Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Deciding to let the pan soak, I shut off the water, and laughing at how wrong she is, I tell Grace, “I was not flirting with your riding coach. Yes, we were talking, but I watched you the entire time, warm up to cool down for both you and Pegasus.”
Drying my hands on a towel, I turn around, and though Grace is grinning, Cameron isn’t laughing at all. His expression is stern, his jaw tight, and his eyes are ice-cold and locked onto me. He’s the definition of mercurial, going from relaxed to harsh in the timespan of a few words.
But before I can reassure him that I wasn’t falling down on my supervisory duties with Grace, she coos, “He was smiling at you and you were smiling back, and you were both laughing. That’s how you know someone likes you.” She nods with all the certainty a pre-teen can muster. “And he said he likes your pink hair and asked you out for a beer on Friday. Riley, that’s literally the definition of flirting.”
“Okay, yeah, you’re right about that,” I admit, “but Miller was just being friendly and welcoming to the new girl.” In reality, it’s more likely that he asks out anything in a skirt to see if he can get under it, but that’s not exactly age-appropriate to tell her. “That’s all, nothing serious.”
“Why not? He’s cute, right?” she demands like a stubborn dog with a bone.
I swear I hear Cameron’s teeth grinding together, but when I chance a quick sideways glance to him, he’s perfectly still and his face is completely blank, so maybe I imagined it.
Treading carefully as I explain my feelings about her beloved coach, I start, “Miller is a good-looking guy.” Grace’s whole face lights up, so I rush to continue, “But not my type. Actually, I’m not sure I even have a type because I don’t date much.”
“Oh.” She sounds disheartened to hear that. “Why not?”
This is awkward as hell. How do I explain to a child that I’m a drifter who craves stability but never quite settles into it, and that people always leave me so I tend to cut my losses before they get the chance in a misguided attempt to save us both the pain? There’s not exactly a children’s book version with cute, fuzzy teddy bears to help explain the mess of a life like mine and its fallout.
“Always moved around too much, I guess. Plus, not everyone likes pink-haired weirdos, you know? Now, if my hair were blue? Or rainbow? Then it’d be a whole different scenario.” I send Cameron a teasing wink, which he answers with a scowl.
“So, you don’t have a boyfriend, but you don’t want to date Miller?” Grace still sounds confused, but at least she’s catching on to the main points of my TED talk.
Nodding, I repeat, “I don’t have a boyfriend, and I don’t want to date Miller.” I make sure each word is crisp and clear so she gets it.
Honestly, right now, I’m pissed at Miller.
If he hadn’t been flirty and charming, I wouldn’t be having this conversation with Grace, which is entirely pointless, and losing whatever progress I’ve made with Cameron.
And more importantly, if Miller had kept his opinions about Cameron to himself, I wouldn’t be wondering which nannies threw themselves at my new boss, only to be rebuffed with a pink slip. Because before today, I hadn’t really cared whether Cameron was a man who would or wouldn’t sleep with his nanny. It didn’t matter since I’m not that girl.
I do stupid, careless, wild things sometimes—like moving across the state with a few days’ notice, with no plans beyond helping an acquaintance. Or running away. Or listening to my gut instincts about which job to take or turn down.
But sleeping with my boss? Nope, not doing that. So the little voice in my head that sounds annoyingly like Miller can shut the hell up because I’m not getting fired.
Well, not for throwing myself at Cameron. For something else? Maybe. Or even probably.
Grace shrugs, accepting my declaration. “That might be for the best, anyway. I think Shana likes him because she asked if I knew where he was last week, and when I told her that he went to a rodeo, she smiled like this.” She lets a lovestruck, vacant-eyed smile wash over her face and then laughs like people are so silly when they like each other. She blinks, her face resetting into her little girl happiness. “Can I have some more mac and cheese?”
And like that, the awkwardness should be over. Grace is no longer trying to pawn me off on her riding coach or making it sound like I was humping his leg during her lesson.
But Cameron’s still glaring at me like I’ve done something wrong. Like the quintessential professional I am, I glare right back, daring him to say one word about it. Because while his face said a whole hell of a lot, his mouth has been downright silent through this whole thing. He didn’t even try to steer Grace away from digging into my love-slash-sex life, basically leaving me to fend for myself. I can handle that, but I bet if she’d been trying to hook Cameron up with Ms. Flanders, he would’ve shut that shit down quick.