“I’m guessing you already found another position.” When she didn’t respond, he continued. “Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll add twenty percent.”
That brought her up short. “You want to hire me? Even though I’m scandalous?”
“I never said…”
“Please.” Charlotte’s little voice was barely audible.
His niece never spoke to strangers. She hardly ever spoke to him.
This woman had somehow connected with her in a way he’d seen nobody else do.
If Miss Wright didn’t agree, Charlotte would be crushed. And he would do anything, even risk scandal, to avoid that.
“Is it still a live-in position, even though I’m…” Her voice faltered, and for the first time, he picked up a hint of insecurity.
“Attractive?” he prompted. When she just blinked those large, innocent eyes, his rogue body went a little haywire. “We’ll just have to be very careful not to give off any vibes.”
“I see.” She looked at Charlotte again, eyes sparkling. “We must promise to have no vibes. We must be vibe-less, Charlotte. Completely vibe-less.”
Charlotte giggled. She put her hand on Noah’s cheek and said, “Can you be vibe-less?”
She’d spoken a complete sentence.
He swallowed a rise of hope. In a few minutes, Miss Wright had gotten closer to his niece than Mrs. Dechambeau had in days.
“I’ll do my part.” He focused on Miss Wright again, speaking the words with a confidence he didn’t feel.
He was going to have to trust somebody, and his first instinct had been way off. Delaney Wright had already proved her ability to not only care for Charlotte but also to draw her out.
He’d have to trust her, despite the definite existence of vibes—even if they were only on his part.
CHAPTER SIX
The next morning, Delaney woke in her new room at the Aylett house, still coming to terms with the events of the day before. She’d gone from depressed and despondent, ready to give up her dreams…to this.
The bedroom felt like a sanctuary from another time. She ran her fingers along the ornately carved bedpost, admiring the rich mahogany that glowed in the sunlight filtering through lace curtains. The four-poster bed dominated the space, its matching dresser and armoire pushed against walls painted a soft sage green.
An area rug in muted blues and greens covered most of the hardwood floor, its intricate pattern pulling the room together. Her toes sank into it as she padded across to examine a small writing desk nestled in the corner by the window.
Back in Shadow Cove, her bedroom had been all whites and pastels, filled with modern furniture with clean lines. She’d wanted a simple space so that the focal point would be the view from the window—the rugged Maine coast.
This room was nothing like that, with its antiques and character, yet it felt more like home than anywhere else she’d stayed since she’d left that summer.
On the dresser, a collection of silver-framed photographs caught her attention. Delaney moved closer, drawn to the smiling faces. A striking brunette woman stood beside a tall light-haired man with Noah’s jawline and serious eyes. His parents, she guessed. In another frame, a teenage Noah stood with his arm slung around a younger boy, who looked enough like him to be his brother. Maybe this was Charlotte’s father. Mr. Aylett still hadn’t explained how exactly he’d become her guardian, but Charlotte had called him “Uncle Noah” a few times the night before.
Delaney picked up the third photo, this of the older couple and the two boys, though they were younger here, perhaps ten and seven. The photo had been taken in the living room—the one she’d seen when Mr. Aylett had shown her around when she’d first arrived. In the photo, there was a Christmas tree in the corner, a few mugs of hot chocolate or coffee on the tables, and used wrapping paper strewn across the floor.
The family looked…happy. Just plain happy.
Where were Noah’s parents? Where was his brother?
What events had transpired from the Christmas in that photo to today?
She set the frame down and moved to the window, where she shifted the curtains aside and peered out. By the time she’d gotten here the night before, the sun had set. This morning, she saw that her second-story room looked over a small yard hemmed in by a hedge of evergreen bushes. On the other side was a narrow road that separated the property from a sandy beach and, beyond that, theAtlantic, shimmering gold beneath the sunrise.
Though Delaney was far from Maine, those waters were as familiar as her reflection. The Atlantic made her feel at home. It was why, in the previous few months, she’d never ventured far from the coast, even though the cost of living was so muchhigher than if she’d gone inland. Somehow, it felt like, if she stayed near the ocean, she would stay connected to her sisters and her parents. She longed for them, but the homesickness was a little lessened today. Today, she had a higher purpose than just keeping herself alive.
Delaney showered and dressed in jeans and her favorite soft lavender turtleneck. She arranged her hair into a low ponytail and hesitated in front of the mirror.
