Did that mean Pepperalreadypassed the Maggie Test?
“All right,” Maggie said, mostly to herself. “Let’s go, Jo. We’re shopping, remember?”
“Oh, yes, Maggie has a da?—”
Maggie slammed her hand over Jo Ellen’s mouth. “Have you ever, in your life, understood the concept of privacy?”
They left on a cloud of laughter and something called Estée Lauder Youth Dew, a bottle he’d seen on his grandmother’s dresser since he was a child.
“So,” Jonah said carefully, “that actually went very well.”
“Did it?”
“I have known my grandmother my entire life. She just blessed you. I’m not joking. That was a benediction.”
Pepper laughed just as Atlas burped warm and happy onto her shoulder, and she shifted him expertly without missing a beat.
He took her through the bottle process, talked briefly about Atlas’s interest in “solid foods” which were really “mush in a glass jar,” all of which was met with a fearless attitude that gave him a shocking amount of confidence.
“Lastly, let me take you down to his domain,” Jonah said, checking the time. “The rest of the main floor is just dining, my dad’s office down the hall, another guest suite, and the big deck. We mostly live out there.” He nodded toward the sliding doors. “Family dinners on the long table. Good sunset hangs in the seating area.”
“Who cooks?”
“Me, mostly. Everyone else when I’m gone, which, I’m told, is not pretty, ’cept for Kate, who’s a good home chef.”
“I can cook,” she offered. At his look, she trilled a laugh. “I’m a chef’s daughter.”
“I’m an architect’s son and can’t draw a stick figure.”
“Well, I don’t have his knife skills?—”
“Who does?” he volleyed.
“I’m happy to cook if Atlas is comfy and fed.”
He regarded her a little more closely, then sighed as they headed downstairs.
He had not asked for any of this. He had asked for a nanny. The universe had sent him his mentor’s daughter, who could soothe his baby in three seconds and make Maggie nod and already fit into this place like she was born here.
The universe was, frankly, taking liberties and flirting with perfection.
“Is that a problem, Jonah?” she asked, clearly not following his thoughts. Or maybe she was.
He shook his head. “You keep surprising me, is all.”
“Just keeping you on your toes,” she quipped.
“Well, you are a ballerina.”
She laughed as they made it to the lower level and stepped into the great room, with its high wood-beamed ceiling and electric fireplace and two comfy couches. The floor was cluttered with toys and a baby play mat, a playpen and stuffed animals and two bouncy seats.
“Welcome to the frat house,” he joked, gesturing to the toys. “Alpha Omega Baby. This is likely where you’ll spend most of your time.”
“It’s wonderful.” She said it like she meant it.
“I wasn’t lying when I said I live in my dad’s basement,” he said. “Normally, there’s a great view and it’s sunny, but we installed the hurricane shutters down here yesterday since my dad is, like, off the charts worried about the storm.”
“It’s really perfect,” she said.
