“Nowhere Market. Basically, I decide what goes on the shelves.”
“The one in Venice?”
“The very same. But I make the decisions for all ten stores,” I said.
“Kinda far.”
I blew out a breath. “We wanted this school district, so we sucked it up with the more expensive rent. But now . . .”
“He’s not in the picture,” Jack finished.
I bobbed my head. “Right.” Why was I talking about my ex with the man who’d been watching my kids? “I really don’t know how to thank you. Do you like cookies? Pie? Cake? Some other non-sugary vice? Want me to watch your kids sometime so you can get a break?”
Jack’s lips pressed together, dismissing me. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not worried,” I said. “I just need to know what you like.”
All emotion was scrubbed from his face, a completely blank man with hollow eyes in front of me. “Anything.”
There was something so dreadful and miserable in that one word: anything. “No allergies?” I asked gently.
“No. Don’t do anything. The kids were happy here. They were easy. You’ve got good kids. I don’t need anything.”
His phone chimed and mine buzzed, announcing an incoming text. He flicked a look at his watch, which was one of the flavors that showed your text messages. “Kids aren’t suspended. You’re copied on the thread.”
Air whooshed from my lungs. “Thank god. Now Aspen doesn’t have to come to work with me.”
“Right?” Jack sighed. “It would have been tough to get my nanny to come in on short notice.”
I nodded, trying not to want to kick him in the shin because he could have something like a nanny. That would never be within reach for me. The only babysitting I could afford was Gabi’s free babysitting for when I needed to run out and do something without the kids. Or sometimes she made me go sit at a bar or a coffee shop alone. She didn’t have kids, but she’d had a single mom and knew the value of alone time.
“Well, we should get going.”
“Yeah, let me get your car seats put back in.”
Okay, it wasn’t fair to want to kick a man who was willing to do unlimited favors for me without thanks. In my excitement, I stood too fast. I wobbled and my vision blacked out. Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, or POTS: where the simple act of standing can make you pass out. I stumbled and almost ate it on the garage floor, but a hand clutched my elbow and I just crashed into Jack’s chest.
“Hey,” he rasped, and the huskiness of it made me woozy for a whole other reason. “You good?”
My ear was still planted against his chest, his heart thumping under it and his breath fanning over my forehead. “I’m great!” I chirped even though my vision remained littered with black.
My vision slowly returned, looking into his concerned deep chocolate eyes. “You sure you don’t need to eat?”
“Yes, thanks, I’m fine.”
He eyed me sidelong and grabbed his keys off a hook to unlock his car. While Jack reinstalled the car seats, I focused on rounding up my kids and saying our goodbyes to Harper and Jace. Jack’s shirt rode up, revealing a flash of extremely toned abs. What business did they have being a little tan? He played a winter sport.
Regardless, a part of me that was so long dead I thought it was gone forever wanted to lick those muscular lines. I was still in a daze when he came to take Hazel from me.
We were all loaded up and Jack stopped by my window. “Hang tight for a second?”
“Uh, sure,” I said, feeling like I was in no position to just peel out of his driveway after he did so much for me.
Jack emerged from the house with a Tupperware container in hand. “Here. Dinner.”
My eyes rounded and I swear, I considered leaning out the window and just planting a big whopper of a kiss on him. Noone, and I mean no one, had taken care of me like that. Ever. Not Bryce. Maybe Gabi. But not like this.
“Oh my god, Jack, thank you,” I said, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice.
