The logical thing would be for me to offer to go get a ball or to fluff it off as something I could get Joey for his birthday in the fall. Considering how large the yard is, I don't have anything out there to play with. A soccer ball and a net would be good for Joey and encourage more exercise and outdoor time. Getting to the store is what's actually holding me back.

"Sorry," Ash says. "Shouldn't be telling you what to do with your money."

"No, it's—would you mind going? I'll pay for your gas and the cost of the equipment. But I'd have no idea what to buy or what was even any good." When he seems to hesitate, I add, "I'll watch Chloe, or you can go on your own and I'll watch both of them."

"What do you reckon, Jo-Jo? Should we go kit you out for some footie?"

He claps his hands together and looks to me for confirmation.

"You can go with Nanny Ash to get a ball and a net," I say as Ash hands me Chloe again.

Joey jumps up and down, and he follows Ash to the front entrance chattering away in broken sentences about balls and nets. His excitement is contagious, and I can't help grinning as I watch them drive down the laneway, Ash obviously responding to Joey's enthusiasm by the animated expression on his face too.

It's the first time since I decided to have Joey that I've wondered whether I did the right thing. Joey's male influences have amounted to my father and that's it. All of my friends back home were women, my nannies have been women, and I haven't dated since Joey was born. I couldn't imagine bringing a man into his life who likely won't stay, so I haven't bothered trying.

Ash and Joey are already thick as thieves. It warms my heart and makes me a little nervous as well. We're only supposed to be in England for this year. There's a chance the project could run longer, especially considering the willful incompetence of some of my colleagues, but Ash won't be a permanent fixture in his life. No matter who I'd hired, this might have been an issue. We've never kept a nanny long enough for Joey to become seriously attached before.

While they're gone, I take Chloe into the kitchen to get her a snack, and when I hear the car tires in the laneway, I go to the kitchen window. In the yard, the two of them are putting together the net. Or rather, Ash is putting it together and exhibiting remarkable patience while Joey tries to help.

Once everything is together, the two of them kick the soccer ball between them. Then Joey kicks it into the net, and he runs around the field screaming, "Goal" and pawing at his T-shirt as though he's going to rip it off. Ash is busting a gut laughing and clapping at Joey's exuberance.

Instead of staying inside, I wander out with Chloe on my hip, and the two of them are engaged in an intense conversation about the right way to kick the ball.

"I saw you scored, Joey! Well done," I say.

He beams at me and then goes right back to focusing on the ball and his feet. Ash demonstrates a kick, and Joey runs after the ball, trying to kick it and run back with it. When frustration seems to overwhelm him that the ball won't go where he wants, he picks it up and runs with it.

"Mate, now you're playing American football," Ash teases, and he glances at me. "We English don't use our hands unless you're the goalkeeper."

Chloe starts to whimper in my arms, and she holds out her hands for Ash. He comes over and takes her, lifting her high in the air to her delighted giggles. When he brings her down, he brushes a kiss across her forehead before settling her into his embrace to watch Joey kick the ball around the field.

I can't even remember the last time I felt this warm contentedness in my soul. Maybe when the nurse placed Joey in my arms. Apart from my unwelcome attraction to him, being around Ash is easy.

"Is there something wrong with the hire car?" Ash asks.

"What do you mean?" The contentedness flies out and a surge of panic swarms in.

"You have it, but you haven't used it once since I arrived. The cabbie seems to know you quite well, and you even said he's one of the only other nice blokes you've met." He sneaks a peek at me before focusing on Joey again.

I could lie, like I did to someone at work when they caught me getting out of the cab, but I doubt he'd accept any of the bogus excuses I could come up with. Not that he'd call me on them, necessarily, but I like that we seem to be upfront with each other without either of us taking it too personally.

"I've never driven a standard before," I admit.

"Right." Silence sits between us for a beat. "But you could call the hire car place and have them switch it out for an automatic. I'm surprised they've given you a manual without the proper license."

"No one asked me," I say. "They assumed, and when my secretary mentioned the rental, I told her it was fine." My cheeks are hot. "I didn't want everyone at the office to think I'm old or disabled. I've had a hard enough time getting them all on board."

"Those do tend to be the only reason people here drive automatics, but you're American. If it's normal there, no one will take the Mickey."

"They will make fun of me precisely because I am American. It's like their favorite game—talking about all the things I do not know because I'm American."

"No one would know unless you told them."

"At some point someone would find out for some reason, and after the week I've had, I'd rather not."

"I'm going to be honest. I'm not sure how taking a cab to work every day is better."

I already told a colleague that I take cabs so I can feel organized and hit the ground running the minute I arrive to work. Sounded like I was a go-getter lady boss, but it probably isn't the type of comment to win people over.

"I could teach you," Ash says. "Once you get onto it, it's simple enough."

Joey finally manages to get the ball in the net again after chasing it all around the lawn, and he raises his hands, running around the field with excitement. An unexpected bonus to letting him watch soccer with Ash is Joey's inherent enthusiasm about it.

"That's a nice offer," I say, "but there's no way I'd be comfortable with the kids in the car while I learn."

"Easy-peasy," Ash says. "I'll call Diya, Tejinder's sister. She'll come watch them. Or Tejinder will."

"She was your other reference. Is Diya his younger sister?"

"Older," Ash says, dragging his phone out of his pocket. "She loves Chloe, and she'll come if I ask. Yeah?" He checks in with me, a text box already open.

"Tomorrow?" I may need to work up my nerve to do this.

"I'm going to attempt a proper roast dinner tomorrow for tea. Do you reckon I can ask Tejinder and Diya to witness my colossal failure? Good for as laugh. I would say the food is compensation for the child-minding, but they may ask for a refund if I do that." His light brown eyes dance with playful humor.

He's a very hard person to resist. I'm not sure what happened with Chloe's mother, but it seems implausible to me that a woman would leave her child and a man like Ash. As far as I can tell, he hasn't spoken to her once in the time he's been here.

But he also hasn't asked any questions about Joey's father, which makes me sure Chloe's mother is off the table as a discussion point. We're still skating on the surface of each other's emotional lives, and maybe that's my ticket to not developing a full-blown, undeniable crush on him. Keep our interactions and revelations to easy to digest pieces rather than those sticky, emotional conversations that are fraught with real feeling.

"If they're okay with helping out, dinner is the least we can do. I'll help you with it, though I have to admit that I likely know less than you."

He lets out a hearty laugh. "Impossible."

Oh, it's not only possible but probable. The two of us will be two novices working side-by-side, and knowing me, freaking out over my lack of knowledge. As he types into a group chat, I can't tear my gaze away from his amused expression. It's only when Joey plows into my legs that I remember I should have been watching my kid instead of being sucked into staring at my nanny.

"Right," Ash says. "We're all sorted. They'll come round mid-afternoon to mind the sprogs, and we'll teach you how to not die on the British roads."

So optimistic. A manual on the wrong side of the road with traffic laws I barely understand. Not dying seems like the right bar to set.

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