Winning his Heart Page 5

  Unsure if she’d even introduced herself to Glenna, Franchesca stood there dumbstruck. Not only by her surroundings, but also her desire to place a kiss on Mike’s cheek as he had done to Glenna. She hadn’t seen him since their coffee date...meeting the week before. Looking at him now, a sense of coming home hit her like a truck.

  “Are you okay?” He placed a hand on her arm, his brow furrowed with concern.

  She blinked and shook her head. “Yeah. Sorry. Meh. I’m just...this is a lot to take in.” Her hand waved at the house around them.

  Mike dropped his hand. “Ah, yes. It can be overwhelming. Sorry.”

  “Oh, gosh! Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who’s acting like an idiot.”

  His laughed echoed once more through the hallway as well as her whole body. “You’re not an idiot, Franchesca.” He put his hands in his jean pockets and shook his head. “Our world can take some getting used to.”

  She nodded, unsure of what to say. Noelle had told her about trips to New York with Wes on the family’s private jet and that they had a driver named Wilson who took them everywhere. Multiple homes all over the world. They weren’t just big money, they were stupid big money. But hearing about it from her friend and standing in the foyer of the actual mansion were two different things. What she did know of the St. Claires from having been around Wes and from what she’d seen of Mike so far, they were far from pretentious. They were kind and generous and worked hard for what they had. She respected that.

  “Wes and Noelle are in the kitchen. My father is out of town so you’ll meet him next time. Let me show you around.”

  “Okay.”

  He placed a hand on her back, something he seemed to have a knack for doing, and guided her down a long corridor. The heat of his touch not lost on her, she forgot to feel as if he were claiming control again and let him lead her through multiple doorways and down just as many hallways. The place was like a maze.

  “Through here is my suite that I share with Annalise.”

  Did he just say his suite?

  She walked through the doorway and stopped. It was no suite. It was a full-on apartment within the house. As if she’d walked through the wardrobe into Narnia, she turned to look back to be sure. Mike stood behind her, smiling.

  “Dad had four wings built, one for each one of us kids. Wes and I are on this side of the main house, Lucas and McKenna’s suites are on the other.”

  Dumbfounded again, she nodded. Unlike the rest of what she’d seen of the house, which had dark mahogany and lots of golds and red tones, Mike’s suite was all modern. Clean lines. Black, gray, and white the base colors for everything including the walls and furniture. A big screen TV the size of her living room hung on the wall above a fireplace that ran along the bottom. Modern art hung on the walls while framed family photos sat on the shelves next to the television. Although completely different from the main house, it exuded warmth. The kind that comes from a masculine presence. The kind of presence that stood beside her and watched as she took it all in.

  “I know it’s a bit of a man cave, but I like it.”

  She looked at him. Was he blushing? He tried to shrug it off. “It’s fantastic. Did you choose everything yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then it’s perfect. It’s your space. It should reflect you.”

  His grin and straightened shoulders said she’d hit the mark. As confident as he was, there was a shy side to Mike St. Claire that was peeking out and adding to her list of things that fascinated her.

  “Noelle said you guys built this place when you and Wes were teenagers. Please tell me it didn’t look like this then. I imagine you’d have been the most popular boy in school, but...wow.”

  That earned her a hearty laugh from him. A sound she was loving more and more each time she heard it. “No. Dad built the main house first. We all stayed there. As we got older, became adults, he added on. By then, I was married and the others were old enough to choose what we all wanted. What fit our personalities.” He looked around, his hands in his pockets again. “But now that you say it, this could have scored me some serious status in high school, that’s for sure.”

  “You must have married young.” Oh gosh. She really hated when words flew from her mouth without thinking things through. “Sorry. That’s none of my business.”

  “It’s okay. Yes. Anna and I met in college and married just after graduation. We had Annalise when we were in our late 20’s and now I’m a thirty-three-year-old widower.”

  “I really am sorry. It wasn’t my place to bring this up.” The pain in his eyes tore at her heart. So young to lose so much.

  “We’re friends. Friends can ask each other stuff, right?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “For example, you told me you came home to care for your mom but do you have plans to return to New York?”

  “Not now, no. I think I told you on our car ride the other day that things weren’t exactly going my way in New York. But moving to Montana and staying was not the plan. Neither was being a nanny and yet, here I am.” Her attempt at a lighthearted smile failed.

  “Don’t sell yourself short. You have a lot of life ahead of you to live whatever it is you want to live.”

  For a second, he looked from her eyes to her mouth. Was he thinking of kissing her? Because if so, she was willing. More than willing. Standing in the doorway to his suite, sharing deep thoughts had her all in for some time wrapped in his arms, exploring that mouth of his.

  He blinked and the moment was gone.

  “Daddy!”

  “Hey, pumpkin!” He opened his arms wide and Annalise jumped into them as if she’d done it hundreds of times before.

  Until that moment, Franchesca had never been so jealous of a little kid.

  Mike held his daughter propped on one arm as he introduced them. “Annalise, this is Miss Stone. She’s going to come over and play with you sometimes when I’m not here.”

  “Hi, Miss Stone.” She waved her little hand as if Franchesca were across the room instead of standing beside them.

  “Hi, Annalise.”

  “I know Miss Stone though, Daddy.” Annalise put her hands on his cheeks so he was forced to look straight at her. “She hangs out with Miss Noelle at dance class.”

  “That’s true. We have met before. You have a good memory, kiddo.” Franchesca winked at the little girl.

  “Thanks.” She tried to wink back, but ended up blinking.

  Mike laughed. His face lit up when he looked at his daughter. The pain that had been in his eyes just minutes before was gone. Well, not gone, but definitely glazed over with love for his little girl.

  “Can I show Miss Stone my room, Daddy?”

  “Of course.” He set Annalise down.

  “It’s this way, Miss Stone.” She took Franchesca’s hand and pulled her past the living room.

  Franchesca had seen the child at Noelle’s dance class and had been there when she’d set up Wes and Noelle for the Bake Off, so she knew the little girl was far from shy. Downright assertive was more like it.

  She could hear Mike’s chuckle as he followed behind them. Oh, yeah. She was in big trouble. Not only was he gorgeous and available, the daughter was easy to fall for as well. She’d gotten herself in a whole mess of St. Claire trouble.

  Mike was glad when Franchesca had agreed to join them for dinner. When he’d asked, she’d looked skeptical, but he assured her Wes and Noelle would be there and that put her more at ease. Extending the invitation was selfish on his part. Having had a nice afternoon with her getting to know Annalise and vice versa, it seemed the natural course of action. But he sensed that she was trying to keep a line between them as employer and employee. A tough one since she’d be in their home almost every day. Not to mention the buzz of attraction between them.

  Glenna had fixed an amazing Italian meal, as always. And one that she and Franchesca talked quite a bit about as they’d dined. Franchesca’s mother, Sophia, was Italian and had
taught her daughter all the tricks of the kitchen.

  It was later in the evening and only Wes, Noelle, Mike, and Franchesca were left at the kitchen island, sitting on barstools and enjoying a bottle of Giuseppe Quintarelli that Wes had brought back from his last trip to Italy.

  “I honestly can’t remember the last time I ate that much food.” Noelle leaned back and patted her flat stomach.

  “It was two nights ago when you were here for dinner,” Wes teased.

  “Ugh. You’re right. I need to be careful. Glenna’s cooking is going to make me weigh 300 pounds.”

  “You couldn’t weigh 300 pounds if you tried.” Franchesca waved a hand at her friend.

  Noelle pointed a finger at her. “You wait and see. You’ll be here now for lunchtime and enough meals that you’ll be riding the weight gain train right along with me.”

  All four of them laughed.

  Mike couldn’t remember the last time he was this relaxed and happy, having spent an evening with family and friends talking about everything and nothing over a fantastic meal. And Franchesca fit right in. Not because she was Noelle’s friend, but because she was...herself. She brought life and energy to the room, to the conversation.

  A shriek of terror tore through the calm, Wes, Noelle, and Franchesca sitting up straight at the noise. Mike, however, bolted from his seat and ran for Annalise’s room. Baby monitors were in every room of the house. With a place so large, he had to be able to hear his daughter when she was in her room sleeping and there was no way to do so in a house that size without the monitors.

  Grateful his suite was closest to the main house, he reached Annalise fast and scooped her up in his arms. Since Anna’s death, she’d had nightmares. Ones where she was trapped in a car or left alone and couldn’t find him or Anna. It gutted him every time her little voice told him what she’d seen in her dreams.

  He whispered comforting words in her ear as he carried her to the kitchen. After a nightmare, she wanted to be with family. Uncle Dubs and Miss Noelle had become her favorites in distracting her from her fears.

  Familiar with what was happening, Wes and Noelle were calm when he entered the room. But Franchesca’s eyes were wide, concern written all over her features.

  “Hey, My Lise. Do you need a hug?” Wes stood and held his arms out. His niece nodded and went willingly into his embrace. Every damn day Mike thanked the Lord above for his family.

  “Is she okay?” Franchesca whispered to him as he leaned against the counter near her.

  He shook his head. “She gets bad nightmares.”

  “That’s what Noelle said.” She patted his arm then moved from her barstool and found her purse that sat on the end of the counter. After digging through it for a moment, she pulled out two sock puppets, grinning at each one.

  What in the world was she doing?

  “Hey, Annalise. You want to see something?”

  His daughter’s head rested on his brother’s shoulder. She nodded, one tiny finger in her mouth. She’d stopped sucking her thumb a year or so ago, but when she was afraid, still found comfort in having something in her mouth.

  Mike sat back on his barstool as Franchesca proceeded to perform a puppet play right there in the kitchen. With a cat puppet on one hand and a dog on the other, she launched into a story about how they get lost, but helped each other find their way home.

  They all watched, mesmerized. How she could take something as simple as a sock and make it funny and entertaining was amazing. Ten minutes later, Annalise was laughing so hard she clutched her tummy, all evidence of fear gone.

  They applauded when Franchesca was done as she took her bows and gave the puppets to Annalise to play with. Sitting beside Mike once again, she took a sip of wine and smiled at him.

  “You’re amazing.”

  “Thanks. I know.” Her wink told him she was teasing, but he knew better. This woman was all that and more. Confident, talented, kind, feisty. God help him. He was in big trouble.

  Chapter Seven

  “Hey, Mom! I’m home!”

  Franchesca plopped her keys and purse on the table inside the front door. Exhausted didn’t even begin to describe the state she was in. She’d worked for Mike one week and that, mixed with running her studio, teaching classes, and making sure her mom was cared for while she was gone was more than filling her time.

  Not that she was complaining. Working for Mike was going well. Annalise was a doll. Energetic, but a great kid. And being around Mike was a bonus. He’d stayed nearby most of the week she’d worked. He didn’t hover. Since he’d stopped racing, he had a position in the family business so he worked or ran errands. But he wanted to test the situation with him in town to make sure Annalise would adapt before leaving on a work trip. It made sense. But based on how things were going, he’d be back in the racing business soon.

  She took a deep breath in and let it out. Smoke. She smelled smoke. She ran for the kitchen, finding the oven as the source of it. The fire alarm kicked in, the sound piercing the air and making her cover her ears. Spinning around, she found a dish towel and wincing as she had to uncover her ears, began fanning the smoke away from the alarm. When a small break in the noise came, she turned off the oven and opened the door. With one arm she covered her face while with the other hand, used the towel to grab the cookie sheet inside and toss it into the sink.

  She closed the oven door once more, her face still buried in her elbow. Small, dark circles covered the cookie sheet. What once was cookie dough was now charred remains. She opened the kitchen window and fanned the air some more with the towel. It cleared fast, but the smell remained. She’d have to deal with that later. Where the heck was her mother?

  “Mom?” It wasn’t a big house. She had to be somewhere close by. “Mom?”

  She peered into the family room. Nothing. She walked down the hall to where their bedrooms were but didn’t see anyone.

  “Mom?” Panic bubbled up within her, threatening to take hold, but she tamped it down. Her mother was here somewhere. There wasn’t a car for her to drive and Franchesca had only been gone a short time to run a few errands. She thought for sure her mother would be fine. She’d been okay for an hour or two without company up until this point and showed no reason for Franchesca to think otherwise.

  Once she’d checked every nook and cranny of the house with no sign of her mother, she ran to the backyard.

  “Oh, hello dear!” Her mother waved to her from the corner of the yard. Kneeling in the grass, her white pants were covered in dirt, her hands filthy. There was a small hole in the soil, apparently dug by hand. “I thought I would do some gardening. It’s such a beautiful day.”

  Franchesca stood stone still. Her mother had none of her gardening clothes on or her gloves. The caddy that held all her gardening tools and such was nowhere in sight. No seeds to plant. Nothing. It looked as if her mother had been sitting in her chair on the back porch reading, but then wandered into the yard without any plan to actually garden.

  Unsure of how to handle the situation, Franchesca chose to go along with it and see how her mother would respond. “It is a lovely day, Mom. What are you going to plant?”

  Her mom leaned back on her heels and smiled. “I was thinking of doing a pumpkin patch this year. We could grow enough for all of us kids to have a pumpkin to carve at Halloween.”

  The panic that Franchesca had tamped down before rose up again, this time settling in her system and causing her hands to shake. Her mother had never planted pumpkins in her life and Franchesca was an only child. What kids was she talking about?

  She walked closer to her mom, stopping just a few steps away. “Did you bake some cookies today too?”

  “Oh, I did that earlier. Help yourself to some. They’re delicious.” She turned once more to her digging, her bare hands clawing at the earth in slow, long strokes.

  Franchesca’s gut filled with dread. “Ok. I will. That sounds good.” She turned and walked back into the house, her feet moving of their own
volition, her mind not feeling a part of her body at that moment.

  Finding her phone, she returned to the back porch to keep an eye on her mother as she called the doctor.

  This was bad. This was really, really bad.

  Franchesca sat on the sofa in Mike’s suite. Annalise was tucked into bed, multiple bedtime stories read, and another puppet show performed. After that first one in the kitchen, Annalise asked for one every time Franchesca came over. Which was fine with her. She’d even made more puppets to add to her collection, a project that served her well at her drama school also.

  Spending so much time with Annalise was showing her how much she really loved kids. Maybe it was from growing up an only child. Self-sufficient, she’d never thought about what she’d missed not having siblings, but the draw of children could be for that reason. Sure, she owned a drama school for kids, but only because her mom encouraged her to when she’d returned to Marietta. At the time she was in need of not only a job, but wanted something to do with the arts. Her mother had heard the school was available and helped her with the start-up costs. Her parents were by no means wealthy, but they’d been smart over the years, even saving for Franchesca for a “rainy day.” Her mom had deemed the drama school a rainy day, so here she was.

  She’d left behind a few decent acting gigs, but nothing that fulfilled her. A Broadway audition would’ve been a nice thing to cross off her bucket list, but that was a far off dream. Especially now with all the responsibilities she had in Montana. If she’d gotten a part in a Broadway play, off Broadway even... Well, that wouldn’t have mattered either. Her mother had needed her and she’d come home.

  A sigh escaped as she leaned to grab her water from the coffee table. She took a sip and leaned back again, glass in hand. Her thumb ran up and down the side, the coolness of the glass soothing.

  She’d taken her mother to see the doctor after the gardening incident, as she was calling it. The doctor recommended she look into May Bell House. It had a good reputation. Her mother would be in good hands. It was also a cost she could handle. As much as a relief as that was, Franchesca still stressed. She’d seen her parents take care of their parents and it wasn’t cheap. Her mother’s diagnosis at the moment was dementia, but that could spiral into all kinds of things, including Alzheimer’s. She shook her head. Her mother was still so young. How could this be happening?