Runaway Love: A Single Dad Nanny Small Town Romance (Cherry Tree Harbor Book 1)
Runaway Love: Chapter 3

AFTER SNATCHING my purse from the bride’s room, I bolted out the chapel’s front doors and down the steps. Plucking my veil from the back of my head, I tossed it in the air. It sailed up and caught the breeze, and I didn’t even stop to look where it landed.

Pausing for a moment on the sidewalk, I looked right and left, intoxicated by the idea that not only could I go either way, but I could decide the direction.

Gleefully, I closed my eyes and spun in a few circles, and when I opened them, I was facing in the direction of Main Street.

I took off walking with a spring in my step, saying hello with a nod and a smile to every curious onlooker I passed. I realized I probably looked insane, traipsing down the street in a big poofy wedding dress, but at that moment, I didn’t care.

Pulling my phone from my bag, I tried calling Morgan, but she didn’t pick up. I left a cryptic message . . . “Hey, call me when you can. I have news.”

When I reached Main Street, the smell of chocolate made my stomach growl. Neil had told me the town was famous for its fudge, but I’d been here for over twenty-four hours, and I hadn’t even tasted it yet—something I planned to remedy immediately. But first, some real food.

For the first time in months, I actually had an appetite.

On the corner of Church and Main was an adorable fifties-style diner called Moe’s, and the sign in the window said OPEN! COME IN FOR THE BEST BURGER IN TOWN! Ravenous for a thick, juicy cheeseburger, I opened the door and stepped inside.

I looked around, taking in the black-and-white checkered floor, the red vinyl booths, the signed movie star photos on the wall, and the jukebox in the corner. Above the din of clinking silverware and human voices, I heard the plaintive strains of Patsy Cline’s “Crazy.”

And then, slowly but surely . . . every conversation stopped. Forks, French fries, and milkshakes paused halfway to open mouths. Necks craned and heads tilted as people strove to get a better view of me. Only Patsy kept calm and carried on.

Gathering my voluminous dress in my hands, I squeezed past tables and chairs, excusing myself when I needed more room. All eyes followed me as I made my way to the old-fashioned counter, where there was one empty stool. I perched on it and smiled at the young guy behind the counter. He wore a white apron and paper cap, and his name tag said Steve.

“Hey, Steve,” I said, trying to arrange my dress so it didn’t take up too much room on either side of me.

“Hey.” Steve looked behind me, possibly for the groom. “Just one?”

“Just one. Can I get a burger and a milkshake, please?”

“Uh. Sure.” Steve and the other employee behind the counter, a young woman wearing a pink uniform and holding a coffee pot, exchanged a look. “What flavor milkshake?”

“Mmm, chocolate. And medium rare for the burger. Can I get fries too?”

“Yeah.” Steve didn’t move for another few seconds, then pulled a green pad from his pocket and wrote down my order. “It’ll just be a few minutes.”

“No rush. I don’t have anywhere to be, contrary to what it looks like.”

“So you’re not, like, getting married or something?” The waitress—Ari, her name tag said—looked over my hair and face and gown.

“No. I mean, I was supposed to, but it didn’t really go as planned.”

Ari took a step closer, either forgetting about the coffee she’d been about to pour or not caring. “Today?”

Never one to shy away from a conversation, even with strangers, I nodded. “Right this minute, in fact.”

“You don’t say.” The old guy in suspenders and a ball cap to my right, elbowed the old guy in suspenders and a ball cap to his right. “You hear that, Gus? She’s supposed to be getting married right now.”

“I heard it, Larry.” Gus leaned forward to peer at me from Larry’s other side.

“Were you jilted?” asked Larry.

“Oh, no.” I poked a thumb on my chest twice. “I did the jilting.”

“Really?” asked the woman to my left. She had silvery red ringlets escaping from a bun on the top of her head and wore long, dangly earrings. “Why?”

“Because he was cheating on me.”

My audience gasped.

“And I just found out about it right before the ceremony started.”

My audience gasped louder.

“How?” Ari’s eyes were wide.

“He accidentally sent me a text message he meant to send to the other woman, referencing certain . . .” I glanced at the two old guys on my right. I didn’t want to shock Gus and Larry’s elderly sensibilities. “Salacious activities they were engaged in last night.”

“Men,” harrumphed Ari. She gave Steve the side eye as he set a milkshake down in front of me.

“It’s not because he’s a man, it’s because he’s used to doing whatever he wants and getting away with it,” I explained. “He’s rich and handsome. Born with a silver spoon and all that.”

“Oh, honey. You can’t fall for those guys.” The lady with the dangly earrings patted the leg of a burly man with a bald head next to her. “You gotta stick with guys like my Bubba here. Good men, maybe a six or seven or even an eight out of ten, but definitely not a nine or above.”

“Thanks, Willene,” Bubba said, then paused. “I think.”

“Those nines and tens don’t have to work for anything,” Willene went on. “You want the kind of guy who works hard for everything he’s got. That way it means more when they treat you. And they know how to treat you.” She leaned over and kissed Bubba’s cheek.

“Believe me, I see my mistake now,” I said after a long suck on the straw of my shake. “My god, this is delicious. I haven’t enjoyed food in months.”

“Why not?” Bubba looked horrified.

“I was afraid my dress wouldn’t fit,” I said. “I kept having this nightmare that it was my wedding day, and I’d go to get dressed, but my gown wouldn’t fit. I just couldn’t get it on, no matter what I did.”

“It was a sign.” Willene rapped the counter with her knuckles. “The universe is always sending signs.”

“I should have seen this one sooner, I was just . . .” For a second, my mom’s face popped into my mind. “I was confused.”

“I dated a ten once,” said the irascible Larry, as if he were still mad about it. “And that’s how I felt all the time. Confused. All she had to do was smile at me, and I couldn’t even think. I was bewitched, bothered, and bewildered, as the song goes.”

I smiled at him sympathetically. “I hear you. I haven’t done much good thinking over the last year myself. And now the problem is, everything I have, he gave me. My apartment, my car, my credit cards, my job. Even my phone. I don’t have a thing to my name.”

“Maybe he’ll be generous,” said Ari. “Since he was the one who cheated and all.”

I took another long drink of my shake. “I doubt it, not since I dumped him at the altar with everyone watching.”

“You went all the way to the altar?” Steve cocked his head. “Even after you knew?”

“I didn’t want to, but Neil—that’s his name—wasn’t taking no for an answer. I told him ten times I wasn’t going to marry him, but he just kept telling me I was being silly and insisting that I do as I was told.”

“So how’d you finally convince him?” Gus asked.

“I kicked him in the face—but not until he insulted me in front of everyone.”

“You kicked him in the face?” Ari was impressed. “How’d you get your leg up that high?”

“I used to be a Rockette,” I said, sitting up a little taller.

“Wow, a Rockette.” Gus was impressed. “I’ve seen the Christmas Spectacular three times. It’s my favorite play. You girls are fantastic.”

I laughed. “Thank you.”

“So what will you do now?” asked Ari.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I guess I need to make a fresh start.”

“Here in Cherry Tree Harbor?” Gus seemed kind of excited about that, like maybe more Rockettes would follow.

“If I could replace a job.” I glanced out the window. “It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

“Where’s your family?” Willene asked.

“I don’t have any.”

“Could you get your old job back?” Gus wondered.

“I think so. But I missed auditions, so not this season.”

“So you need more of a temporary gig,” Ari said, one finger tapping her lips. “Hmm.”

“Is there a dance studio around?” I wondered. “Maybe I could teach lessons.”

“There used to be Miss Edna’s, just outside town,” said Gus, “but she closed up shop and moved to Florida. I once took salsa dancing there. I wasn’t much good at it, or so the wife said.”

“Hey, you know what?” Ari hurried over to a bulletin board by the entrance and pulled off a sheet of paper. Returning to the counter, she placed it in front of me. “My best friend Mabel was in here yesterday, and she put this up.”

“What is it?” Larry asked, frowning as he pulled a pair of readers from his shirt pocket.

Willene leaned closer to me so she could read it too. “It’s a flyer advertising a live-in nanny position.”

“It’s for Mabel’s older brother, Austin,” said Ari. “He’s a single dad with seven-year-old twins.”

“Boys or girls?”

“One of each.”

“Are they nice?” I was thinking of The Sound of Music, where those kids terrorized poor Maria. Hadn’t they put a frog in her bed?

“Yeah.” Ari shrugged. “Austin is a little intense, but the kids are cool. They come in here sometimes, and they actually behave.”

“What do you mean by intense?” I pictured stern, no-nonsense Captain von Trapp.

“He’s just kind of . . . serious,” she finished. “All work, no play.”

“He didn’t do all that much work in high school,” said Willene drily. “Trust me, I was his social studies teacher three years in a row.” Then she sighed. “But he sure grew up handsome. All those Buckley boys did.”

“Those kids had it tough,” Gus said. “Lost their mom so young and all.”

“He put in a real nice split rail fence for us last year when I was laid-up because of my back,” said Bubba. “Did good work. Nice wood.”

“She doesn’t care about his wood, Bubba.” His wife smacked his shoulder. “She wants a job.”

I might care about his wood, I thought, picturing a hot, shirtless guy chopping wood and then putting up a split rail fence, sweat glistening on his tanned pecs. Neil was slim and fit, but he hadn’t been exciting in bed—at least, not when I was in it. And honestly, he’d been ignoring me sexually for months. I’d assumed he was just busy and distracted with work, but now I knew better.

“Mabel was supposed to be the nanny this summer,” Ari explained, “but she just got this amazing offer to assist on some kind of archaeological dig in Virginia. She’s really into that stuff.”

“That’s cool,” I said studying the flyer more closely.

Wanted: Summer nanny for twins, age 7. Accommodations provided. Must have childcare experience, cooking skills, own transportation.

“Well, that’s that,” I said with a sigh. “I don’t have any of those things.”

“You could at least interview,” Ari suggested. “Mabel said he’s pretty desperate, and she feels terrible for abandoning them.”

I looked at the address and phone number listed at the bottom and gasped. “Hey, they live on Sutton Street! Sutton is my last name.”

“It’s a sign,” Willene said, knocking on the counter again.

I decided she was right and that I’d ignored enough of them. “I suppose there’s no harm in applying. It’s not like I have any better ideas.”

Ari grinned. “I’ll call her.”

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in a red vinyl booth at the back of Moe’s when a petite, dark-haired woman rushed through the door and ran over to give Ari a hug. Ari pointed in my direction, and I sat up a little taller and waved.

Mabel waved back, had a brief conversation with Ari, and hurried over to where I sat, saying hello to at least three people on the way. She wore cut-off jean shorts and a T-shirt that said William & Mary.

“Hi,” she said, sliding in across from me and holding out one hand over the table. “I’m Mabel.”

“Veronica.” I shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Sorry I’m a little out of breath. I was trying to do like ten things at once—pack my things, mind the kids, get dinner ready—but when Ari called and said there was someone interested in the nanny job, I dropped everything and raced up here.”

“I appreciate it,” I said.

“So.” Her smile was warm and genuine. “Sounds like you’ve had quite the day.”

I laughed. “You can say that again.”

“Ari told me what happened.” She shook her head, dark ponytail wagging. “It’s like a movie or something.”

“Not the one I’d have chosen to star in.”

“What kind of movie would you have picked?”

“A musical,” I said right away.

Her eyes widened behind the lenses of her tortoiseshell glasses. “I love musicals. What’s your favorite?”

I gasped. “Torture me, why don’t you! But if I had to pick, I’d say Hamilton.”

“Ob. Sessed.” Mabel held up her hands. “That’s my favorite too.”

“For a couple months, I ushered at the theater where it played in New York,” I told her. “I got to see it every night. And I was friends with some of the ensemble.”

She moaned with envy. “That’s amazing.”

“I grew up dancing, and dance is such an important part of that show. It’s not just like, ‘oh, characters are happy, so now comes a happy dance,’ it’s like the choreography truly moves the story forward,” I said rapturously. “It carries emotional weight, just like the music, just like the lyrics.”

“Did you ever audition to be in it?”

“No.” I laughed and shrugged. “Unfortunately, I am completely tone deaf. Precision? Technique? Musicality? I’m your girl. But you do not want to hear me sing.”

Mabel laughed. “Ari said you were a Rockette.”

I nodded. “For eight seasons. Then my mom got sick, and I moved back home to care for her. After she died, I got engaged and moved to Chicago—that’s where my fiancé lives. Well, my ex-fiancé.”

“And you don’t want to go back there?”

“No.” I shook my head. “And I wouldn’t be welcome.”

“Why stay here? Why not go back to New York?”

“I’ll probably do that eventually,” I said. “But I kind of like the idea of trying someplace new for a minute. Maybe somewhere slower-paced and quieter. A place where I can catch my breath.”

“I totally get that.” Mabel hesitated. “Are you sad about the guy?”

I looked out the window, where I watched a young family cross the street, a little girl on the dad’s shoulders, a little boy holding his mom’s hand. My heart ached fiercely. “I’m sad I wasted a year of my life on him. But I’m not sad it’s over.”

“Other fish in the sea, right?”

“I’m not worried about that right now. I think I’m better off alone for the time being.”

“You sound like Austin—that’s my brother. He’s the one who needs a nanny this summer.”

“Ari told me about the dig. That’s awesome.”

She smiled. “It is awesome—for me. But it leaves my brother with no help.”

“And he’s got twins, right?”

“Yep. Boy and a girl, age seven. They’re high-energy, but they’re funny and sweet and smart, and—” The alarm on Mabel’s phone went off, and she pulled it from her purse. “Shoot. That’s all the time I have. Okay, listen. I know we just met and all, but I feel like you’d be perfect for the job. Can you come up to the house later and meet my brother and the kids?”

“Sure.” I wondered about the missing link—the twins’ mom—but I didn’t want to ask.

“Great,” she said, sliding out from the booth. “The address is right there on the flyer.”

About fifteen minutes later, I followed the directions Ari had written down for me on the back of the flyer and walked the three blocks to the Buckley house. Gus, Larry, Willene and Bubba, and even Steve offered to drive me, but I said I could walk.

Sutton Street was uphill from Main Street, and I was warm in my dress—the sun was just starting to sink, and the temperature still hovered in the low seventies. Probably I should have gone back to the inn to change my clothes, but I hadn’t wanted to waste any time—showing up so soon would demonstrate how eager I was to get the job, right?

When I reached the address, I stood on the sidewalk for a moment and studied it. The two-story, white-painted house was charming and old-fashioned, almost storybook-like with its pretty front porch with the lattice skirt and gingerbread trim. It jogged a memory—my grandparents had lived in a house like this, but theirs was on a farm, and my mother had taken me there to visit once when I was little. We’d ridden on a bus overnight to get there, my mother tense and quiet, while I pretended I was on a grand adventure. The next thing I remembered was waiting in the living room and petting their dog while a terrible argument raged in the kitchen.

We were only there a short time, and we never went back.

Taking a deep breath for courage, I marched up the walk and climbed the porch steps. The wooden front door was open, so I knocked on the frame of the screen. A moment later, two kids came bounding down the stairs and stood in front of me.

“Hi, there,” I said, giving them a smile and a wave.

One of them—a girl with gorgeous red-gold hair, looked me over head to foot. “Are you trick-or-treating?”

Laughing, I shook my head. “No.”

“Then how come you’re wearing that costume?” The little boy with the huge dark eyes and a fresh haircut pointed at my dress.

“Actually, this isn’t a costume.”

“Are you here to marry our dad?” the girl asked.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” I said, but just then, a wide-shouldered, dark-haired guy appeared behind them, and I thought maybe I’d spoken too soon.

Apart from the stern expression and furrowed brow, he didn’t look anything like Captain von Trapp. He had close-cropped scruff, wore a ball cap, and his jeans were dirty. He was definitely their dad—he had the same brown eyes as his son, and the boyish ears that stuck out just slightly. The muscular arms and brawny chest weren’t too far off my splitting-rails-man fantasy, although this guy was wearing a shirt. It said Two Buckleys Home Improvement on it. The armpits were dark with sweat.

“Can I help you?” His eyes traveled over my attire.

“Um, I’m Veronica Sutton. I’m here about the job.”

“The job?” His expression was blank.

“Yes. The nanny job?” I showed him the flyer.

He pushed open the screen door and took the paper from me. As he read it, his face went from baffled to irritated. “I’m afraid there’s been a mistake.”

“You’re not looking for a nanny?”

“No,” he said firmly.

“Yes, we are, Daddy. Remember?” The little girl tugged on his shirt. “Aunt Mabel is leaving to go on a dig.”

“A dig is like treasure hunting,” the little boy told me with wide eyes. “And you get paid to do it.”

Just then, Mabel came rushing up behind the man, holding a rubber spatula in her hand. “Veronica! You’re here!”

I blanched at the surprise in her tone. “Aren’t I supposed to be?”

“Yes, you’re, ah, here just a little sooner than I expected. I thought maybe you’d want to go change your clothes or something. I haven’t had a chance to tell Austin about you yet.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I—” Swallowing hard, I met Austin’s unyielding eyes. “Should I come back later?”

“No, no.” Mabel reached behind her brother and swung the door wider. “Come on in. This is my brother, Austin, and these are his kids, Adelaide and Owen.”

The twins said hello while Austin gave his sister a scorching look and held up the flyer. “Mabel, what is this?”

“It’s an ad for a new nanny,” Mabel said, pointing the spatula at him like a weapon. “And she’s the only applicant we have, so don’t scare her off.”

I glanced around—to my left was a living room, and to my right was a staircase. Shoes were lined up neatly on a rug by the door. Hats and light jackets hung just so on pegs at the bottom of the stairs. The wood floors were spotless, and I saw no clutter anywhere.

“Why don’t we all take a seat in the living room?” Mabel suggested.

“Mabel, could I see you for a moment, please?” Without waiting for his sister to answer, Austin took her by the arm and pulled her up the stairs.

“We’ll be right down,” Mabel called as she disappeared. “Kids, why don’t you introduce yourselves?”

I went into the living room and took a seat on the couch. The kids stood directly in front of me, staring curiously like I was a painting or an animal at the zoo.

“I’m Veronica,” I said. “So you guys are twins, huh?”

“Yes, but I’m older,” Owen told me.

“Only by four minutes!” Adelaide seemed a little miffed at their arrival schedule.

I smiled. “It must be fun being a twin. I don’t have any brothers or sisters. But I always wanted them.”

“Are you going to be our new nanny?” Owen asked.

“I don’t know. I hope so. Got any tips for me?”

They each appeared to think deeply. “Daddy likes it when you make your bed,” Adelaide said. “Tell him you always make your bed.”

“And that you remember to turn off lights,” Owen added. “Because we don’t own the electric company.”

“His favorite food is barbecue,” Adelaide said. “Do you know how to make barbecue? Or cook on the grill?”

“No,” I admitted. “I’ve never had a grill.”

“Do you know how to make anything?”

I chewed my lip—I wasn’t skilled in the kitchen at all. I overcooked chicken and undercooked pasta, and I never seemed to be able to time a meal right. “I know how to make fried bologna sandwiches. And I made a birthday cake once.”

“What kind of birthday cake?” asked Adelaide.

“It was yellow,” I said, neglecting to mention it was from a box. “With chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles.”

“That sounds good,” Owen said generously.

“If I get the job, I’ll make you one,” I promised.

“Can you make two?” Adelaide held up two fingers. “We always have to share a cake because we share a birthday.”

“Absolutely,” I said. “You’ll each get a cake.”

“Daddy is big on organization,” Adelaide went on. “And charts. Do you have any charts?”

“Charts?”

“Yeah. Like chore charts,” said Owen. “We each have one.”

“They’re on the fridge, right by the calendar.” Adelaide pointed in the direction of the kitchen. “The calendar is very important too. If something isn’t on the calendar, Daddy gets grumpy about it.”

“Got it.” I nodded. “So tell me about you two. What grade are you in?”

“We’ll be in second grade this fall,” said Adelaide. “We go to Paddington Elementary.”

“It’s named after a man, not the bear,” Owen added with obvious disappointment.

“Yes, and the man’s family still lives around here. I heard Daddy say they’re a bunch of assholes.” Adelaide grinned. “But I’m not supposed to repeat that word.”

I mimed locking my lips and throwing away the key. “I won’t tell.”

“Your dress is pretty.” Adelaide reached forward and played with the tulle skirt. “Are you getting married or something?”

“I was. But not anymore.”

“How come?”

I hesitated. “The man I was supposed to marry wasn’t being nice to me.”

“Was he bullying you?” Owen asked.

I decided to go with that. “Yes.”

“I hate bullies,” the little boy said seriously. “But we’re not supposed to fight back.”

“Did you fight back?” wondered Adelaide.

I nodded defiantly. “I kicked my bully right in the face.”

The twins exchanged a look of amazement.

“You did?” Owen blinked.

“Totally!” I jumped off the couch. “Here, I’ll show you.”

The twins backed up to give me some room, and I turned to face the fireplace.

“First, I had to get a little running start.” Bunching up my dress in my hands, I drew back in dramatic fashion. “And then . . .” I took a few quick steps forward, added a twirl for flair, and executed a sharp hitch kick while shouting, “Hi-yah! Right in the kisser!”

That’s when I heard a man’s voice behind me. “What is going on here?”