sure you get awesome sneakers."

"What, I can't handle the task?" Jude's tone was edgy.

"You tell me," I tossed back. "Besides, are you looking for a nanny or not?"

"Why, are you applying?"

"I already have. My resume should be in your inbox. Madison Masterson," I added, reminding him just in case he'd forgotten.

His dark brow rose haughtily, a look he seemed to wear naturally. "And do you presume your experience and references will be up to my standards?"

"I wasn't at all certain before." I glanced at Owen, who was watching our interplay with blatant curiosity. His dark blue eyes were now sparkling with life, not flat as if he was miserable. "Do you have time now?"

Not that I could leave Mr. Brooks in the lurch. But I hadn't yet taken my hour for lunch yet, so I could take a little time to accomplish a task that would show my innate skill with children.

I hoped.

"Time for what?"

"I have a lunch break coming, so we can go get your son new sneakers." I huffed out a breath, coming around to the passenger door, which he swiftly opened for me. "What shoe store did you buy them from before?"

"Kids's Best at the strip mall outside town."

"Hmm, there are better ones right in the Cove. Just about a mile from here. Family Footwear is local, not part of a chain. Do you have time to check it out now?"

He heaved out a breath and circled the Jag to get in on the driver's side. "Sure. Fine. Why the hell not?"

Quickly, he swerved away from the curb and he'd gone all of maybe five blocks when a siren went off, alerting him to pull over. I wrenched my neck to try to see which cop was getting out of the black-and-white vehicle stopping him.

Christian. Of course.

"Oh, Lord," I muttered. "That's my brother."

"Your brother? Why is he stopping me?"

Good question. Jude had barely had any time to drive, never mind speed. As soon as Christian came to his door and asked for his license, he looked past him to me. "Maddie? Where are you headed?"

"We're going shoe shopping for Owen." I jerked a thumb over my shoulder toward the back. "Jude is hiring a nanny."

"So?"

"I might be it. Maybe. Call it a trial run."

My brother narrowed his eyes at Jude and then he glanced down at the license he'd taken out of his wallet. "One of your taillights is out. I'm going to need to see your registration."

"Sure." Jude leaned over to root through his glovebox, putting him entirely too close to my bare legs. I shifted them out of his way as best I could, but he glanced at them out of the corner of his eye while he sorted through his paperwork.

My brother cleared his throat. "I don't have all day."

"Me either." Jude shut his glove compartment—checking out my legs once more—before he provided his registration and settled back into the driver's seat.

They made a few minutes of small talk with my brother commenting on Jude being new in town, so did he have local employment and the like. Jude mentioned something about a real estate business with some local guys and that he knew the Hamiltons, which got a raised eyebrow from my brother.

And then we were finally on our way after my brother reminded him to get his light replaced soon.

"Where the hell can I do that?" Jude signaled away from the curb and rejoined traffic.

"Right there." I tapped the passenger window as we passed by Dare, Gage, and Tish's auto shop conveniently located near the police station. "Dare will get you fixed right up."

"Yay. But we'll get new sneakers for Owen first."

"Yeah. We just need to keep going straight a bit longer and then take a right at the traffic light and then straight down to the plaza on the left."

He aimed a quick glance at the rearview mirror. "Owen, leave your shoe on."

"You'll have new ones soon." I reached back to pat his leg. "Hey, can you find a red car?"

"Why?" Jude demanded.

"Not you, Owen. Distraction," I said out of the corner of my mouth as Jude continued heading up Main Street.

After he turned at the light as I'd said, he kept going as requested until we pulled up to the lot with the shoe store. Quickly, I got out and hurried to take Owen out of his car seat, immediately settling him on my hip still only wearing one shoe.

Jude came around to join us and I could tell he was about to launch his shoe diatribe yet again so I marched ahead with his son, heading into the cheerful store and getting the attention of the salesclerk I knew from college. "Hey, James, this is Owen. Can you help him find some awesome new sneakers? His current ones don't fit quite right though they're new."

"They hurt," Owen said, sticking out his chin before he aimed a look at his father. "Can I have lights?"

"Lights for what?" Jude asked impatiently.

"Probably on his sneakers," James interjected. "We have sneakers with lights, kiddo. Let's just get you measured again and make sure you find some sneakers you love." James glanced at me. "This your little boy, Maddie?"

I laughed it off. We hadn't seen each other in long enough that I supposed it wasn't a crazy question. "You know of some sneakers with lights?"

"Oh, I know lots of things." He winked at me and headed off into the back, indicating we should follow. He had us sit down on a bench while he got out some foot machine gizmo and set about measuring Owen.

A short while later, he went into the back and returned with a bunch of boxes of different sneakers, some with lights, some without. Owen tried on a couple pairs and then walked across the store in them, flexing his feet as I told him to, and checking himself out in the mirror.

"How do those feel?" I asked as Owen tried on a purple pair without lights.

"Okay."

"But you want ones with lights, right? How about these?" I grabbed a blue and red pair off a display with lights all along the bottom.

"Those lights even show when you walk." James indicated a poster on the wall and Owen flashed a delighted smile before trying on that style of shoe in his right size.

"How are those? They fit okay?"

"Yeah, Baddie."

I started to correct him then just shrugged it off and led him by the hand around the store, following the drawn footsteps on the floor into a maze that made him giggle louder and louder. Then I swept him up on my hip again. "Are these the ones? Do you need some socks too?"

He nodded frantically then pointed to blue and red striped socks hanging near the shoes.

A short time later, we aimed for the exit with a bag full of new socks and a brochure after James mentioned I should call him sometime.

Jude was too busy looking my way to pay attention to James, or so I thought. Until he murmured, "Are you going to call him?"

I laughed him off as I helped Owen re-tie his new sneakers, which unsurprisingly, he did not know how to do yet. So, I showed him what I was doing as I tied them, and then I grinned widely as he wore his new sneakers out of the store.

"Looking good, buddy!" I gave Owen a thumbs up.

We headed out and he kept looking back at the glass windows until I finally realized he was trying to see the lights flash as he walked.

"Here, let me show you." I took out my iPhone and took a couple pictures as he walked away before I handed him my phone. "Look how sharp you look, Owen."

He laughed, clutching my phone. "Yeah, Baddie! I like these."

"That's great. I think they're super cool."

We crossed the lot to the car and Jude put the bag in the trunk. "Now what?"

"I have to get back to work, remember?"

Jude frowned as if he had forgotten entirely about my job. What the hell?

I helped get Owen into his car seat and waited as Jude opened the passenger door so I could get in the car. "How much do you want just to…come home with us?" he asked in a low voice near my hair. "We had fun, right?"

Come home with them? To just start the nanny job now? He hadn't even seen my resume yet or called my references.

"Um, yeah, I guess, but Mr. Brooks expects me to come back." Not that I'd even officially clocked out for lunch when I'd run after Jude.

"Okay." He seemed disappointed.

"But I can still help you with your son," I said a few minutes later when he returned to Brooks' Greenery and stopped the car just down the block. "If you want. Just check out my resume and let me know if you need my help."

I waited a beat to give him time to reply, but he did not.

"Bye, Owen," I said over my shoulder. "Enjoy your new sneakers."

"Bye, Baddie!"

I climbed out of the car and shut the door, then I stood there as Jude pulled away, not knowing if I'd ever see him or Owen again.