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Now when Kira Wentworth had shown up on his doorstep.
He really had thought she was the journalism student when he’d first caught sight of her coming up his porch steps. The journalism student had already interviewed his friend Ad, and Ad had told him she was slightly older than the average college student. That she was thin. Pretty. Blond.
Kira Wentworth fit that description. Although the minute he’d laid eyes on her he’d thought that he wouldn’t say she was merely pretty. Kira Wentworth was beautiful. And her hair wasn’t just blond. It was the color of honey shot through with sunlight. Plus she had skin like alabaster. And the softest mouth he’d ever seen. And a small, streamlined nose. And those eyes! They were the blue of a summer sky on a cloudless day. Not to mention that for a petite woman she had a body that wouldn’t quit….
So, okay, he couldn’t deny that that first sight of her had stirred things inside him that hadn’t been stirred for a long, long time. But how confusing was it that the first person he’d been attracted to, since he seemed to have gotten his head together again after Marla’s and Anthony’s deaths, was a Wentworth?
Incredibly confusing, that’s how confusing it was.
Rationally, Cutty knew there was no reason to hold a grudge against Kira Wentworth. But that had been his reaction when she’d told him who she was. In spite of his initial attraction to her. He’d been tempted to kick her out of his house. What had gone through his mind was that he didn’t want any Wentworth anywhere near him because with any Wentworth came the potential for contact with Tom Wentworth. Or the effects of having been raised by him.
But Cutty hadn’t wanted to be a hard-ass, so he’d tried to curb the feelings.
And apparently he’d been pretty successful, since only a few minutes later his heart had gone out to Kira when he’d told her about Marla and Anthony and witnessed the blow that struck.
He’d been so successful at curbing his negative feelings that he’d even been tempted to comfort her with a hug.
Well, more than a hug. What he’d really been inclined to do was take her in his arms, learn what it would feel like to have her head pressed to his chest, her body against his….
But she’s a Wentworth, he’d reminded himself to chase away that urge.
Or at least to resist it. The urge hadn’t exactly gone away, he just hadn’t acted on it.
In fact, he’d still been struggling with it when she’d offered to come in and care for the twins. And him.
He hadn’t expected that and once more his emotions had taken a swing toward the negative. He’d instantly imagined another Wentworth in his house. He’d flashed on the way things had been. On the way they could be again.
Cutty closed his eyes and shook his head as if that would get rid of the thoughts that he felt guilty for having had the night before and again now. Thoughts of Marla. Of life with Marla.
But guilty or not, the bottom line had been he really hadn’t been thrilled with the prospect of Kira stepping in for Betty.
After all, she’d been raised by the same man Marla had. And there she’d been, with the ink barely dry on her Ph.D. as a clue to the likelihood that she was an overachiever, not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle in her clothes, her makeup flawless, her posture perfect, and Cutty hadn’t had a doubt she was cut from the same cloth Marla was.
So no, he hadn’t wanted Kira’s help.
Only she’d made him feel like a heel for denying, not only the help she was offering, but for denying her the chance to meet the twins. To get to know them. To be a part of their lives.
They were her nieces, after all, and Cutty had known that if Marla had been there she would have welcomed Kira with open arms—both for herself and for the girls. He’d known that Marla would have wanted her younger sister to know her daughters.
So he’d caved.
Cutty opened his eyes and sighed, disgusted with himself. Just when he’d thought his life was finally settling down, here he was in a muddle of conflicting thoughts, conflicting feelings again. And for about the tenth time, he asked himself if he’d really accepted her help as temporary nanny and housekeeper because it was what Marla would have wanted, or if he’d had some kind of attraction to her. In spite of himself.
He hoped he’d only accepted her help because it was what Marla would have wanted.
Sure he’d told Ad a couple of weeks ago that he thought he was finally ready to get back into the swing of things again. But slowly. Cautiously. With great care and consideration given to exactly who—and what—he let into his life again.
And a pair of blue eyes—no matter how incredible a blue they were—didn’t change that.
He grabbed his cane from where it rested against the nightstand and got to his feet.
Kira would do the same job Betty did, and he would make sure his relationship with her was no different than the relationship he had with Betty—purely friendly.
And that was all there was to it.
Because while he might have finally made it over the hump of grief and been ready to restart his life, it wouldn’t be with Kira Wentworth.
What he was ready for was an ordinary, everyday woman who took things in stride, who knew when to put on the full-court press and when not to, who knew the value of people over the value of appearances, who stopped long enough to smell the flowers.
And he didn’t think for a minute that Dr. Overachiever Microbiologist Kira Wentworth was that woman.
After a restless night, Kira was awake before her alarm went off. The moment she remembered where she was and what she was slated to do today, she was too antsy to linger in bed. She got up and went into the bathroom for a quick shower.
The sun was just dawning when she came out of the bathroom and stood in front of the armoire to survey the clothes she’d brought with her. She didn’t have the slightest idea what was involved in taking care of eighteen-month-old babies, which meant she wasn’t sure what to wear. But she was sure that she wanted it to be just right.
Not that she thought her nieces would even notice what she had on, but she so desperately wanted them to like her that every detail of this first meeting seemed important.
Maybe something bright, she thought, taking out a red silk shirt.
Or was that too bright? Would it scare them?
Maybe.
She replaced the shirt in the armoire and continued the search.
Definitely not the black high-necked blouse, she decided when that was the next thing that caught her eye. Black was too austere. It might send the message that she wasn’t accessible and the last thing she wanted was for her nieces to see her as standoffish.
And white might make her look too washed out, so she decided against the white rayon cap shirt, too.
Kira was tempted to wear the flowered sundress with the full skirt but she wasn’t sure if that was practical. Although she did give it a second look when it also occurred to her that this was essentially her first day on a new job and making a good impression was probably not a bad idea.
But the impression she was thinking of making with the dress was on Cutty and the moment she realized that was what was dancing on the edges of her mind she shied away from the sundress for sure.
She wasn’t in Northbridge to impress Cutty. Her goal was connecting with the babies—only with the babies—and she wouldn’t let herself be distracted from that. Not even by a pair of deep, dark green eyes that had longer, thicker lashes than any man should be entitled to.
No,