“Have you, um, made any progress on that family thing?”
He frowned as he watched Alice’s chubby little arms move. “I haven’t really had time.”
“I see.”
He turned to look at her. Soft brown eyes met his, and something tightened deep inside. “Now you’re disappointed with me for not doing it?”
“I didn’t say that. It’s just—” She sighed. “She’s attached to you. That’s only going to get stronger.”
“And to you,” he pointed out. “You’re the one who’s with her the most.”
She frowned. “Well, that’s one of the dangers of being a nanny. I don’t let her call me mama, though. She did that a few days ago, but I explained why I’m Jenna.”
His heart ached. It seemed as if Sally was being forgotten already, but Alice was young and she wasn’t going to remember her mother at all as time went on. The only memories she would have of Sally were the ones she was given later when she was capable of understanding. Assuming someone was there to tell her about her mother. He had pictures of Sally on his hard drive. He’d make sure they went with her.
“It’s not like opening up a catalog and choosing one of the options,” he said, though in fact it could work like that if he was willing to entertain the idea of strangers adopting Alice. He’d seen the websites of people begging pregnant women to consider them as parents for the baby they were planning to give up.
Always babies, though a blond two-year-old girl would have no problem finding people who wanted her. He didn’t fault those people who wanted to start families and couldn’t have their own for one reason or another, but why couldn’t some of them want a ten-year-old boy? He’d wondered that a lot when he’d been a kid without a home.
“I know. It’s just—well, I won’t be here forever. I thought if you were planning to do this, you might want to get it done before too long.”
“Wait a minute—you were totally against it the last time we talked about it. And now you’re telling me to hurry it up?”
She dropped her chin, and her hair curtained her face before she looped it behind an ear. Jenna had long hair, thick and golden. He found himself wanting to spear his hands into it and find out if it was as soft as it looked.
“You’re the one who’s determined to go through with it. I just figured you might want to get on with it.”
“I’d love to get on with it,” he growled. “For her sake. But I’m not rushing into anything either. It has to be the right people.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything.
He felt suddenly restless inside. And guilty. Like he was wrong for wanting to find a loving family for an orphaned little girl. But Jenna didn’t know what it was like. She couldn’t. She’d had two loving parents and her childhood had been stable. She didn’t know the terror of being told to grab the plastic bag with your things and go with the social worker who’d come to collect you from yet another family who was done with you.
Because you weren’t the perfect little boy. Because you had anger issues and abandonment issues and nobody wanted to deal with that. They expected you to keep it inside and be grateful you were there. Grateful they were giving you a home—except they were getting paid to give you that home and as soon as they couldn’t handle you, they’d send you back and get another child in your place.
It hit him that he was in essence doing the same thing to Alice. Sending her onward because he didn’t want to be a parent to her. Because she was messy and chaotic along with sweet and adorable, and he wasn’t sure he could handle it. He definitely couldn’t handle it alone.
“There’s another option,” he said as a thought occurred to him. It was a crazy thought. A way-out-there thought. Maybe even a colossally bad idea. But sitting in the warm shade of the patio, watching Alice splash with her chubby little arms and feeling the pull of attraction to the woman beside him, it seemed like a decent idea. Even a logical one.
“You keep her and be her fierce, protective parent?”
He nodded. “Yeah… but I’d need help. A co-parent.”
She arched an eyebrow. “A co-parent. What is that?”
He arched an eyebrow in return. “You really don’t know?” She stared at him blankly. “A wife, Jenna. I’d need a wife.”
“Ooookay, sure. I could see how that would work. But where are you getting a wife? Is there a significant other you’ve failed to mention? An ex-girlfriend you want to make another go with? Because I gotta tell you, that seems the exact opposite of stable to me. You want to give Alice a family, not a reason to seek therapy later on.”
He pulled in a breath. Crazy, a voice whispered. Fucking crazy to even consider it….
Well, yeah, he was. It kinda went with the sort of personality that signed up for a job that required being willing to sacrifice one’s life at any moment. Still, it was the only other plan he could think of that might work.
“I mean you,” he said. “Marry me and help me raise Alice in a good home.”
Chapter Twelve
Jenna’s mouth dropped open. She blinked. Heat swirled in her belly and flared beneath her skin. Tiny beads of sweat popped up on the back of her neck, between her breasts.
“I… What did you say?”
He must be joking. Except he didn’t look like he was joking. Blue eyes stared back at her. His expression was serious.
“I said marry me. Help me give Alice a stable home.”
Jenna picked up her tea and took a big swig. What the hell? He hadn’t had quite enough beer to be drunk. Unless he’d been drinking before he got home. She didn’t believe that, though. She’d never seen him drink more than two in an evening. And she’d never smelled it on him when he came home at the end of the day.
Drunk was out, then. High? No, not with his job. Random pee tests were a thing, and he wouldn’t risk his entire career that way.
“I can’t marry you, Noah,” she finally managed.
“Why not?” He seemed almost hurt by it.
She gathered her hair nervously and twisted it on top of her head. Secured it with the hair tie she had around her wrist. Stared at him. He was still watching her. Still waiting.
She’d been trying to work up the nerve for days now to tell him she had to leave, and she hadn’t been able to do it yet. She’d told herself she’d do it this weekend, most definitely. And he’d just thrown her a curve ball she hadn’t seen coming.
“You really can’t be serious. We don’t even know each other. Not really.”
“We can fix that.”
“Noah.” She pinched the bridge of her nose even as her heart thumped like a bass drum. “Good God, it’s not that easy!”
He leaned forward. Put a hand on her knee. Her bare knee. Her body took notice, desire rising to the surface like molten lava.
“I know it’s not easy. I didn’t mean tomorrow. We could see if there’s anything between us. Any spark. If there is, that’s enough to build on.”
Oh, there was a spark all right. There was a shower of sparks waiting to explode if she saw his Adonis belt again—a term she’d just discovered, by the way.