To Nate’s utter astonishment, his children released him without hesitation and took hold of Hannah like a pair of limpets. They skirted around him as if he were a particularly inconvenient garden gnome, heading for the pond and chattering over each other. He stood alone and slightly alarmed, blinking rapidly.
Zach came over to him with a grin. “See? She’s great. She’s like magic. You just accidentally love her.”
Nate decided not to answer that. He turned away from his brother just in time to watch his son spill a cup of algae all over Hannah’s skirt. Oh, shit. Josh and Beth both had their little hands over their mouths in the universal child expression for Oops.
“Sorry!” Josh squeaked.
Nate wasn’t surprised when Hannah said, “It’s okay, Josh. Accidents happen.” He’d expected that, actually. Despite her pristine exterior, she had years of experience working with kids. She wouldn’t have gotten far if she got upset over dirty clothes.
But he was surprised by the look on her face. By the expression that crept over her features after Josh had calmed, after the kids had turned back to the pond and started chatting away, after the other adults in the garden stopped paying attention.
She stared down at the sodden, green-tinged fabric, running her hand over the stain. And she looked…
She looked fucking delighted.
“Caitlin from my class said that nowhere is as good as London because London is where the queen is, but Daddy says the queen is not important anyway so I should like it here. But I don’t like it here.” Bethany Davis had been giving Hannah a calm and detailed monologue on the benefits of London versus Nottingham for at least ten minutes, and she didn’t seem to be running out of steam. Hannah almost regretted asking.
Except not really, because she loved hearing kids talk.
“I don’t like Caitlin that much anyway—Caitlin W., I mean. I like Caitlin G., even though she’s not in my class.” Bethany—Beth—hesitated. Her little bottom lip pushed out a bit as she frowned. “Oh. I am not in my class either.”
Beside her, the mostly-silent Josh shredded leaves diligently.
“That’s okay,” Hannah said. “I think you’ll enjoy your new school, once you get settled in.”
Beth scowled. “Why? I don’t like it now.”
“That’s because you’re new. When you’re new, everything stands out too much, and it makes you feel strange. But once you get used to things, you won’t feel strange anymore.”
Wide, blue eyes blinked slowly. Beth appeared to be considering those words. She looked slightly mollified, to Hannah. But she still asked, suspicion in her voice, “How do you know?”
Nate’s sudden arrival saved Hannah from replying. He’d hung back for a while now, letting her play with the kids—who, it turned out, she adored. Zach had called them demons, but he clearly didn’t have much experience with children. Beth and Josh were smart, funny, creative, and headstrong. As far as Hannah was concerned, those were all excellent qualities in a child—even if they did demand a little extra effort from the adults around said children.
As she’d been drawing that conclusion, she’d also been conscious of Nate’s presence in the garden. She felt him like the ocean felt the moon, she supposed. Those pale, piercing eyes tracked her every move. It was sweet how protective he was over his kids. When he finally approached them, it was with an apologetic smile that brought out that damned dimple and made her heart lurch awfully. Ugh. Feelings were so very excessive, and uncomfortable, too. In fact, emotions were the psychological equivalent of walking on a blister.
“Hannah,” Nate said in that smoke-and-gravel voice. He hadn’t sounded like that all those years ago. “Can I drag you away for a second?”
She turned to Beth. “What do you think? Can you and Josh do without me?”
“No,” Josh piped up. The word wasn’t even a whine; he just said it in this calm, reasonable tone, as if he sadly could not spare her and his dad would have to cope with the loss.
Nate’s lips twitched. “Sorry, kiddo. I’ll bring her back soon.”
“Daddy—”
“Soon! Promise!”
Josh huffed and passed his sister another handful of leaves. Nate smoothed a hand over his sullen son’s hair before looking up at Hannah. “I thought you might want to look around.”
He thought right.
They wandered into the kitchen through the open patio doors, and he quipped, “So. Is it too soon to ask you to move in?”
She allowed herself a smile. “I don’t know. You’re coming on kind of strong.”