Angel knew he was in over his head. Little girls were bad enough, but now he was expected to deal with one who had lost her dad? No way. No frigging way.
“I didn’t want you thinking she was weird,” Bailey confessed. “She might need some extra time adjusting. I’m sorry to have to ask for special attention for her, but I don’t know what else to do.” She brushed away more tears. “When Mayor Marsha mentioned you’d served as well, I wanted to talk to you. Because I was hoping you’d understand.”
It took all his considerable strength to stay seated. Because what he really wanted was to run as hard and fast as he could and never look back. But that wasn’t an option. Not with Bailey staring at him with her big tear-filled eyes. And Mayor Marsha was an old lady. No way he could tell her what he really thought.
“Don’t worry,” Angel told her. “Chloe can have all the time she needs. The first season is only two months. I’m new, too. We’ll figure it out together.”
Bailey smiled at him. While he preferred his women a little older and a lot more difficult, he had to admit, it was a hell of a smile.
“Thank you,” she said. “You’re very kind.”
He wanted to point out he was a lot of things, but kind wasn’t one of them. Instead he nodded and stood. “I’ll keep an eye out for Chloe and let you know if there are any difficulties. All the girls will be new to the FWM, so they’ll all be thinking about fitting in.”
“You’re right. I hadn’t thought about that. Thank you.”
He nodded and waited until she’d walked away before looking at the wall and wondering if it would help to bang his head against it.
Consuelo strolled into his office. The raised eyebrows were enough for him to know she’d heard at least part of the conversation.
“They gave me little girls,” he grumbled. “Eight of them. I thought I was getting teenage boys.”
Consuelo sat on the corner of his desk. “You should be grateful.”
“I know how to handle boys.”
“Because of Marcus?”
He nodded.
“But you haven’t been around them since he died,” she said quietly. “I think you’re wrong. I think boys his age would have been a lot harder.”
He brushed off her words. “What do I know about little girls? They’re small and delicate.”
She grinned. “They’re not breakable, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’ll do fine. You’re good with kids.”
He glanced at her. “How would you know that? You’ve never seen me with a kid.”
“I’ve seen you with Ford. It’s pretty much the same thing.”
“Funny,” he grumbled. “Very funny.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“GIRLS,” JACK SAID. “Children.”
Taryn hung her suit jacket, then reached for the button on her skirt. They were in the women’s locker room. She wanted to point out the word women to Jack but as she was constantly in the men’s locker room, she knew he would simply mock her.
“Yes, seven-year-old girls who are, by definition, children.”
“And you.”
She unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. After she stepped out of it, she picked it up and hung it on a second hanger, next to the jacket. Still wearing her silk blouse, she turned to face Jack.
He stood there, all big-guy tough, leaning against one of the closed lockers. Without her usual heels, she was significantly shorter, which she usually hated. Even so, she walked over to him and put her hands on his chest.
“It wasn’t that I didn’t want our baby,” she began quietly.
His dark gaze locked on her face. “You didn’t.”
She winced. “I was young and we didn’t know each other well and I felt really bad about getting pregnant. There’s a difference.”
“Not much of one.”
She thought about pointing out that he hadn’t been all that upset about the loss, either. Having a child would mean getting involved emotionally. Something Jack did his best to avoid. But that wasn’t the point.
“I’m helping out Angel, and the girls are a part of that. I think it will be fun.”
In a strange way, she was looking forward to being part of FWM, even if only for a couple of months.
“You’ll do great,” he told her.
She studied him. “Are you okay?”
“The best.”
She didn’t smile. “Sometimes I worry about you.”
“Don’t. I always land on my feet.”
“It’s your heart I worry about,” she said without thinking, then shook her head. “Sorry. I meant—”
He pressed his fingers to her mouth. “Don’t apologize. I know what you meant.”
She leaned into him. He pulled her close and held her. “I’ll always love you, big guy,” she whispered.
“I’ll always love you, too. Even with your bony ass.”
“My ass is not bony. I’m trim. I do Pilates.”
“You’re such a girl.”
“Which makes our sexual past easier for you to explain.”
He chuckled, then released her. He pointed to the clock on the wall. “You’d better hurry or you’ll be late.”
She followed his gaze and groaned. “I already am. You know where the FWM hut is?”
“Not a clue.”