Irresistible (Cloverleigh Farms #1)(58)

“Sounds like they adore her.”

“They do.”

“And it seems like she spends a lot of time with them.”

Was I imagining it, or was there a note of suspicion in my mother’s tone? It made me feel a little defensive. “Well, Miriam Ingersoll broke her leg a couple weeks ago, so Frannie had to fill in. They saw a little more of her than usual.”

My mother gasped. “Oh, no! Poor Miriam. Thank goodness you had extra help.” Her voice grew curious again. “I hear Frannie is doing more than just babysitting at your house.”

I almost choked. “What? Who said that?”

“Felicity said she’s been cooking dinner.”

“Oh.” I relaxed a little. “Yeah. Sometimes, if I work late.”

“That’s awfully nice of her.”

“She likes to cook for people,” I said, feeling defensive again. “And she lives alone, so she doesn’t get to do it very often.”

“How old is Frannie now? Last time I saw her, she was probably close to Millie’s age.”

“Twenty-seven.”

“And you said she lives alone?”

“Yes.” Suddenly I knew where this was going.

“Is she attractive?”

“Mom.”

“What? I’m just trying to picture her,” she said innocently.

I exhaled. Counted to three. “Yes. She’s a pretty girl.”

“Is there something going on between you two?”

“Jesus, Mom!”

“I’m only asking because I think you need to be very careful. The girls have been through so much and it could be confusing and hurtful for them to see you with another woman so soon.”

“I know.”

“I’m not saying you have to be alone for the rest of your life, but they’re just so young, and they’ve still got to be traumatized about their mom running off with another man. Deep down they’re probably afraid of losing you that way too. You want them to feel one hundred and ten percent certain they are the most important people in your life.”

“They do,” I snapped. “I don’t need to be told this.”

“And maybe it would be best not to take up with their beloved nanny,” she went on. “I mean, what happens if you two have a fight and she quits? Then the girls lose her too.”

“And it would be my fault. I get it.”

“I’m not blaming you for anything, darling. I know how hard this has been for you, and I feel awful we’re not there more often to help you out. But the extreme cold is bad for Daddy’s blood pressure.”

“We’re fine, Mom. I’m managing.”

“Of course you are. You’re a wonderful father, and I know you love those girls to pieces. But I also know you must be lonely too, and with a pretty young girl around so much, I can see how tempting it would be to … take advantage of the situation.”

“I’m not taking advantage of anything!” I yelled.

“Okay, okay. I didn’t mean to upset you, I just want to make certain the kids are protected.”

I closed my eyes, my jaw clenched hard. I knew she meant well, but I was about to lose my shit. Did she think I didn’t understand the gravity of the situation? Did she think I took this lightly? “The kids are my number one priority, Mom. They always have been. And they’ll stay that way no matter what.”

“Good. Well, I’ll see you Thursday then, dear.”

“Have a safe trip.” I hung up and stood there fuming for a moment, wishing I had a heavy punching bag in the house so I could hit something as hard as I wanted to. I wished I had a motorcycle I could take off on for days. I wished I could down half a bottle of whiskey and drown out my feelings.

But I couldn’t do any of those things, because the kids were upstairs waiting for me to put them to bed, and that’s the guy I had to be.

Every. Single. Night.





*



Later I was lying in bed, my mother’s words weighing heavily on me, when my phone buzzed again. It was fucking Carla. I should have ignored it, but I sort of felt like punishing myself.

“Hello?”

“Who’s Frannie?”

“What?”

“Frannie. Millie texted me all weekend about Frannie this and Frannie that. Who is she?” From the way Carla was slurring her words, I knew she’d been drinking.

“Frannie Sawyer. From Cloverleigh. She babysits for them.”

“Is she my replacement?”

“I’m hanging up, Carla. You’re drunk.”

“Are you fucking her?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“The hell it isn’t. I’m their mother. How dare you bring some little slut into the house? How old is she, twenty-two?”

“Twenty-seven,” I said before I could help it.

She squawked with laughter. “Well, I get why you’re chasing her around, but what the hell does she want with you? Does she think you have money or something?”

My jaw clenched. “She knows who I am.”

“Oh, so she’s a mind reader? Because you never told me who you were. And why does Millie think she’s so great?”