He managed to pick up the towel and toss it over his shoulder as he folded his arms across his chest to gather himself and buy some time. It was her eyes that threw him. Honey-colored against her brown skin, they were shy and self-conscious. They turned slightly darker, and looked bolder, as she spoke.
“Hello. I’m Maya Rao. I’m here to see Mrs. Mehta regarding the nanny position.” Her voice was confident and had the remnants of a British accent. Sam’s mouth was suddenly unable to take direction from his brain, and so he remained silent.
“Ahem. Um, excuse me?” She furrowed her brow and leaned in toward him. “Are you all right?”
“Oh, I’m fine.” Brain and mouth reinstated communication and he leaned as casually as he could against the doorframe, as if it had been his intention to be silent. He grinned at her in what he hoped was a slow and confident grin, as opposed to an idiotic gawk. “I just had to hear that accent again,” he said, finding himself at last. “It’s as beautiful as you.”
She raised her eyebrows at him, her eyes going cold. “If you could just let Mrs. Mehta know that I’m here.”
Sam uncrossed his arms and turned his body to step aside and make room for her to pass. “Come in. She’s my aunt.” Maya brushed by him, bringing with her the scent of honeysuckle, sending an electrical current through him.
Wet footsteps and a chirpy voice announced the arrival of his girlfriend, Bridget. “Hey, Sam.” She wrapped a possessive arm around him. “What’s going on?”
When Sam didn’t move or speak, Maya turned to Bridget. “Hi, I’m Maya. I’m here about the nanny position.”
Bridget pursed her lips into a smile. “Oh.” Sam felt her arm tighten around him as she waved her free hand toward the back of the house. “Mrs. Mehta is back by the pool.” She glanced at Sam fondly. “He’s helping his uncle with renovations.” She turned to Maya, her voice hard again. “But he doesn’t live here.”
“I’ll take you back,” Sam said, at last able to speak and move at the same time. He unwrapped himself from Bridget and led Maya to the pool, Bridget pointedly trailing behind. “Monica-mami, there’s a nanny candidate to see you.” He felt Maya looking at him as he addressed his aunt, but when he turned to face her, Maya’s attention was on Monica-mami. It happened from time to time. He didn’t really look Indian, so people just didn’t expect him to use Indian terms for family.
His aunt looked up from where she had been reapplying her daughter’s sunscreen, her blond ponytail bouncing along with her smile. “Hello.” She extended a hand to Maya. “Monica Mehta. Nice to meet you.”
Sam stood by, mesmerized by Maya’s smile. A silence fell over the area and he realized all three women were staring at him. His aunt’s green eyes held a smirk in them. “Sam,” she said, “could you and Bridget play with Ben and Niki while I speak with Maya?”
He flushed and hastily turned to Bridget. “Sure, c’mon, Brig.” Sam grabbed a grudging Bridget’s hand and they headed for the pool.
BACKATHISparents’ house, Sam found himself sitting out on the deck in the middle of the night holding an untouched glass of cold milk. He had considered a beer, but he was starting the bathroom remodel tomorrow at his uncle’s and had to be at the hardware store early the next morning, and he already wasn’t sleeping. The incessant chirping of crickets barely registered and he started, as the glass, wet with condensation, nearly slipped from his grip.
He had stayed at his uncle’s house, long after Bridget and Maya had each left, to have dinner with Ben and Niki. His cousins had been unable to talk about anything but their new nanny, whom Monica-mamihad hired on the spot. Maya had won awards in swimming. Maya lived in Queens, but she was living here with her uncle and aunt for the summer—and howcoolwas that? Maya had an amazing accent, didn’t she, Sammy? Sam had remained silent, simply nodding his head, trying not to be thrilled by each additional piece of information the children gave him.
It was the accent, he told himself. Two days of listening to it and she’d be just another pretty face. That was it. What else could it be? He tried to ignore the little voice in the back of his head that insisted that no other girl had ever kept him up in the middle of the night—unless she was in his bed.
He set the glass down next to him and stared out at his battered old childhood play set. He and his brother had climbed on it and jumped off it as children. It would be nice to still have a brother to talk to, but the accident had changed everything. The play set was rusted, with a fraying rope and dented slide. The swing was simply two chains; the seat had long since broken off. He couldn’t convince his parents to get rid of it. Mostly, it was his mother who refused to part with it. After all, Arjun had played on it.
He chugged the milk and went to bed.
SLEEPHADNOTcome until close to sunrise, so he yawned as he entered his uncle’s house and perked up at the scent of brewing coffee. “Sudhir-mama,” he called out to his uncle, “I’m really sorry. I know I’m late but there was a line—” He froze as he entered the kitchen and found Maya mixing something in a large bowl.
She flicked those liquid-honey eyes at him over the bowl, and Sam’s pulse quickened. “Your uncle already left for the office, but said that you knew what to do.” She shook her head at his blank stare. “With the bathroom remodel?”
The kitchen let in a good amount of light, so despite the dark wood cabinetry, mornings here were sun-filled and bright. The addition of Maya to this place unnerved him so much it was like the simple and automatic act of breathing required thought. Her T-shirt and shorts grazed her curves in the most tantalizing way, and her hair was trapped in a ponytail. Sam had to tame his urge to free her hair from its imprisonment. The silky-brown of her skin contrasted so pleasantly with the honey in her eyes that Sam didn’t even care that there was a taunt in them. Inhale. “Um, yeah sure. I mean I do. Know.” Exhale. “I do know what to do.” He didn’t move.
A wisp of dark curl had escaped the ponytail. She tucked it behind her ear as she furrowed her brow in irritation. The action was simple, just tucking away a flyaway piece of hair, but everything about it had Sam entranced, from the graceful movement of her hand to her face, to fingers grasping the dark, silken curl as they pushed it back and over her ear.
“So go do it then.”
Right. He turned and nearly bumped into the doorframe. Real smooth. When had he become such a dork?
CHAPTER FIVE
MAYA
Maryland, 1996
MAYAOPENEDTHEoven and released the deep, rich aroma of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.
“Mmm, that smells amazing.” Sam’s voice was almost as mellow as the melted chocolate.
Maya did her best to ignore Sam. But how did he manage to make chocolate chip cookies sound sexy?
