Lockwood Creek Book Three - Can be read as stand-alone.
Dr Chris Chambers had no intention of settling down, he loved the chase too damn much. Or so he told himself. And love 'em and leave 'em were words he swore by. And so what if names like play...
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~ ~ Beth ~ ~
"Hells' bells!" I shrieked, ducking my head when a crazy-ass bird dive-bombed me, aiming right for my head.
As it squawked and flew off to sit on the branch of a nearby tree, my hand flew over my chest to calm my racing heart.
Where in the heck had that come from?
I'd read somewhere that such a thing happening was a bad omen and I felt a sense of foreboding that my day was about to take a turn for the worst.
Shaking it off, muttering to myself, "Quit being superstitious!" I walked up the steps to the backdoor. Stepping inside the kitchen, it was snack time. Opening the stainless steel door of the refrigerator, my eyes wandered over its colourful contents. It took me less than a minute to decide as I grabbed the strawberries, yoghurt and orange juice. Nudging the door shut with a flick of my hip, I walked over to the countertop. Looking out the window, I saw Dillon running around with his toy rocket and Chloe chasing a butterfly.
Who were Chloe and Dillon you might ask?
Well, they were the children of Mr and Mrs Thompson and this was my first proper job working as a nanny since I graduated.
I'd been here almost seven weeks and so far the children and I had been getting on like a house on fire.
At the start, Chloe was a little prickly, but now you couldn't get her to be quiet for love or money. But I didn't mind. I enjoyed listening to her rattle on at the speed of a runaway train.
And whilst I was ecstatic about my job, there were two downsides.
The first one being, I was three hours away from home and more than a little homesick still. And the second brought on a sigh... Mr Thompson. Chloe and Dillon's daddy.
He hadn't been at my interview. I only met with Mrs Thompson and although she seemed a little uptight she was friendly and nice.
Mr Thompson, however, well, he made me feel... for what a better word, uncomfortable.
And call me paranoid, but when he was around it felt like he was watching. And maybe he was? I mean, I was looking after his kids, so perhaps he didn't trust me yet.
But as I kept trying to tell myself it was normal, even my own reassurances couldn't explain the accidental touching.
Now, I know I had little experience in the ways of men or naïve, as Lana often took great joy in telling me. But on the second week, he had reached up for a glass from the cupboard above me whilst I was chopping vegetables. Now you might think that's fine. But I swore something hard pressed into my lower back.
But that was crazy, right?
Shaking my head and saying out loud, "It's just your imagination."
Thankfully, these past few weeks we hadn't crossed paths much. He was one of those fancy cosmetic surgeons, and he'd been leaving the house early and returning when I was bathing the kids. Then, after I read them their bedtime stories and settled them down to sleep, I made sure I stayed in my bedroom where I would sketch or listen to music, and on my days off, I went back home.
