Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“Mmm, those pear tarts were delicious,” my mother said, preparing a plate of treats that included the ginger molasses cookies.
I was a sucker for those things. So moist and soft, with the rich mineral sweetness of molasses, the crunch of the sugar sprinkled on top, the warmth of the ginger, and just enough of a bite from . . . something. I didn’t know what it was. That was for Finn to figure out. All I knew was I could live on those cookies.
Finn disappeared through the door to the kitchen, leaving us alone. My mother carried the tea tray to the table, setting cookies out on individual plates while we waited for the tea to steep. It still struck me sometimes how we’d flip-flopped our roles. For most of my life, she’d run this house, as at home in this kitchen as the family chefs. Now that was my job. And while she’d always be my mom, I’d become a mother myself. Somewhere along the line, she’d also become my closest friend.
Taking the seat opposite me, she sat back, smiling as she took in the kitchen. In my mind, she didn’t look a day older than she had when I was Nicky’s age. I knew that couldn’t be true, and there was more silver in her strawberry curls than there had been years ago, maybe a few more lines around her gray eyes, but she was still active, still vibrant. Still sharp as a tack.
“I have to admit,” she said, “I had no idea Finn could handle a kitchen like this.”
I’d been thinking the same thing. When he was given the job, I’d balked partly because I thought I’d be stuck working next to a jerk all day. But the other part was worry that he’d double my workload. It was one thing to be able to create a delicious dish. His midnight kitchen invasions had proven that he could cook. Running a kitchen that serves three meals a day to a household as large as ours requires a skill set above and beyond merely cooking well. A skill set Finn appeared to have.
“Me neither,” I agreed. “We knew he’d worked as a cook at some point. I guess we thought that’s what he did in the army. Though now I’m not so sure about that. Griffen mentioned the army, and Finn was weird about it.”
“And you haven’t asked?”
“No. I don’t know. I feel uncomfortable prying, I guess.”
Why hadn’t I just asked him? It’s not like we didn’t see each other here and there all day, every day. It seemed too personal, and I was wary of getting too personal with Finn. It wasn’t a good idea.
I’d been spending far too much time trying not to think about that kiss. The kiss that hadn’t been repeated, no matter how much I wished it had. And how much I knew I shouldn’t.
My mother poured the tea. I lifted my cup, letting the steam disguise the faint pink I could feel on my cheeks just from remembering that kiss. I had to be careful. My mother saw everything.
Almost as if she was reading my mind, or part of it, she said, “You know, now that things are steadier here, once you and Nicky move into the cottage, you’ll be settled. You still like the job?”
“You know I do. I love Heartstone Manor and working for Griffen and Hope—”
“Is nothing like working for Prentice,” my mother finished for me. With a fond, maternal smile, she went on, “I think Griffen is a throwback to his ancestors. They were gentlemen through and through. I never pictured Hope as the mistress of Heartstone Manor. Mostly because she was such a shy, quiet thing as a child. But now I couldn’t imagine anyone better. They run a good household, and it’s lovely to see them together.”
Almost in a whisper, I confessed. “I can’t wait for the baby. I don’t want another one of my own. Not any time soon. My hands are full.” I laughed at my understatement. “But sometimes, someone else’s baby is the best. All the snuggles, none of the three a.m. feedings. And so much more sleep.”
My mother nodded. “Exactly. And you have time for another down the road if you decide that’s what you want.”
“Any word on the nanny search?” I asked. I knew my mother had been helping Hope with interviews.
“Not so far. We had a good candidate, but she couldn’t pass the security checks. There was an ex-boyfriend who’d had some trouble, and it wasn’t clear exactly how ex he was. We’re still looking. We have someone promising coming in tomorrow.”
Mentally, I crossed my fingers. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about the nanny watching Nicky, but for Hope’s and Griffen’s sake, I wanted them to find someone before the baby got here. None of us had realized how difficult the search would be.