The Single Dad's Virgin Wife

That touch, that single, glancing touch through the layers of the jacket, rattled her. She was already worried about falling in love with the children and not wanting to leave in January. She didn’t want to be worried about falling for the father, too.

It’s just hormones, she decided. Long-repressed hormones coming out of years of hibernation, something she’d been hoping would happen—just not with her boss.

Inside the house, she slipped out of the jacket before he could help her, not wanting his fingers to accidentally graze her skin.

“Any questions?” he asked as they moved through the rooms to the staircase.

“Am I free to call you at work if I have any problems? Even ones that aren’t an emergency?”

“Of course. My assistant’s name is Mae. She’ll know to put you through. Better yet, just call my cell. I’ll always answer if it’s you.”

“Okay. I think that’s all for now. We’ll probably have things to talk about tomorrow. I would appreciate your letting me know if you’re joining us for dinner, so I know whether or not to wait for you.”

He looked annoyed. “I have business in many time zones. Sometimes I have to stay late for a call. I’ll try to be here. That’s all I can say.”

Based on what David had told her, and on her own observations so far, Tricia knew Noah did his best to avoid being at home. That needed to change. “Your children miss you, Noah.”

He looked about to fire back then smiled instead. Sort of. As if someone was making him. “I will try,” he said quietly but resolutely. The boss, after all.

She didn’t like his answer, but took it no further. However, she wouldn’t hesitate in a week to remind him again of his responsibility to his children.

Tricia waited to be dismissed. Since she hadn’t held this kind of position before, she wasn’t sure of protocol, but she figured he would be the one to end the discussion.

“All your questions are answered?” he asked.

“For now.”

“Then I’ll say good-night. I hope you’ll be happy here, Tricia.”

“I’m sure we’ll have a lot of fun together. The children and I, I mean.”

“I know you’re used to kindergarteners, who mostly just play.”

“Please don’t insult me,” she responded. “You won’t find their education lacking because of my teaching skills.”

“I didn’t mean—” He stopped, took a step back. “Good night.”

As she climbed the stairs, she watched him walk toward his office. Sympathy rose inside her. For all that he was successful in his work and had four beautiful children, he was not a happy man. And not just because he still grieved for his wife, she decided. Maybe he’d never been happy. Obviously his childhood hadn’t been good, his father no kind of role model, although Noah didn’t seem to be anything like his own father.

Tricia shut her bedroom door and leaned against it. She was in a tough spot. Three months to help them as a family—because that had become her primary goal now that she’d met them—and still be able to walk away.

Get out now, she told herself.

The shouting in her head got louder and louder. She should heed it. She knew she should. But superimposed over it were the faces of the children, who needed her.

And Noah. Who perhaps needed her even more.

Life’s short. Make it an adventure. Her brand-new mantra began shouting even louder, reminding her of her own needs, which she’d promised herself she wouldn’t forget. She was entitled, too.

But for the moment, she needed to be here, with this family.

Having an adventure.

Chapter Five

Noah pulled into the driveway the next night at six-thirty. He hadn’t called when he left the office, and he could’ve called from his cell phone at any time, yet he hadn’t.

He didn’t know why. He wasn’t rude, generally. Oblivious, maybe at times, but not intentionally rude. And it hadn’t slipped his mind, because she hadn’t slipped his mind. Tricia. He hadn’t even been working, but reading trade magazines so that he wouldn’t get home until a half hour after the usual dinnertime, although it was two hours earlier than his norm for the past year.

If he really wanted to figure out why he’d deliberately stalled, he could call his brother Gideon, who wasn’t a psychologist but understood human nature better than most people.

Noah didn’t want to know why.

He made the long walk from the garage to the house. No one opened the back door to greet him, although the dining room lights were on, and they all would’ve seen his car turn into the driveway, his headlights arcing across the window. Maybe they were done eating.

Margie would have had the kids racing to the back door to greet him.

He reached for the door handle, then stopped and reminded himself that his world had changed forever. There was no Margie. No wife. Even though the At Your Service agency where David had found Tricia was nicknamed “Wives for Hire,” Tricia wasn’t his wife. Except she was doing an admirable job of filling many of Margie’s roles….

But no sex, of course. That was in the contract they both signed, although he wouldn’t have gotten involved with an employee, anyway. It hadn’t been an issue with any of the other nannies, contract or not. Tricia was the first one to even tempt him.

Noah entered the kitchen just as they were carrying their dirty dishes in, Ashley leading the way. Accusation and disappointment hit him full force from her expression alone. Why? He hadn’t made it home on time for at least a year.

“Hi,” he said, setting his briefcase on the counter.

“Hello.” She turned on the faucet and rinsed her plate. She opened the dishwasher and slid her dishes inside then left the room.

“Dinner was good,” Adam said. He put his dishes in the dishwasher without rinsing.

Zoe followed suit. “Beef stew,” she said in way of greeting.

Then Zach, whose expression was even more accusatory than Ashley’s. Why? What had he done?

Zach took his time rinsing his plate, using a cloth to get every bit off the plate and silverware, then loaded them. Finally he looked at Noah. “You promised to be nice,” he said, then left.

Ah. So part of being nice was being home for dinner. Okay. Noah understood now.

“Hello, Noah. Did you have a good day?” Tricia said as she brought her own dishes in.

He was not in the mood to be chastised, directly or indirectly, and her tone indicated she was doing exactly that. He was especially annoyed because she’d been intruding into his thoughts all day already. “This is your doing, I assume.”

“My doing?” She rinsed her dishes, avoiding looking at him. “Your children seemed to think things were going to change. I have no idea what or why. All I know is, you didn’t call to say you were on your way home, so we ate without you. What’s wrong with that?”

“I meant having the children doing dishes.”

She looked startled. “That’s what you’re mad about?”

No. He was angry that his children were barely speaking to him, but he couldn’t blame Tricia for that. “I don’t want them doing chores.”