Honey

Breathing in and out had never seemed so hard until today. I could do this. It’d been almost five years. Based on the information I’d gotten from the agency, it was unlikely he even lived here. I was to meet a Jackson Turnball.

I sucked in my gut, pulled up my big-girl panties, and knocked.

Light footfalls sounded on the other side of the door. I closed my eyes. If he lived here, he had a family. How could I possibly work here?

The door opened and a tiny face looked up at me.

“Jamie,” a deep voice called out from somewhere toward the back of the house.

With hair bluntly cut just below the ear, I wasn’t sure if the child was a boy or girl, though the pretty face was just a little too pretty for a boy.

Beyond her, the house didn’t look much different than the last time I’d seen it. It had a modern country feel with a leather sofa in the open living room, and a modern kitchen sitting behind it.

When the man himself came into view, I swallowed hard. He was just as beautiful as I’d remembered. Tall and leanly muscled, his arms looked strong enough to pick up a car. Scruff covered his jaw, making my panties damp at the mere sight of him.

His eyes narrowed and I wondered if he even remembered me. I’d lost a few pounds, but not enough to drop more than a dress size from the last time I’d seen him. I didn’t think I looked all that different.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

His voice was husky, spiking another jolt of lust in me.

“I’m here for the job.”

His focus darkened. “They said to expect a Hillary Hunter.”

I pressed a hand to my chest. “That’s me, though I’ve never been called Hillary a day in my life. It’s always been Honey.”

“Honey Hunter?” There was a hint of humor in his tone.

“Exactly. I know you didn’t expect to see me again, but I’m here.” I glanced around. “So, where’s the patient?”

The tiny voice that spoke next had us both glancing down.

“Gggrandpppa hhhhad an acacaccident. Hhhhe’s out of bed.”

The man forgot all about me and darted to the left and disappeared down a hall. I followed at his heels, coming up short as we entered a room fit for a king.

“Damn these old legs.” An older man, who stood in nothing but a shirt, stared at the bed like it was cursed.

The room smelled like ammonia. I moved around the son, who stared at his father in shock.

“I know what you mean. Getting old is a bitch. I laugh or sneeze too hard and I tinkle on myself. It sucks something awful,” I said.

The man before me stared through narrowed eyes. “Don’t judge me,” I teased. “I can’t go a day without worry I might have an accident.”

It wasn’t exactly the truth, but that wasn’t needed in this instance. I waited until a grin sprouted on the man’s face and he let out a belly laugh. Good thing his shirt was long enough to cover all the man bits since the child was now in the room.

“Who is this woman? I like her,” the father said.

“I like you too.” I offered a helping hand.

“Jake, hire this woman.”

“But,” Jake sputtered, “she’s—”

“Hired,” the man said.

I spotted the bathroom. “Why don’t we get you into a nice hot bath?” I prayed there was a tub after blindly making that statement.

The cheery old man gazed at me wickedly. “Are you going to join me?”

“Dad,” Jake said. “Jamie’s in the room.”

I turned to face Jake, but looked to Jamie. “Would you mind fetching me some clean sheets and towels?” Jamie nodded and darted off. I turned back to Jake. “You can help by removing the sheets.”

I didn’t give him time to answer, especially given his scowl. First impressions were everything. If I had a prayer’s chance at landing this job, I needed to show Jake that I could handle any situation thrown at me. As it stood, I guessed he only saw me as the tart that had gotten him off after only knowing him a short time. If I wanted him to see me as more than a one-night stand, I had work to do.

“I usually like to know a woman’s name before I take off my clothes,” the father said.

I held my hand out to Jake’s father. “Honey.”

He gave me a wry smile. “Honey, I’m Ford. Can’t say it’s so bad getting old when I can have a beautiful woman such as yourself tending to me.”

“Well, it’s my pleasure.”

After getting Ford settled in the bathroom, I came out to get him a change of clothes. Jake and Jamie were making the bed.

“I can take over if you wouldn’t mind getting clothes for your dad.”

Jake didn’t speak. He just moved to the dresser and did as I asked while I helped tuck in the sheet edges. He headed to the bathroom and I moved to cut him off.

“I should help him.”

“You’re a stranger,” Jake said coldly.

“Exactly. He has nothing to prove to me.”

I plucked the clothes from his hands and went back to my patient. I put a smile on my face when I entered and covered up my discomfort from Jake’s dismissive tone.

“Can you cook?” Ford asked.

I liked that he didn’t assume because of my weight that I could.

“I sure can.”

“My Martha can cook.”

“She can?”

According to the job description, Ford had a mild case of dementia. It didn’t mention whether his wife was alive—only that a live-in caretaker was needed.

“She sure can.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I am. I’m in the mood for Martha’s roast with some mashed potatoes.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Once he was dressed, I helped him into the bedroom. Jake stood there alone. I wasn’t sure where Jamie had gone.

“Ford would love some of your mother’s cooking.”

I guessed that was who Martha was.

At Jake’s panicked expression, I assumed his mother was no longer with them.

I turned to Ford. “Why don’t I dazzle you with some of my cooking before you decide to hire me?”

“Honey, I already hired you,” Ford said with a wry smile.

“Dad—”

Ford held up a hand. “Is the nurse for you or me?”

Jake looked away. “You.”

“I’m not dead yet. Let me choose who’s going to clean my ass, then.”

I bit my lip, not wanting to laugh.

Jake’s jaw tightened. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am. Now show the lady around and let her dazzle me with her cooking skills.”

Ford winked at me and sat on his bed. I grinned and wondered if they were wrong about his dementia. The man seemed to have it all together.

“This way,” Jake said reluctantly.

I moved toward the door and tried not to purr when his hand landed on the small of my back.

When we were alone in the hall, I turned to him but couldn’t meet his eye. “I can make an excuse to not take the job if my presence bothers you.”

He said nothing until our gazes met. “My father likes you and he’s not liked anyone else.”

How many applicants had shown up? I wanted to smile with pride about a job well done but knew it wouldn’t be welcome.

“Okay,” I said.

I started to turn away when his hand burned my forearm, stopping my forward progress.