The Nanny with the Skull Tattoos (15 page)

“Listen,” he said slowly. “I need to explain.”

Savannah opened her eyes, finally meeting his gaze. “Explain?”

“I hate the way everything went down,” he said. “I didn’t want you to leave.”

Her lips twitched. Black, curled lashes blinked at him. She stared up at him from her seat. “What you want doesn’t matter,” she said.

“Nicole and I were
not
back together,” Max said, taking the seat next to her. He wiped sweaty palms on his jeans. “My mother and brother invited her to dinner behind my back. I had no idea that she was going to be there. I hadn’t seen her in a good couple of years.” His anger at Betty and Xavier flared fresh. He took a deep breath, steadying himself.

“I’m supposed to just believe that?” Savannah said. She rolled her eyes.

He nodded. “Why not?”

“Because those pictures of you guys looked awfully cozy,” she spat.

He flinched. “What was I supposed to do, shove her off the couch? Chloe was sitting right there.”

Savannah’s lip curled. “So this was all just a big misunderstanding, huh? Your mom just wanted you to get back together with your baby mama, and you can’t stand her. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Max said. Hope sprang in his chest. He smiled in relief. “Come back home.” His smile widened. His apartment was Savannah’s home just as much as it was his. “It’s not the same without you.”

She snorted. “You really think you’re good!” She kept her voice low. “I’m not that dumb. I know that you and Nicole got back together. She moved in right after I moved out. You really don’t waste any time, do you?”

Max’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know that?” he sputtered. “I didn’t want to get back together with her. I just needed help with Chloe. I wanted my daughter to have her mother.”

Gathering her sketchbooks and pencils, Savannah shoved them into her purse. She stood from her seat and set Chloe down. “Be a good girl, okay?” She tapped Chloe’s nose. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she threw a glare at Max. “We’re through,” she said.

“Wait.” Max stood, plucking Chloe from the floor. “Chloe really misses you. I miss you, too.” His voice trailed off. He wondered if there was anything that he could possibly say to her that would make things right. His mind spun as he groped for the right words. Shoulders sagging in defeat, he lifted his eyes and met hers. “I’m sorry.”

She hesitated, tilting her head to one side. “Are you really back together with her?” Her words were quiet, but her eyes spoke volumes.

Max swallowed hard. “No,” he said. “I tried, for Chloe’s sake—“

“I really don’t want to hear about it,” Savannah said. “I just want to know if it’s really over between you two.”

Max nodded. Taking a deep breath, he asked the question he had been dying to ask her since the day she left. “Will you please just come home?”

Bright sunlight streamed into the kitchen. Max lifted the window open a crack. Fresh air filtered through. He breathed it in, inhaling through his nose and closing his eyes. For a moment, he could practically smell spring. The air smelled fresh and clean, like laundry right out of the dryer. His eyebrows furrowed. Opening his eyes, he turned around. Savannah stood in the kitchen, Chloe on one hip and a basket of laundry on the other. He recognized a couple of his tee shirts, neatly folded next to Chloe’s clothes.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s this? I thought you guys went to the park.”

Savannah rolled her eyes and set the basket on the table. “You’re welcome.” She turned away, pivoting on her heels. Tossing Chloe into the air, she caught the little girl. Chloe giggled and begged her to do it again.

Stepping closer to the basket of laundry, Max peered at the clothing. “Did you do all of our laundry?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t mix my weird girly things in with yours,” she said, winking over her shoulder.

An ache spread through his belly. Before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out of his mouth. “What if I like your lacy girl things?”

She smirked at him, setting Chloe down. The toddler wobbled into the living room, heading for her box of toys. Savannah skirted the table, prowling toward him. Her dark eyes smoldered into his. Max swallowed hard. She stopped just in front of him. Standing a head shorter than him, she tilted her head to look up at him. “Wanna go to the movies tonight?” she purred.

Max blinked at her. His mouth opened, an affirmative answer dancing on his tongue. The textbooks and notebooks piled on the table next to the laundry basket caught his eye, though. He backed up a step. “Who would watch Chloe?” he asked.

Savannah exhaled through her nose. “Fine,” she said, turning on her heels. She danced out of the kitchen and into the living room. Max’s shoulders slumped. He probably could have conned Riley into watching his daughter for a couple of hours. Still, he really needed to study. Even though he hadn’t gone with the more difficult branch of the education school, special education, it was still the hardest program at Southern. He was honestly surprised that he had made it to his junior year, and he thought his professors were, too—even though they would probably never admit it out loud.

Sighing, he moved the basket of laundry to a chair and returned to the seat he had occupied all day. “What a way to spend a Saturday,” he grumbled to himself. Even worse, it was an unusually warm day for February. He should have gone to the park with Savannah and Chloe, if only for some fresh air and exercise. Running around at the music store didn’t count.

He wished he had just majored in music, but his parents would have never agreed to pay for his tuition. His father had called it a useless career, and his mother said that it was impossible to break into the industry. Some of his high school friends had made it, though. They moved to Boston or Austin—or even Los Angeles. Their bands weren’t topping the charts, but they weren’t nobodies, either.

Max thought of his dusty keyboard and the computer he hadn’t used for anything other than writing hypothetical lesson plans and papers for class. He sighed again. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would end up a music teacher. Despite working part-time and having a daughter, he had technically finished his music degree. If he didn’t focus, though, he was never going to finish the education program.

Taking a sip from his mug of coffee, Max opened the binder that would also double as his portfolio and resume once he graduated. Flipping through the first few pages, he skimmed the letters of recommendation from his freshman-year field work and the letter announcing his acceptance into the school of education. He could barely remember those first two semesters, but he had done it, despite the odds working against him.

He sat back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the table. His fingers itched to dance on the keys of a piano, to compose. He tried to imagine himself sitting behind a desk, teaching kids to read and multiply. A career as a teacher would be secure, albeit far from as profitable as being a lawyer. Still, it was something for his family to be proud of. As he stared at his open binder, though, he wondered if he would ever feel proud of himself. If he busted his ass to become a teacher, even if he got a job as a music teacher, he would probably still wish that he had pursued music. Once upon a time, he had been in a band that practiced in a garage and played shows at VFWs. Then Nicole got pregnant and told him that she was going to get an abortion.

He didn’t regret Chloe. He hoped that his daughter never thought that he did. He wondered, though, if he would die looking back on a life full of regrets.

Savannah padded into the kitchen behind him. She opened cabinets, pulling out ingredients. Humming to herself, she grabbed a can of kidney beans.

“What’s that?” he asked, nodding toward her.

“I’m gonna get started on dinner,” she said, her eyes crinkling as she smiled at him.

Clearing his throat, he closed the three-inch binder and pulled one of his textbooks toward him. “You really don’t have to cook,” he said. “I can just order a pizza.”

“But it’s your favorite.” She shook a can in each hand, shaking her shoulders. Her socked feet slid on the floor as she danced, a grin playing on her lips. “Pork and rice and beans!”

He smiled back. “It’s okay, really. Don’t you have plans tonight, anyway? It’s the weekend.” He tapped a pen on his notebook. “I’ve got Chloe. You don’t have to stay.”

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to nod and smile and say
gracias
when someone offers to cook for you?” She tossed a dish towel at him.

He caught it and threw it back. She dodged it, catching it with one hand. “Seriously, though,” he said. “Cooking wasn’t part of our, um, agreement.” His eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to remember what, exactly, their original agreement had been. He wished he had written up a contract. His brothers and father would probably kill him if they knew he hired someone without a signed and notarized contract.

Savannah shook her head at him. “I know that, dummy. I’m doing it because I
want
to. Besides, you’d turn into a pizza without me around. How did you survive?”

He looked down at his hands. They were brown and absolutely
not
pizza-colored. “I don’t know,” he said. “It was definitely a lot more quiet around here.”

She held up her hands. “Fine, I’ll leave you in peace,” she said, turning back toward the counter.

“Too quiet,” he said, opening his textbook.

She kept her back to him, but chuckled, a little “Hmn” dancing from her lips.

Turning back to his reading, Max immersed himself in classroom management again.

It didn’t take long for the scent of cooking pork to drag him out of his studying bubble. He looked up to see Savannah leaning over the stove, pork chops searing in a pan. The scent of Adobo and Sofrito drifted to him, and he sighed in content. “You’re killing me over here,” he said.

Smirking, Savannah glanced over her shoulder at him. She stirred a large pot of rice and beans. “Oh, but I thought you didn’t want me to cook?”

“Okay, you win,” he said, “but I really don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“Obligated?” She snorted. “It is my job to make sure that you get nice and fat, so no other girl will want to steal you.” She winked at him.

He rested a hand on his stomach. “Go easy on me,” he said. “I don’t have time to build a six-pack.”

She glanced down at him, sooty lashes flicking. “Yeah, that would take forever. You have a long way to go.”

“Hey,” he said, and tossed a pencil at her. It flew to the floor in front of her, spinning through the air, and bounced off the front of the oven.

“You definitely aren’t athletic, either,” she said. “
Ay dios mio
. I really know how to pick ‘em.”

When dinner was ready, she forced him to stay at the table and went into the living room to get Chloe. She strapped the toddler into her high chair and handed her a bowl of rice with the beans picked out and half a pork chop cut into tiny pieces. Max watched as his daughter lifted a spoon of rice to her mouth and shoveled it in.

“Yummy,” Chloe said with her mouth full.

Savannah served him next, placing a plate piled high with food in front of him. His eyes widened.

“I can’t eat all of this,” he said.

She patted his shoulder. “I’m trying to fatten you up, remember?” She sat down across from him with her plate piled just as high.

“Are you trying to kill all of us?” He shoveled in a mouthful of rice and beans, though, the salty and slightly spicy taste dancing on his tongue. He sighed in content.

When they finished eating, Savannah whisked away his plate and cleared the table. She lifted Chloe from her high chair. “Bath time, baby girl,” she said, carrying the toddler toward the bathroom.

“Wait, I can get her,” Max said, pushing his chair back.

Savannah wheeled around. “No, stay and study,” she said. “I’ve got it.”

Before he could object, she disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later, the water began running, and she closed the door. Silence fell over the kitchen. Max turned back to his books, but with his stomach so full, he just wanted to crash on the couch. He needed to get his reading done, though. He was behind a couple of chapters as it was.

As he finished reading a chapter, his head thudding dully, Savannah emerged from the bathroom. She carried Chloe into the kitchen. Chloe snuggled into Savannah, her small arms wrapped around Savannah’s neck.

“Say goodnight to Daddy,” Savannah said.

Taking in the sight of Chloe dressed in her owl pajamas and ready for bed, Max lifted an eyebrow at Savannah. “What did I do to deserve the VIP treatment tonight?” He kissed Chloe’s forehead. “Goodnight,” he told his daughter.

Smiling mysteriously, Savannah carried Chloe into her bedroom. “Do you want a story?” he heard her murmur as they disappeared into the room.

Max put down his highlighter, staring after them. The extra special treatment aside, Savannah always went above and beyond for him and Chloe—since the very beginning. He ran a hand through his hair. He had been stupid to let her go. She would make a great girlfriend and, someday, an awesome mother. If he kept trying to pretend that there was nothing going on between them, she would eventually find someone else. The thought of her dating another guy sent a ripple of pain through his chest. He realized, suddenly, that was probably how Savannah had felt when she saw the pictures of him with Nicole.

He rubbed his temples. In the week since Savannah had moved back in, things had gone back to normal—almost. Neither of them mentioned Nicole or their one-night stand. He wondered if it was just that: one night of his life that he would never be able to relive. He tried to imagine a life without Savannah. If he kept going the way he was going, he surmised, it would become a reality.

He didn’t want that. Still, he needed to focus on school. He wouldn’t be able to take care of himself and Chloe, never mind all three of them, if he didn’t get a good job. He tugged on his hair. He desperately needed a trip to the barber. He also needed to make up his mind. It wasn’t fair to him, or Savannah. He dragged his attention back to his book. He could think about his love life—or lack thereof—after he read one more chapter, he decided.

The sky outside had darkened during dinner, and he could already feel fatigue tugging at him. It wouldn’t be long before he needed to go to bed, too—especially since he had to work early in the morning and then go straight to class.

He straightened in his seat. Slapping his forehead with the palm of his hand, he shook his head at himself. He sort of already
was
taking care of all three of them. Technically, he paid Savannah to watch Chloe, but if she was his girlfriend, his financial situation wouldn’t be any different. He would still be buying the same amount of groceries and still paying the same rent. The only thing that would change, he realized, was that he would be happier.

He snorted. “I am
such
an idiot,” he said to the empty kitchen.

“Yeah, you are,” Savannah said from behind him. 

He jumped. Twisting around in his seat, he turned to see her leaning in the doorway of the kitchen. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to watch you practically brain yourself,” she said. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

He hesitated, searching for the words. He suddenly felt stupid. He was assuming that she even wanted to be his girlfriend. Maybe she was just being extra nice to him because she wanted a raise.

Savannah raised an eyebrow at him. “Earth to Max,” she said.

“I’m here,” he said, sighing.

“Listen,” she said, striding toward him. She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. “We need to talk.”

Max licked his lips. “This can’t be good,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “Just listen.” She bit her lower lip, eyelids closing for a moment. Rubbing her hands together, she opened her eyes. “Okay, this is going to sound really stupid.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I just want to know—I mean, I kind of
need
to know—what we’re doing here. I mean, are we a thing? Am I just working for you?” She ran a hand through her hair, eyes avoiding his.

Max hesitated, wondering whether she had read his mind. He swallowed hard. He needed more time to think about things. “I don’t know,” he said, deciding to go with honesty.

“Really?” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Because I’m pretty sure you didn’t ask me to come back just so I could be your nanny again. I mean, I don’t mind taking care of Chloe. I adore her. I just…” Her lips twisted, and her eyes met his, wide and sad. “I just need to know. What are we doing here?”

Max wiped clammy palms on his jeans. He pushed his homework away. “I like you a lot, Savannah,” he said, “but I really don’t—“

“Oh, don’t give me that ‘I like you but I don’t know’ crap,” she said, striding to the table. She sat down in the chair next to him. “I mean, seriously. Let’s not pretend that nothing ever happened between us.” She shook her hair, dark tresses tumbling down her back.