"Yeah. What do you need?"
"You to take care of her so I can do my job." Finally, there was a hint of a spark about him, a sign that he was more than just an exhausted, grumpy, defeated man.
"Okay. What is your job, exactly?"
"I work mountain rescue mostly, but I also keep a watch for fires and other problems up here. Me and another guy."
It seemed like a lonely, solitary life, but I kept that thought to myself. "Serenity said this was a live-in position?"
"Right." He nodded as if that settled everything. "She quoted you the salary too, right?"
I nodded. "It's generous. Is that because you expect me to take care of her around the clock?"
His dark brows dipped into a frown. "What? I mean, isn't that your job?"
"Yes, but I am a human being, and I require time off work just like anybody else. Usually, parents want to spend time with their little ones in the evening. What was your plan?" My tone probably didn't bode well for this interview, but he wasn't thinking clearly.
"Hadn't made it that far yet." He tried for a grin but didn't quite make it. "I need your help, Rosalee. I'm desperate for it. You want your evenings free? Fine. All I ask is for the first two weeks that you stick around the cabin and help me out, teach me what I need to know to care for her properly. Then your nights are your own."
"That sounds fair."
"Good." He stood, nodding his head as he looked around the room before his gaze settled on me and the baby for several long seconds. Then, he turned and walked out the door without a word.
"Okay." I looked down at the little girl. "He doesn't talk much, does he?"
She made baby noises, and I laughed.
"We have to give you a name." I stood and my gaze swept around the living room. "I guess I'd better make myself comfortable until Xavier comes back." Then I would grab my things from the car, call a tow truck, and then—well, then I would figure out what came next.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
Chapter 7
Xavier
She was too damn much of everything. Rosalee Samuels was a menace. Not to society, oh no. The background check run on her indicated she was a fine and upstanding citizen. But with her upbeat attitude, her sultry voice, and those irresistible curves, she was a menace to my own well-being. She was too damn tempting. Too talkative.
She was too much.
That was exactly why I found myself hiking close to five miles down the mountain to where her car still sat, cocked half on the road and half on the dirt-covered shoulder. The front of the car on the driver's side was a little banged up, but otherwise, the car was fine. A quick look under the hood didn't show any reason why Rosalee couldn't have driven up to my cabin, so I slipped inside because, of course, she'd left the doors unlocked.
"Crazy, naive woman." I pushed the seat all the way back and slipped behind the wheel, turning the engine over five times before it finally roared to life. The damn thing lurched and chugged its way up to the cabin, giving its last gasp of life in the middle of my driveway. "Better than nothing," I grumbled and stepped out.
Stomping all the mud and gravel off my boots, I slipped them off and stepped inside my cabin—what used to be my quiet cabin for one, until a curvy little nanny decided to fill the place with her low, melodic voice. Her softly sung nonsense words sounded from the kitchen, which smelled suspiciously like butter and sugar.
"What are you doing?"
Startled, she gasped and whirled around to turn laughing eyes my way. "You scared me."
"I asked you a question."
She rolled her eyes again as if she found me ridiculous rather than terrifying, the way most people did. "I'm making pancakes. I was starving, and you don't have much. I made enough for two." She smiled as if making breakfast was something she did every day.
"You made pancakes?"
"Yep." She turned her back to me, humming to the baby and flipping pancakes onto a large plate. "I have a lot to do today, and I'll need my energy."
