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Temporary Nanny
Carrie Weaver
Can a temporary nanny become a stand-up father? It all starts with a mysterious message from his upstairs neighbour. The next thing he knows, Royce McIntyre is sharing treats with a ten-year-old. But it’s the child’s alluring mum, Katy, who keeps Royce coming back for more.So when a crisis threatens, he surprises the overwhelmed single mother with an offer she can’t refuse… Royce McIntyre may not be like any nanny Katy has ever hired, but he’s certainly the handsomest! And her son really likes him.Together, do they have what it takes to transform a temporary arrangement into a forever family?
“Would you mind hanging out with Jake after school?”
Royce started pacing.
“Royce?” Katy asked.
“I’m here. Just checking my calendar.”
More like stalling for time.
In the past he would have avoided getting tangled up in Katy’s problems. But that was before he woke up in a hospital room unable to recognise his own son because the kid had grown into a man when Royce wasn’t looking. Though he’d failed Michael, maybe he could help out Jake. It was only one day, after all.
“Yeah, I guess I can to it.”
“You don’t sound too sure. I really shouldn’t have asked. My mum can probably take time off work.”
Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m sure. No big deal.”
But it was a big deal. Anyone who knew him well would have been downright amazed.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
With two teenage sons, two dogs and three cats, Carrie Weaver often feels she lives in a state called Chaos (not to be confused with Dysfunction Junction, a place she’s visited only once or twice). Her books reflect real life and real love, with all the ups, downs and emotion involved, and in 2006 she was a finalist for the Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA
Award.
Dear Reader,
I wanted Royce McIntyre’s experience in Temporary Nanny to reflect an injury with which our military troops could relate. My goal was to provide hope during times of trauma.
On the surface, Royce’s life doesn’t resemble that of a soldier. But he triumphs through challenges a wounded soldier might face.
Katy Garner is a single mother struggling to maintain a career and be the best mum possible. Royce is perhaps the last person on earth she’d initially choose to care for her precious ten-year-old son. But soon she realises there’s more to Royce than meets the eye.
I hope you enjoy Royce and Katy’s story!
Yours in reading,
Carrie Weaver
www.carrieweaver.com
Carrie loves to hear from readers through her website or by snail mail at PO Box 6045, Chandler, AZ 85246-6045, USA.
Temporary Nanny
CARRIE WEAVER
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk/)
For my mother, Mary Ellen. Love ya lots, Mum!
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
I’d like to thank Jack Swanson for graciously providing a glimpse into the life of an expatriate in Russia. Any errors are strictly mine.
PROLOGUE
Russia
IT WAS A WELDER’S worst nightmare: the odor of gas.
Royce started diving for cover a split second before the force of the explosion knocked him flat.
That’s when things began moving in slow motion. Debris rained down on him in waves distorted by the lens of his welding helmet. He grunted as jagged metal tore his flesh. The sound of his coworkers’ shouts was muffled by the ringing in his ears.
Dimitri ran to his side and yelled something in Russian.
Hang on. Or the Russian equivalent.
Royce tried to respond, but merely groaned.
Dimitri grasped his right hand, telling him it was going to be okay. But on some level, Royce understood it would never be okay again.
He tried to grasp Dimitri’s shoulder, but his fingers wouldn’t cooperate. Blinking blood from his eyes, Royce focused. Mangled tissue hung from the wrist where his left hand had once been.
A blessed numbness chased away the pain, but chills racked his body. Then darkness descended.
But not before the irony struck him.
Damn.
His ex-wife had been right. He would die chasing an elusive dream.
CHAPTER ONE
Phoenix, Arizona Six months later
ROYCE FUMBLED with his keys. Things came harder these days, even those he was accustomed to doing with one hand.
“You’re sure you’re up to living alone? You’re welcome to stay in the guesthouse.” His sister, Becca, pushed her honey-blond bangs out of her eyes. Even nearing forty, she reminded him of an exuberant cheerleader.
“Absolutely not. You’ve turned your life upside down for me long enough.” He silenced her protest with a pointed look.
At last, he maneuvered the key into the lock. He turned the knob, opened the door and gestured expansively with his good hand. His only hand. “My palace awaits.”
She strode inside and crossed her arms. “This apartment looks exactly like what it is. A furnished place to hide out and feel sorry for yourself. You need a home. You need my home.”
“Like hell I do. It’s about as restful as Grand Central Station. There are kids and pets and old people all over the place.”
“Those old people are my in-laws and they’re very sweet. My kids can be a pain in the rear, but they’ll grow on you.”
He couldn’t allow her to see how tempting he really found her offer. Wife, mother, businesswoman, caretaker—the last thing she needed was her injured brother taking up space with the rest of her strays.
Touching her arm, he said, “I appreciate the invitation. Really. But I need to do this on my own.”
“So why not get an apartment close to me? Or close to Dad in Florida?”
“Dad’s started a new life with Evelyn. He spent enough time raising us, he deserves this second chance. Anyway, Phoenix was home before I started the expat life. Maybe I can figure some stuff out here. Besides, you know, the old McIntyre stubbornness.”
Becca blew out a breath that ruffled her bangs. Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “I have a passing acquaintance with it. Fortunately, the family curse seems to have passed me by completely.”
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. I bet Gabe has a whole ’nother story.”
“Don’t you dare compare notes with my husband. He’s hard enough to handle as it is. It’s going to make me very uneasy with you clear across the country. Won’t you at least let me stay a few days to get you settled?”
“Absolutely not.”
Becca sighed. “Then allow Tess to come visit for a while?”
“No way. The last person I need in the middle of my catastrophe is my ex-wife. I have no intention of wrecking her second marriage.”
Tilting her head, she asked, “You’re not the tiniest bit jealous?”
“No.” The truth was, Royce was a bit relieved that Tess had remarried. Knowing she had finally moved on and found happiness put his guilt on a bearable level.
“I don’t think I could be as easygoing if Gabe ever remarried.”
“Then don’t get divorced in the first place.” He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of which, I bet your husband is eager for you to get home to start your anniversary festivities. Don’t you have a plane to catch?”
Becca touched his cheek with her fingertips. “Royce, I quit being fooled by the tough guy act a long time ago. I know you’re hurting, physically and emotionally. I hate leaving you like this, but I guess I understand wanting to do it by yourself. If you need anything, call. Anytime, day or night.”
Royce cleared his throat. “You bet. Now get back to your own life.”
Becca kissed him on the cheek. “Goodbye, Royce.”
Then she turned and walked out the door.
Royce dropped to the couch, fighting emotion.
The silence echoed louder than the explosion.
Jake tried to appear innocent. He looked his mom straight in the eye, though it took all his courage. He didn’t want Sally to get in trouble. And he didn’t want his mom to worry.
“You be good for Sally today, okay?” She handed him his favorite Diamondbacks baseball cap.
“I’ll be very good.” There. It wasn’t really a lie. He’d just left out the Sally part. She’d called the night before while his mom was in the shower. He’d listened to the voice mail, then deleted it.
“Be sure to ask her to help with your math homework because I might be late.”
Jake nodded. A nod wasn’t a lie, either.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you to school?”
“No. You can drop me off at the bus stop, though.”
“You bet.” She had that same sad expression when his dad didn’t show up to take Jake for the weekend. Like she blamed herself for all the sucky stuff that happened.
He flung his arms around her neck and hugged her hard. Before she could hang on to him and get all mushy, he pushed away and ran to get his backpack. “Let’s go.”
“Sure, honey. Let’s go.”
ROYCE CRANKED OPEN an eye and glanced at the clock. The numerals told him it was four o’clock, even if he hadn’t already suspected the fact. And the infernal tapping had been going on for at least fifteen minutes.
He should get a broomstick and bang on the ceiling so his upstairs neighbor would get a clue. But he doubted it would work. The noise had started promptly at three forty-five yesterday, too.
Cocking his head, Royce decided it wasn’t tap dancing. It sounded almost like Morse code.
Damn. If he didn’t know better, he’d think his pain medication was making him hallucinate again. But he’d quit taking the meds months ago.
Royce listened intently while he removed a bowl from the kitchen cupboard. Then a spoon from the drawer. He poured cereal and milk.
Voila! Dinner.
And who said the one-handed guy couldn’t be self-sufficient? Certainly not his physical therapist, Gus, who led him to believe he’d be as good as new with a space- age prosthesis and a crapload of physical and occupational therapy.
The series of taps intruded on his thoughts.
One-handed man.
“One-handed man,” he murmured, looking heavenward. Was it possible?
“Bring…what? Treats?”
Now he was really losing it. He was imagining an upstairs neighbor tapping out a take-out order in Morse code. And addressing it to the man with one hand.
Last time he’d checked, Royce had been the only one-handed man in the apartment building. Possibly even for miles.
What other explanation could account for the mystery message? There was that cute redhead he’d seen on the elevator. More likely, it was the kid she’d had with her. The boy who looked enough like her to be her son.
More taps.
Definitely bring treats.
Royce booted up his laptop and did an Internet search to refresh his memory of Morse code. When the taps started again, he noted their order, then translated.
