Macy's Parade (The Morrison Family Book 6) Read online

  “Do you feel better?”

  “Yeah,” Savannah answered after swallowing the bite she’d taken. “I’m glad I didn’t go to school today.”

  “Are your cramps gone?”

  She nodded, since she’d taken another bite of her sandwich.

  “Good. Now, here’s what I was thinking for this side of the kitchen,” and Macy launched into her plans for how to tackle the room.

  By the time the other kids arrived home from school, she and Savannah had made vast inroads. They only had the pantry to finish now, and the island, and after an in-depth discussion, had figured out exactly how to organize both spaces.

  “What are you doing?” Starla crawled onto a chair at the island and peered at them through her lashes. Macy made a note to enquire whether Starla’s teacher was a male or female. Seemed cruel to subject a man to her wiles. At least this early on. He’d never know what hit him.

  Macy was often amused when Nick came away from an encounter with Starla, blinking in utter confusion, unsure of how the little girl had gotten her way. Starla, she’d learned, often achieved her goal when she dealt with members of the opposite sex. Macy decided to observe the little girl in action – she might learn something.

  “We reorganized the kitchen,” Savannah said and with a huff, heaved a huge package of sugar to a shelf in the pantry.

  “You got to stay home from school to help Macy?” Brandt didn’t sound pleased with that notion.

  “No, she stayed home because she spent most of the night throwing up,” Macy countered, before the fireworks began at the unfairness of it all.

  Brandt still looked suspicious. He eyed Macy, like he was some sort of lie detector. “She was sick?”

  Macy offered him a decisive nod.

  “Why didn’t we get it?” Starla asked as she languidly reached for a zucchini bar on the plate in front of her.

  Bryce looked alarmed. “We’re not gonna get it next, are we?”

  “No,” Macy assured him. Ever since he and Rob had met, they’d become fast friends and Rob now visited often. Bryce seemed to look forward to his arrival, and Rob, bless him, now worked with Bryce on facial expressions and other social skills they lacked. She was heartened by their progress so far. Bryce couldn’t tell Rob he didn’t understand, but Rob already knew, because her brother understood his struggles all too well. It didn’t hurt the ten-year-old to know he wasn’t alone in the world, either. There were people out there who understood him.

  That little tidbit of information might be the reason why Rob had so far succeeded where no one else had. She hadn’t had to lock Bryce out of his room since introducing him to Rob.

  Starla took a bite out of her bar and made chewing look exotic. “Are you sure?” Crumbs did not litter her clothing. Nor did they line her mouth. Macy still hadn’t mastered the art of eating crumbly foods without leaving evidence of the deed. Starla made it look easy.

  “I’m sure. You’ll eventually have to deal with it, but none of you need to worry about getting what Savannah had. She needed to stay home and sleep.”

  “I hope I don’t get sick. We’re going to the circus on Friday, remember Macy?” Brandt asked. Of course, the thought of missing out on tigers and lions and bears would alarm Brandt.

  Macy frowned and peered at the calendar. “Is it this Friday already?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you give your permission slip to your teacher?” She thought she remembered signing the form.

  “Uh-huh. You have to pack my lunch,” he reminded her.

  “Right. I’ll buy everything for your lunch tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” he said and engaged in battle with a foe who had apparently jumped him in the kitchen. She left him with his slashing and sword thrusting to help Savannah finish the pantry.

  She attached a white board to the back of the door and she and Savannah surveyed it with triumph.

  “That’s a great idea, Macy,” Savannah said as she straightened the board.

  “I know. I couldn’t believe myself when I thought of it.”

  “This way, we have no excuse to run out of anything,” Savannah said. She picked up a blue marker and jotted a few items on the board.

  “So long as we remember to transfer this list to my phone, we’ll be okay,” Macy said dryly. Since joining the Nick Morrison residence she’d managed some “blonde” moments.

  Savannah laughed. “I’ll remember.”

  “Right. Oh, if you run out of certain items, add them to the list, too,” Macy said as she surveyed the newly organized area with satisfaction.

  “I will,” Savannah agreed, and Macy was heartened to see her cheeks barely reddened.

  ***

  No, he was sure of it. No doubts this time. Macy was awake and prowling. In a skimpy little soft looking nightgown, too. If you could call the tiny scraps of cloth barely covering her delectable self a nightgown. Nick peered around the doorway into the kitchen and watched as she bent to retrieve something from a bottom cupboard. He seemed to be spending a lot of time lurking in his own house. Yet this seemed the only method where he learned things he needed to know. Right now finding out more about his delectable nanny seemed like a great idea. Especially when she leaned further into the cabinet.

  As anticipated, the back of her nightie rode up and displayed... He frowned. White boxer like shorts with bright yellow happy faces. Why was she wearing boxers under that nightgown?

  He frowned again. What exactly had he expected to see? Lacy little nothings? Tiny silken panties? He didn’t need anyone to tell him he was an idiot. Yet he had definitely not expected underwear that resembled his own, with smiley faces.

  Okay, so the lady hadn’t left her bedroom with the thought of seduction. She’d probably left because she remembered something that needed done before she fell asleep. The underwear she had on were tight, so they obviously hadn’t been made for a man, but he still had trouble working out the decidedly unsexy panties with what he thought he’d see.

  They could be granny panties, his subconscious reminded him, and Nick suppressed the urge to sigh. He could completely concur that he needed more sleep. Macy was forever reminding him of this.

  She straightened again and set a bowl on the countertop. He leaned further out into the doorway to see better. Next, Macy trailed over to the fridge and extracted a container of ice cream. His eyebrows rose. He started thinking new thoughts.

  Especially when she added hot fudge and whipped cream to the fare. Help him, please.

  Nick cleared his throat at the same time he exited through the doorway into the kitchen. Macy yelped and smacked a hand to her chest, as though to stifle a racing heart. She glared at him.

  He shrugged and hoped his gesture was boyish. “Appears you’re making a sundae,” he said and grinned sheepishly at her.

  She scowled at him. “I am. But I’m not making one for someone who scares the bajeebies out of me.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” he protested and spread his arms wide, trying to look as innocent as possible.

  Nick seated himself at the counter. His eyes dropped to the solitary bowl. He bent and quickly found another. He wiggled his brows at her. “You wouldn’t want to make only one,” he advised.

  “Why not?” Macy sounded suspicious of his intentions. As she should be. Her nightie was see-though when she opened the fridge. Nick racked his brains for excuses to send her there a few more times.

  “Because you’ll make yourself a sundae and I’ll eat it.” If I don’t eat you first, he added silently. He tried to keep the lustful thoughts out of his eyes and voice. She’d dump the treat on his head. Not the best thing to do with ice cream.

  “Why should I share my sundae with you?” Her bright blue eyes raked him up and down. He hoped he detected a little lust on her part. Maybe he was dreaming.

  “I like cherries,” he blurted and felt like a complete idiot. Bryce could conduct this conversation better.

  “So do I.” She sounded skeptical. But h
er eyes had half-masted in the sexiest manner.

  Nick wanted to kiss her. He could almost feel the coolness of her lips and savor how her mouth would taste after a spoonful of ice cream. And hot fudge, and whipped topping.

  He barely managed to suppress his moan.

  “I think you should put cherries on top,” he said, and his voice sounded strangled. He cleared his throat, trying to make like he’d meant to sound that way.

  Macy looked like she contemplated bolting from the room. He took the ice cream scoop from her, deciding if he helped, maybe that would keep his thoughts centered. Dutifully digging out the creamy treat, he watched as she returned to the fridge.

  Yep, her nightie definitely showed to best advantage in front of the lighted interior. She was every man’s fantasy. A scantily clad woman highlighted by the light of a refrigerator. Mmm.

  Again, he had to work to stifle a moan. She’d punch him if she knew his thoughts. And then she’d leave the room, and maybe his house and that would be bad.

  A catastrophe.

  He’d have to find another nanny. Of course, maybe he could locate one who spent a lot less time on his mind. He could barely finish a day’s work without thoughts of Macy intruding and causing him no end of trouble.

  During a meeting with a client yesterday, he’d actually found himself sketching a picture of her face. He caught himself just in time, before the client returned from using the rest room, but he had to work hard to keep focused on the task at hand.

  Now, in the shadows of the night, his mind raced ahead to possibilities. He was alone with Macy, the most attractive woman he’d met in a long time. She barely had any clothes on, and she was in the process of making him a sundae.

  Nick didn’t think there could be a more perfect woman. Of course, if he scared her away with an unwelcome advance, because surely it would be unwelcome, he’d be without her presence every day. A smart woman knew not to accept advances from the man who employed her and Macy was smart. So he would have to start this process all over again if he jumped her. He didn’t want another nanny. But if he did, he hoped he had enough sense to make certain she wasn’t blonde.

  Macy shook the can that held the whipped topping and her breasts bounced. Nick quickly directed his eyes and thoughts away from her. She was innocently making him a late night dessert and he was thinking lustful, unwanted thoughts about her.

  The hot fudge lay thick and heavy across the ice cream and when she added the cherry, he swallowed. The confection looked amazingly appetizing. Not unlike Macy.

  Again, he yanked his thoughts back to the food, but then Macy leaned over the island to thrust the second bowl in front of him. He had an incredible view down her nightgown. His eyes encountered white cotton. Frowning he tried to sort out the situation, but then the scent of the hot fudge wafted up to him and he lost his train of thought.

  She handed him a spoon before plunking down in the seat across from him and digging in. Macy’s groan nearly undid him, but not as much as the sight of her tongue reaching out to lick the last of the fudge off the spoon.

  He nearly melted into a pile of hormones and lust beneath the island. Oh, Bessie, this was not good. To divert his attention, he scooped up some of his treat and nearly rammed it into his mouth.

  The coldness of the ice cream combined with the heat of the hot fudge and the fluffiness of the whipped topping helped. His taste buds cheered at the advent of that first bite. The second proved just as good.

  He contemplated the third, but made the mistake of looking at Macy again. She had some whipped topping on the corner of her mouth. Nick found he couldn’t tug his eyes away from that little dollop of white cream.

  She must have caught sight of his perusal because she paused, her spoon halfway between her bowl and mouth. “What?”

  I want to kiss you.

  ***

  While she enjoyed her ice cream sundae, Macy did have to admit Nick’s continuous perusal made her want to squirm on her seat. Why did he keep staring at her? Most men would be enthralled with the dessert in front of them.

  She’d tumbled out of bed after a restless sleep because of the misfortune of dreaming about a sundae. That had propelled her downstairs. Macy knew she hadn’t bothered to brush her hair. Glancing down at her attire, she breathed some relief in that fact that her clothing did cover her.

  Not that Nick would likely notice her if she traipsed naked through the house. The man must not have normal male hormones, because she never saw lust in his eyes when he looked at her. Not that she hadn’t butted up against this unattractive-to-the-opposite-sex phenomenon in the past. Usually only lechers were interested in her. Not the good guys.

  Such a crying shame.

  Because nubile men weren’t interested in her she’d given up dating a few years back, and had forgotten to pick the habit back up. A sad but true story. Her love life could definitely use some improving.

  And if she kept eating ice cream this late at night, she’d never date because her butt would spread to insurmountable proportions.

  That took all the pleasure out of her sundae.

  Staring glumly into the melting remains in her bowl, Macy contemplated jumping Nick just to see what happened. Of course, she’d lose her job and then where would she be?

  Probably more sane. Less stressed.

  But for some reason, the thought of not taking care of Nick and his four kids left a small hollow in the vicinity of her heart. Sure, life might be easier, but now that the kids tolerated her, she found life more fulfilling.

  She looked up to see him staring at her.

  “What?” Did that belligerent voice really come from her?

  “Nothing,” he said on a squeak.

  Great, she’d made Nick Morrison squeak. She probably had hot fudge smeared across her face. Macy knew she wasn’t the neatest of eaters. He probably was eyeing the kitchen to find the nearest cloth to wipe her dirty face. That’s what dads did.

  It’d be nice if he viewed her in light of someone to make more kids with, rather than as another responsibility. Their relationship had evolved a bit, and they’d learned to stand united, but so far, she hadn’t seen much to encourage her in the fact that he liked what he saw.

  Macy grimaced.

  Not that she dressed to dazzle either. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a skirt. Or nice shoes. Only a boa constrictor, ragged shirts and sweat pants.

  Looking down at her midriff now, she had seen some improvement in her abdominal muscles. Carrying a small but still heavy snake around one’s middle did cause one to use muscles not normally called into service. She’d seen some definite muscle definition in her stomach and waist.

  Sexy is exactly what she’d thought. But how to reveal her newfound appeal without making it obvious? Frowning, she noticed Nick continued to stare at her.

  Okay, enough was enough.

  “Nick,” she scolded.

  His eyes widened. “What?”

  “If you keep staring at me, I’m going to smack you.” Macy infused her voice with what the kids had dubbed, “Mom command.”

  Nick’s eyes quickly fell to his bowl. He dipped his spoon inside and came up with a gooey mess, which he transferred to his mouth. Not a good idea for her to be thinking of his mouth.

  She averted her own gaze, hoping she hadn’t inadvertently revealed her feelings. But Nick continued to eat, methodically and easily. Like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Blast the man.

  Chapter 7

  “Savannah, you didn’t touch your hamburger,” Nick said, and frowned. Macy glanced at the teenager’s plate.

  “Was there something wrong with it?” she asked the girl.

  Savannah shrugged.

  “I’ll eat it,” Brandt offered, and with another careless shrug, Savannah transferred her supper to his plate.

  “Honey, why didn’t you eat?” Nick continued, and Macy met his eyes. His were troubled and since she had no idea what bothered his daughter t
his time, she tried to convey that with her own troubled gaze.

  “She didn’t eat her sausage this morning either,” Starla inserted.

  Savannah sent her sister a venomous look. Starla didn’t appear to notice.

  “Why not?” Macy asked Savannah.

  The teenager wouldn’t look her in the eyes, but Macy had a small niggle.

  “You don’t have to eat something you’re not interested in,” Macy said as kindly as she could.

  “Macy, I really don’t like meat,” Savannah whispered, as though it were a crime.

  “You don't like meat?” Nick thundered and Macy kicked him under the table.

  “Not now,” she hissed at him under her breath. He subsided but she could tell he wasn’t happy. “Savannah, if you don't want to eat meat, we’re not going to make you.”

  That simple statement seemed to transform the girl. “Really?”

  “Really. What I need to know is that you’re not eating meat.” Macy kept her tone light and easy.

  “Why?”

  “Because you need protein in your diet.”

  “Oh.” Looked like that was news to the teenager.

  “Why does she need protein?” Starla licked her popsicle with all the grace of a cat. Macy envied her. Not once had she had to use a stain remover on Starla’s clothes. It was uncanny and wrong.

  “She needs to eat from all the food groups. We all do.”

  “But how?” Savannah asked.

  “They make lots of things from soy. Like hamburgers and hot dogs and chicken. All sorts of things that aren’t meat, but will give you the protein you need. Also, you can increase the amount of peanut butter you eat, and you like yogurt, right?”

  Savannah nodded.

  “Okay, I’ll buy you more yogurt. Why don’t you grab some now?”

  “Thanks, Macy,” Savannah said as she helped herself.

  Macy’s grin slid sideways. “You’re welcome. Now, whose turn is it to help with the dishes?”

  “Mine,” Brandt said through a mouthful of Savannah’s hamburger.