I gritted my teeth. “I’m not most people.”
He chuckled, but somehow I didn’t feel like he was making fun of me. “I’d gathered that.”
We stood there for a second—me with my half-peeled banana, him looking aggravatingly calm—and something in mychest twisted. I hadn’t invited this. I hadn’t asked for anyone to step in, but he had. Winnie had accepted him with open arms, and now there we were.
My eyes narrowed at him. “Don’t you have a job?” I looked around the duplex. “Somewhereelseto be?”
Austin’s cheek twitched. “I’m employed.”
I shot him a blank stare.
He chuckled and added, “I was working at the marina, but stepped away from that. Right now I am helping Wes’s construction company while he’s recovering. In fact, I’m working on a jobsite at Star Harbor Farms for your sister.” His shoulders lifted. “It’s physically demanding work, but I’m finding I actually enjoy it. The hours are flexible and the pay is more than fair.”
I eyed him again. If anyone knew I was actually considering accepting childcare help from a one-night stand, I’d be the mockery of the school pickup line. As if their pity glances weren’t enough, if they knew my only option was big-dick energy with a winning smile, my status astragic messwould be officially cemented.
Still, it was hard to deny the convenience of a caretaker right next door who could accommodate before-andafter-school care.
Shit.
“Just for this week.” I rubbed my temple. “Until I can figure something else out.”
Austin’s smile was subtle, but it was there. “Sure. Temporary works for me. You’re the boss.”
Winnie popped out of her chair like a jack-in-the-box. “Does that mean you’re my nanny?”
Austin choked on his coffee. “I think ‘awesome neighbor helper guy’ is a cooler title.”
She tilted her head. “Do I get to make you a name tag sticker?”
He gave a solemn nod. “Only if it has glitter.”
The timer on the stove buzzed—a reminder I’d set ages ago to switch the laundry that I never actually put in. I groaned, rubbing my eyes. “I need ten minutes. Can you keep an eye on her?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Go.”
I hesitated anyway.
“Selene,” he said, voice low and even. “We can survive ten minutes. I’ve got her.”
Something in his tone—something steady and unflinching—made it hard to argue. So I nodded and backed out of the room, only half listening to Winnie tell him her favorite knock-knock joke for the third time this week.
Halfway up the stairs, I realized I was breathing easier.
And that scared the hell out of me.
SEVEN
SELENE
Winnie didn’t seemto care that we were already late for school. She skipped half the way there, swinging her lunchbox and singing a made-up song about unicorn crackers. Austin strolled beside her like we were just out for a walk in the sunshine and not barreling toward an unexcused tardy slip.
I checked my watch for the third time in as many minutes. “We should’ve left fifteen minutes ago.”
Austin gave me a side glance. “We’re already on the way. Unless you’ve got a teleportation device stashed in that purse, I don’t think we can do much else.”
His tone was easy, teasing, which only made my anxiety spike harder.
I gritted my teeth. “I don’t like being late.”
