The Single Dad's Virgin Wife

He leaned back and steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. “I see. Well, I can’t say for sure yet that she will be. Miss Tricia and I are still in negotiations.”

“What’s that mean?” Adam piped up.

“It means we’re trying to figure out what would work best for all of us.”

“The best is for her to live here,” Zach stated, his voice quiet but strong.

Silence filled the room as the least talkative of the bunch announced his wishes.

“You just need to pay her a lot of money,” Ashley said.

“It’s not about the money,” Tricia said, looking pleased at the children’s insistence. “Your father pays a very good salary. The issue is that I need weekends off.”

The children all looked at each other. Ashley seemed to take a silent vote. “We’re not little kids anymore, Father. We don’t need to have a nanny all the time.”

“I’ll take it into consideration. Right now you all need to go back to bed and let us discuss it.”

Zach went up to Tricia and shook her hand, one big up-and-down shake, his expression serious. Adam followed suit, grinning.

Zoe came next. “Do you know how to play soccer?”

“I sure do.”

“Okay.” Zoe stuck out her hand for a shake, then left the room bouncing an imaginary ball from knee to knee.

Ashley finally approached. “Please say yes, Miss Tricia,” she said, then gave Tricia a quick hug before she hurried out.

Noah saw how the children affected her. If she could become that attached after just a few hours, she was definitely the right one for the job. It would be a great weight lifted from his shoulders, too.

“So,” Noah said after a long, quiet moment. “Saturday morning to Sunday evening off. And you’ll be here this Sunday night.”

She smiled. “Jessica’s not leaving until Monday.”

“Jessica will be gone by Sunday afternoon.”

“I see.” Tricia nodded. “Is five o’clock okay with you, Mr. Falcon?”

He stood. “Noah. And yes, that’s fine.”

She stood, as well. “I’m curious why you don’t send them to public school.”

“I made a promise that I would continue what my late wife started.” He paused. “I’ll walk you to your car. Where is your car, by the way?”

“Next to your garage. You didn’t notice it?”

“I was preoccupied. Let me go tell the children that you’ve agreed to take the job. They won’t go to sleep until they know. I’ll be back in just a couple of minutes.” He extended his hand, as his children had. “Thank you.”

“I’m very happy we came to an agreement.”

Her handshake was firm, one sign of her character. She seemed straightforward. She obviously could and would speak her mind.

The Falcon household was about to change.

As Tricia stepped outside with Noah ten minutes later, the chilly late October evening cooled her warm face and cleared her eyes and mind.

So. It was official. She was employed. She would have enough money to tide her over until she started her new job.

Peace settled over her at the thought, then the quiet around her struck her. Country life. It was going to take some getting used to. No. A lot of getting used to. But she was probably noticing the quiet even more because Noah hadn’t spoken since they’d left the house.

“Have your children always called you Father?” she asked.

“Yes. Why?”

“You just don’t hear it much these days. Did you call your father that?”

“No. Most of the time I called him a son of a bitch.”

Tricia stumbled. He reached for her, caught her. She grabbed hold, steadying herself, then looked at his face, as he held her upright by her arms. At odds with the coldness in his eyes, his hands were warm, his heat leeching through her sweater. “Thank you,” she said quietly, sorry when he let go. There was something comforting about his large and gentle hands. “Your words caught me off guard.”

“No sense hiding the truth. I made it my goal to live as differently from him as possible.”

“And you called him Dad, so you don’t want your kids to call you that?”

They’d reached her SUV. She pressed the alarm button to unlock it.

“You haven’t been here long enough to criticize,” he said coolly. “Or analyze. I grew up in total chaos. It’s not what I want for my children.”

She opened her car door, wanting to escape. He was right. She should mind her own business. “I apologize, Noah. I was just curious. Everything seems kind of formal between you and your children.” She didn’t add what she wanted to—that they were all distant from him, physically and emotionally. And that they were starving for his affection. Anyone’s affection, which was probably why they’d latched on to her so easily.

“Is there anything you’ll need to start the job?” he asked, very directly changing the subject.

She sensed in him deep, unrelenting pain, and she wondered if he would ever break through it to embrace life again. Or maybe he never had. She shouldn’t presume what she didn’t know. Maybe she could carefully ask other people how he was before his wife died.

“If I think of something, I’ll let you know or just go ahead and buy it in Sacramento,” she said, getting into the car and sliding the key into the ignition. “I’ll review their classroom work Sunday night so that I’m ready to go on Monday.”

“You have my phone numbers?”

“Yes, thank you.” She started the engine then glanced up at him as he rested an arm on the top of her door and leaned toward her a little. He really was an extraordinarily attractive man, even tightly wound as he was. She wanted to tell him that things would get better, that his life was going to change, that she would see to it, especially for his children. But did he want to hear that?

“Do you space out often?” he asked, his voice laced with surprising humor. “Should I worry for my children’s safety?”

Her eyes were dry from not blinking. “You won’t regret that your brother hired me,” she said, wondering if it was true.

“David may have done the prelims, but I hired you. And my children. If any one of us had objected, you wouldn’t be coming back.”

“Of course,” she said, then shifted into reverse. “Until Sunday.”

He backed away, but he was still standing in the driveway when she looked in her rearview mirror before she turned onto the road. Maybe she’d been lying when she’d told him he wouldn’t regret hiring her, because he may well be sorry. She was pretty sure she was different from any other teacher he’d hired before.