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  “We'll be there in a minute, Jessica!” she called. Then, ignoring the woman standing on the porch, she crossed her arms and scowled up at Mitch. “You forgot that you asked Mandy's mom to pick us up for school starting this week, didn't you?”

  “I—”

  “And we still haven't had breakfast. What are we supposed to do, starve?”

  Mitch bit back the uncharitable yes that hovered and instead said, “Just get ready. I'll get some granola bars from the kitchen.” He turned back to the open door. “Ms. Jamieson, was it? I'm sorry, but I really ha—” He stopped mid-sentence as Jessica Perkins danced up onto the porch to join the wannabe nanny. Hell.

  “Oh dear.” She pulled a face as her gaze went to the hallway behind him. “Rough morning? You really should take me up on my offer to get you guys organized, Mitch, my friend. A couple of weeks and you won't even recognize the place.”

  The air wheezed from Mitch. Oh, he'd seen Jessica's house, all right. The woman had invited the girls to go swimming in her pool in August, and then insisted on giving him the grand tour while wearing the skimpiest bikini he'd ever tried not to lay eyes on. He all but broke out in a cold sweat at the memory of how many times he'd had to extricate himself from various corners of that place. He didn’t think the woman had any serious designs on him, but she had made it abundantly clear that she thought two lonely people could—and should—find solace in one another’s company. But she was right—her corners had been organized. He just had no intention of putting himself in a similar situation again.

  “Thanks, Jessica, but—”

  “Oh, pooh,” Jessica waved away the objection. “You know it's no trouble. I'm happy to help. Why don't Mandy and I come over tomorrow after school? The girls can hang out, and I can get a start. We'll order pizza for dinner. It will be fun!” Without waiting for a response, she turned to the other woman. “I'm so sorry. How rude of me not to introduce myself. I'm Jessica Perkins, a family friend.”

  “Abigail Jamieson,” Smoky Eyes murmured.

  Was it Mitch's imagination, or was she trying not to laugh?

  “I see,” Jessica said, when no further information was offered. She nodded at the luggage pile she'd skirted on her way up the sidewalk. “And you're here...for a visit?”

  “I'm—”

  “She's moving in with us!” Brittany poked her head past Mitch, her voice muffled by the scarf she'd wound around her face. “She's our new nanny.”

  “Oh?” Jessica looked over her shoulder at Mitch. “Rachel didn't mention you'd found someone new.”

  Mitch opened his mouth to explain, then closed it as an image of Jessica Perkins organizing his house popped into his head. Another one followed of her wearing a bikini while doing so.

  On the porch, Abigail Jamieson steadfastly refused to meet his gaze.

  Abigail Jamieson, his unexpected—and unsuspecting—lifeline.

  “It was a last-minute thing,” he heard himself reply.

  “I see.” Jessica's narrow gaze traveled between Mitch and Abigail Jamieson, who stared down at a hole she'd made in the snow with the toe of her furry boot. Then Jessica’s expression cleared, becoming cheerful again and leaving Mitch wondering what she saw.

  “Well then,” she said, “Welcome, Abigail Jamieson. I’ll leave you to get settled in, but make sure Mitch leaves you my number in case you need anything while he’s at work. I’m happy to help if I can. Come on, girls, we're running late.”

  With a cheery wave, she trotted back down the driveway to the car she’d left idling, the snow swallowing the sound of her door closing. A second later, Rachel shoved past him, Brittany on her heels.

  “Bye, Daddy!” Brittany sang over her shoulder. “Bye, Abby! See you after school!”

  “Wait,” Mitch called after them. “Granola bars!”

  Rachel waved a handful of wrapped bars aloft as she trudged across the lawn. She didn't deign to look back. Seconds later, Jessica's car disappeared down the road, and silence fell over the yard, as thick and muffled as the flakes descending now in earnest. On the porch, Abigail Jamieson stamped her ridiculous boots and wrapped her arms around herself.

  Mitch sighed. Now that he'd made it past the knee-jerk reaction to her arrival, maybe giving her a try wouldn't be such a bad idea. Because the look she'd given his hallway was right. He was desperate. And he'd run through so many nannies in the last year that he'd been blacklisted by just about every agency in town. And Estelle Gagnon had assured him that every nanny she sent out had already passed a police check. And if he didn't find help soon, a lot more than the house was going to go south in his life. And—

  He held the door wide. “I assume you have references?” he asked.

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  Books by Linda Poitevin

  The Ever After Collection

  Gwynneth Ever After

  Forever After

  Forever Grace

  Always and Forever

  Abigail Always

  Standalone Romantic Suspense

  Shadow of Doubt

  Also writing as Lydia M. Hawke

  The Grigori Legacy series (supernatural thriller)

  Sins of the Angels

  Sins of the Son

  Sins of the Lost

  Sins of the Warrior

  About the Author

  Like all romance writers, Linda Poitevin is a firm believer in happy-ever-afters, but she also knows how hard you have to work at relationships sometimes. She tries to reflect that in stories about people who live, laugh, cry, and love just as hard as they can in this crazy life we all share—people who are as real to her as she hopes they'll be to you.

  Linda lives outside Ottawa, Canada's capital, where (in her other-than-writing life) she is a wife, mom, friend, avid gardener, walker of a giant dog, and keeper of many (many!) pets. She also writes dark urban fantasy under the name of Lydia M. Hawke.

  You can find Linda on her website at LindaPoitevin.com, or hanging out on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.