“Maybe because I’m a nice person,” I said defensively. “Okay, I’m not actually a nice person, but I’m trying to be.”
His face softened at that. “I think you’re very nice.”
Why did that thrill me and make me feel warm all over? It shouldn’t have. “You don’t even really know me.”
“Not in the way I’d like, no. But you are nice and it’s not up for discussion.”
Well, okay then. I preened internally over his words. Not wanting to keep going down this road where he said sweet things to me that would eventually weaken my resolve, I asked, “How long are you planning on being in Aspen?”
“Ollie and I had originally hoped for Sophie and me to be here for a fortnight.”
Confused, I asked, “Like the video game?”
“No,” he said with a smile. “It means for about two weeks.”
I frowned. That didn’t feel long enough. I wanted him to stick around. “Then you should have just said two weeks. Anyway, the Crawfords and—” I cut myself off. I’d almost said “and I,” which would mean that I’d been a part of it. Which I had been, but I didn’t want Griffin to know that. “The Crawfords have a really good schedule set up for Milo with lots of activities. I could email that to you and maybe you guys could tag along and the kids could spend more time together. They seem to be getting along really well.”
“That would be brilliant!” Griffin’s relief was evident and he looked over at the kids, who were currently on a teeter-totter. “It would be a shame to split them up. They seem to be kindred spirits.”
Then he turned his gaze back to me and I suddenly got the distinct impression that he was talking not about Milo and Sophie, but about us.
“Playdates are not actual dates,” I told him, ignoring the way my pulse was dancing. “Don’t get any ideas about them being dates in sheep’s clothing.”
He held up both hands, as if under arrest. “I hadn’t thought anything of the sort.”
This was all for the kids, I told myself. It had nothing to do with me wanting to see him and spend time with him. Nothing. “Okay. Just so long as we’re clear on that.”
I figured one of us should be.
“Truly, you’re saving my life here. Thank you.”
“What does one get for saving an earl?”
His eyes darkened—shifting from a viridian green to a dark forest green—and my breath caught in my throat when he said, “Anything you desire.”
I gulped at his words and told my throbbing pulse to knock it off. Because my body apparently had all kinds of desires that it wanted to share with him. I coughed once, trying to clear my throat so that I could speak. We were not going to talk about what I wanted. I deflected by asking, “So, are you worried about losing all your money?”
His mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile. “You change the subject a lot.”
Admittedly, I had been doing it in a fairly obvious way, but people usually didn’t notice. Everyone liked talking about themselves and when you asked them a personal question, they assumed you found them just as fascinating as they found themselves. It surprised me that Griffin seemed a bit resistant to it, and that he’d noticed I was doing it. It said a lot about the kind of person he was. Not as self-centered as you’d expect a guy like him to be. “You didn’t answer the question.”
“I suppose I have to answer since I do owe you one . . . Am I worried about losing all my money? Probably more than I should.”
I wanted to tell him money didn’t matter, but how could I? In my current situation money was the only thing that mattered. “I know I should offer you some pithy quote. But all I can come up with is ‘money doesn’t buy happiness.’” It did, however, buy kidney-transplant surgeries, and at this point it was basically the same thing as happiness.
“What about ‘money is the root of all evil’?” he offered.
“If that’s true, then I guess you’d be better off without it.”
“It’s just difficult to have your whole life be one way and then be faced with the prospect of it all going away and everything being totally different.”
“I know exactly what you’re talking about and honestly? It’s not so bad. You learn and adapt,” I said.
“Like I mentioned, I’m not always quick at the adapting-to-change part. I just don’t want everything to fall apart around me.”
I felt that same urge from earlier to reach out and reassure him. Instead I said, “Again, I know exactly what you’re talking about.”
It was kind of eerie how he was saying things that perfectly expressed how I was feeling. I didn’t want everything to blow up around me, either.
Which I needed to keep in mind when it came to Griffin. I tried not to think about how he’d shared something really personal about himself, something that I could have used to make money. He probably thought it was safe to tell me because if I were also wealthy, I wouldn’t be tempted to call a tabloid and offer this whole story to them for a payout.
Obviously, there was no way I’d do it. I couldn’t hurt him like that. For a moment it looked like he was going to ask me what I meant, but then it passed and he didn’t say anything. Maybe I should have told him something private about me. Evened out the playing field between us.
Or I could give him a way to help me out. “If you owe me one, I know how you can repay me.”
“Oh?” This interested him, his eyebrows raised in anticipation, that seductive smirk of his twisting his mouth to one side.
I told my hormones to behave. “Not that.”
“If it is ever that, just let me know.”
“Not going to happen. Anyway . . . can you teach me how to ski?”
That sexy expression slid off his face and he asked in shock, “You came to Aspen in January and you don’t know how to ski?”
“No,” I said defensively. “I mean, I understand skiing in theory.”
“There isn’t a ski theory. You either do it or you fall. There’s not much philosophical wrestling happening out on the snow.” He flashed that grin at me again, the one that made me weak-kneed and caused me to forget all of my good intentions.
“Milo’s parents want him to learn but he’s pretty resistant,” I offered, turning my gaze away from him. Why was he so tempting? “I said I’d help out, but he won’t tell me why he doesn’t like it.”
“The best thing to do with boys to get them talking is to be doing something else while you chat.”
“Does that work on you?”
He let out a short laugh. “We’re busy watching children and meanwhile I’m here confessing all my family secrets, aren’t I?”
“Fair point.”
“One of my nannies did that with me growing up. She would get me out playing football and then talk to me about my problems. It was really effective.”
I drew in a sharp breath. Was it my imagination or had he emphasized the word nannies? Maybe my guilty conscience was getting the best of me.
Or was he saying that he knew I was a nanny? I turned back to look at him, but I didn’t see any accusation in his eyes.