Nanny For Hire - A Steamy Single-Dad Billionaire Romance (San Bravado Billionaires' Club Book 2)
Author: Valentine, Layla; Rayner, Holly
Date: 2018-04-06

Nanny For Hire

Layla Valentine

Holly Rayner

Contents

Nanny For Hire

1.
Jayne

2.
Jayne

3.
Benjamin

4.
Jayne

5.
Jayne

6.
Benjamin

7.
Jayne

8.
Benjamin

9.
Jayne

10.
Jayne

11.
Benjamin

12.
Jayne

13.
Benjamin

14.
Benjamin

15.
Jayne

16.
Jayne

17.
Benjamin

18.
Jayne

19.
Jayne

20.
Jayne

21.
Benjamin

22.
Jayne

23.
Jayne

24.
Benjamin

25.
Jayne

Epilogue

Layla Valentine & Holly Rayner

Second Chance Twins

Introduction

1.
Shelley

2.
Shelley

3.
Miles

4.
Shelley

5.
Shelley

6.
Shelley

7.
Shelley

8.
Shelley

9.
Miles

More Series by Holly Rayner

Nanny For Hire

Copyright 2018 by Layla Valentine and Holly Rayner

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.

All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Jayne

“Here’s to freedom!” Amy sings out. The champagne cork pops, thick foam spilling over the bottle’s lip.

I snatch a dish towel from the kitchen counter and press it to the bottle. “Don’t let it spill.”

Amy ignores the dish towel and quickly takes a long drink straight from the bottle. “Problem solved.”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “You’re not going to feel that later at all.”

“Relax!” She grins, handing me the bottle. “We don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow.”

I raise my brows at that, but accept the champagne.

“Oh. That’s right.” She runs her fingers through her short brown hair. “The interview. Are you nervous?”

My exhale is shaky. “No.”

“You are such a bad liar.”

“I know.” I grimace. “But I still can’t believe they even agreed to interview me. This agency is the best in San Bravado. Just take a look at all their reviews online. And, my God, the prices they charge.” I roll my eyes.

“That just means they pay well. Hopefully.”

Amy opens the fridge and pulls out the sheet cake she picked up on her way home. She gently eases the dessert onto the counter and looks around with a frown.

“Where did I put that, um, what’s-it-called thing?”

“Knife?”

“The special one. For cakes and pies.”

“Dish drainer,” I point.

“Ah.” She pulls it from the drainer and pops the plastic top off the cake. “I should have gotten candles.”

“It’s not my birthday,” I laugh, leaning against the counter and watching her slice the cake.

“No, but it’s the start of a new beginning. You’re twenty-six, okay? You’ve spent your entire adult life thus far in the military.”

“I know.” I gnaw on my bottom lip, wondering for only the millionth time if I’m doing the right thing by coming home.

“So, what were you saying about this babysitting place?”

“Nannying agency.”

“Is there a difference?”

“To some people there is.”

Amy attempts to put a slice of cake on a plate, but it flips over and lands icing side down on the counter. “Shit. This is why we need a dog. So it can eat all the dropped food.”

“I don’t think cake is good for dogs.”

“And it’s good for us?”

“True. I want a corner slice. That one.” I nod at the piece of cake with a blue swirly flower on it. Go big or go home, right?

Amy hands the cake slice over, and I pull two forks from the silverware drawer.

“What I was saying,” I continue, “Is that this is the nicest, most exclusive nanny agency in the area. I didn’t even expect to get an interview. I haven’t babysat since high school.”

“The rest of your resume must have impressed them.” Amy takes a slow bite of cake, taking her time licking all the icing from the fork. “Ex-military isn’t exactly chopped liver.”

I try not to laugh at the term that I would expect to hear from my grandma’s mouth before I heard it from a twenty-eight-year old’s. “Okay, so I can perform CPR.”

“And put anyone who pushes your kid down the slide into a sleeper hold.”

“Ha, got that right.” I grin, taking a sip of champagne. It’s been a while since I’ve had booze, and it makes my head spin slightly.

“You don’t have to work, you know. Come to school with me.” Amy’s eyes light up. “Maybe it’s not too late for you to start next semester. We could take all the same classes.”

She’s kidding…though it is a cute idea.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t want to study business.”

I shrug and stare at the dark window. Amy’s one-bedroom apartment looks out at the back of another building. There’s no elevator, and it constantly smells like oil from the Chinese restaurant next door. It also costs an arm and a leg in rent.

So, all in all, it’s a deal for San Bravado.

My parents offered to have me move back in with them when I left the service a month ago, but I declined. I could also get my own place, I suppose. One on the peripheral of the city, where I can afford to live alone and still eat.

But I don’t want to do that, either. Leaving the army feels like starting all over again. I may be a few years from thirty in body, but at heart, I’m a fresh-faced eighteen-year-old. I want to share a cramped space with my best friend, eat takeout straight from the boxes, sleep in, work a part-time job while I figure out what I want to do next. For me, right now, that’s my idea of heaven.

“School is cool, man,” Amy says around a bite of cake. I’d almost forgotten we were talking about college.

“So is taking care of kids.” Leaving my champagne on the counter, I take my cake to the table and plop down in a chair. One of the benefits of not working is having lots of extra time to spend at the gym. Those treadmills at the twenty-four-hour place down the street have seen a lot of love from me this month.

“I know what you want to do.” Amy smiles knowingly. “You want to be a stay-at-home mom.”

“Kinda hard to do that when I don’t have any kids of my own. Plus, you’re the wife in this relationship, aren’t you?”

She snaps her fingers. “Hello, welcome to this century, Jayne. Husbands can stay home and raise the kids too.”

“I know that,” I start, but then realize we’re arguing about an imaginary circumstance and shut my mouth.

“This is what you need.” Amy sets her cake down and scurries from the kitchen. Twenty seconds later and she’s back, laptop in hand. She takes a seat across from me, grinning wickedly.

“No,” I immediately say.

I’ve known Amy for six years and two months now, and I can read the girl like a book. She makes it pretty easy, on account of never hiding her emotions well. But aside from that, I swear there’s also some kind of intuitive, psychic link between us. She doesn’t even need to open her mouth for me to know what’s going on in that head of hers.

“Don’t you dare sign me up for online dating.”

Amy’s shoulders slump. “You don’t know that I was going to do that.”

“Yeah? What were you going to do?”

“Um…show you some cool…porn?”

“Cool porn. Huh. Right.”

“Jayne,” she groans. “You just said that all you want to do is be with kids. How about we get you a husband as a nice precursor to that?”

I can only shake my head. “Where in those things that I said did you hear ‘I want a husband’?”

“Good friends read between the lines.”

“Too much. They read between the lines too much.”

Amy slowly opens her computer, eyeing me as she does so, waiting for me to tell her to close it. “Let’s just make you a profile so we can look at guys.”

“We can use yours to do that,” I counter.

She scrunches up her face. “I’m taking a break. I was spending too much time on the sites.”

“Really?” I dryly ask. “You don’t say?”

“Ha, ha,” she just as dryly responds. “Have all the laughs you need.” She types away quickly, the screen’s glow illuminating her excited eyes. “We’ll just have one look, okay? That won’t be so bad.”

“Is there a support group for people who are addicted to dating sites? I’ll drive you to meetings if you need it. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

The crazy lady in front of me doesn’t seem to hear my words. Amy’s eyes rake across the computer screen, and she hunches forward, trying to get closer to whatever she’s looking at.

“What about this guy?”

She turns the laptop around, showing me a picture of a smiling guy with dimples. His jaw is chiseled, his teeth white. Blond hair sticks up in that carefully styled way. There’s nothing wrong with him; he’s just not for me, and I know it.

“I want to focus on myself first,” I quietly say.

Amy gets the seriousness in my tone and puts the computer down. “Okay. Say no more.”

My eyes drift down to my cake, and I cut another piece off with the side of my fork but don’t eat it. Suddenly, my appetite is nowhere to be found.

“Oh, hey,” Amy says. “Those nice comforters we looked at the other day are on sale. They’re, like, twenty percent off. Maybe I’ll get one. Or two. You can use one. The one on the pull-out isn’t really big enough.”

“That sounds nice,” I murmur, not thinking about comforters or the pull-out couch that’s my current home. Instead, my thoughts are drifting to men—precisely the place I insisted they’re not at.

Truth be told? I would like a husband, a family. Abso-freaking-lutely. But I’m not going to hold my breath and wait for all of that to come to me. And it’s not like that’s all I want.

I need meaning in my life. Purpose. To feel like I’m doing some good for others. That’s something I have to find before I move on to whatever the next step in life will be.

I’m hoping that a job as a nanny will provide that. Just to wake up every morning and feel confident in what I’m doing. That’s all I’m asking for.

“But a little action wouldn’t hurt,” I sigh, thinking out loud before it’s too late to stop myself.

“Hah!” Amy points an accusing finger at me. “I knew it!”

“Damn,” I mutter.

“You can’t lie, and you have a really bad habit of talking out loud. Thank God you were never taken hostage.”

Chapter 2

Jayne

Pulling my car into Prestige Nanny’s lot, I kill the engine and take a long breath in.

Okay. You can do this, Hayfield. You got it.

Six years in the military, three tours of duty, extensive experience in combat, but an interview at a nanny agency is making my knees shake—and I’m still sitting down.

Flipping the visor, I check my face in the mirror. I went with minimal makeup: just a hint of blush and eyeliner, plus mascara. For my lips, tinted lip balm. Hopefully, the look says, “Hey, I’m super fresh-faced! Hire me!”

At least, in my head that’s what the makeup equates to.

I take some time to smooth down the red fly-away hairs that have come loose from my ponytail and to straighten my blazer. Going with Amy’s suggestion, I paired the blazer and button-up top with a pair of dark, skinny jeans and low heels. Casual meets put-together. That’s what my roommate called it, at least.

Snapping the visor closed, I gaze at the tall building in front of me. It houses multiple businesses, and the spot I’m headed for is on the fourth floor.

“Here goes nothing,” I mutter.

Grabbing my purse, I exit into the sunny day. Technically, it’s late fall, but apparently Mother Nature didn’t get the memo, because the morning couldn’t be more perfect. Hopefully, that’s a good sign.

Whether it is or not, I’ll take it.

“I’m here for a nine o’clock interview,” I tell the girl at the front desk. “Jayne Hayfield.”

“Let me check you in.”

She clicks away on her computer, and I take a moment to look around. A front desk with smooth, lacquered wood. Leather waiting chairs. Multiple vases full of orchids. Magazines that are actually from this month.

“Have a seat and someone will come get you soon.” The receptionist smiles at me. She looks like a model, with high cheekbones and red lips that shine like a candy apple.

“Thanks.” Settling into the chair closest to the windows, I pull out my phone. There’s a text from Amy.

Good luck!!!

The message is followed by about ten emojis, some applicable to the text, and some not. I smile at the alien one and shoot a text back.

Waiting now. Noticed they can afford magazine subscriptions here. That’s how you know a place is high class.

For sure, she writes back. See if they have tampons in the bathroom. Nice places put them out for free. Snatch a few if it goes badly—or even if it goes well.

Her request makes me laugh out loud, and I have to press my palm to my mouth.

I’m still giggling when a frosted door next to the receptionist’s desk opens. “Miss Hayfield?”

I bolt to standing, my laughter dead in a millisecond. “Yes? That’s me.”

The man with slicked-back salt-and-pepper hair and a burgundy suit smiles. “Right this way, please.”

Heart pounding, I follow him down a hallway, past several offices with keyboards clicking and employees speaking softly into phones. For a nanny agency, it seems a lot of people work here. But, then again, what do I really know about the matter?

The man brings me to what looks like a boardroom. There’s an entire wall made out of windows, with a long table in front of them. Bottles of water sit in front of three of the chairs. One for me, the man, and the third person—an austere blond woman who stands to shake my hand as I walk in.

“Miss Hayfield,” the man says. “This is Nicole Mason, our president and founder.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I tell her, afraid she’ll notice the sweat on my palm.

“And I’m Ed Garcia.” He takes a seat, casually crossing one leg over the other. “Please, have a seat.”

I do so, though my limbs and back are rigid. The other two people regard me in a cool, collected way. They’re the perfect picture of careless elegance. I swallow hard. Did I under-dress?

Mason somehow manages to look intimidating in her black dress and pearl necklace. Her eyes sweep over me, studying, collecting information. Nausea spins in my stomach. I resist the urge to look around for a trash can, just in case the worst happens.

That’s not gonna happen, I tell myself. Smile. Breathe. Say something.

I smile widely, though it probably looks fake. “It’s so wonderful to be here. I’ve heard a lot about your agency.”

At least that part’s true. My parents’ neighbors across the street have been using Prestige Nanny for years, and they gushed about it at Mom’s dinner party two weeks ago.

“We’re glad to have you here,” Mason says, resting her clasped hands on the table. Her face is tight and emotionless. Either she’s bored, or she’s had a lot of work done. Hard to tell in San Bravado, I’ve found.

“As I’m sure you know,” she continues, “Prestige is the leading nanny agency in the area. We consistently rank at five stars. Many of our clients are high-profile celebrities and politicians, a great many of whom wish to remain anonymous. If you are hired, you’ll be signing a non-disclosure contract.”

I nod. She’s already continuing.

“At Prestige, we expect the best from our nannies. That means always showing up on time and always looking your best.” She hesitates, the quiet making me flinch.

Oh, no. I did wear the wrong outfit.

Her eyes sweep up and down my torso. “What you have on now is perfect.”

I exhale in relief. I owe Amy a drink for her style sense.

“To summarize,” Mason says, “You won’t find a better job in childcare than you will here. We are a great company to work for long-term. Short-term is all right as well, as long as you are clear and honest with us about your plans for the future.”

“I understand,” I say, just because I feel her speech needs some kind of comment.

Garcia reaches for the folder I didn’t notice before and takes a look inside. “So, you’re a San Bravado native.”

“That’s correct.” I nod.

“Ex-military.”

“Yes, sir.”

He looks at me over the folder. “And your experience in nannying…” He trails off, waiting for me to finish.

My gut twists. I detailed all of my experience on my application. Maybe he just wants to check my story.

“I babysat a lot in high school. Before I went into the service.” Since the floor is mine, I go on. “I’m CPR certified, and I’m also a great swimmer—I’ve gone through multiple training courses in the water.”

“You were a SEAL?” Mason asks. Her mouth twitches. Does she think she’s making a joke?

It’s impossible to tell. Both of my interviewers are hard to read.

“Army,” I answer. “I swam in high school, and my time in the service also provided me with opportunities to stay fit in the pool.”

They exchange a quick look, the meaning behind it unreadable.

“This is an interesting career switch you’re looking to make,” Mason says slowly. “Most of our nannies are in college and work for us part-time. We have a few who are full-time, but none of them have the…extensive background you do. Many of them are pretty, yes, just like you.” She cocks her head. “You certainly don’t look like a former soldier.”

My head reels from the double whammy of inappropriate comments. First of all, is this a nannying agency or a modeling agency? No one told me being attractive was a prerequisite to getting a job here. Also, the whole thing about me not looking like a former soldier—I’ve heard it way too many times.

Not all women who join the service are super butch. We’re real people with diverse preferences and looks.

Thanks for reducing me to a stereotype, I want to say.

Of course, I check myself and smile instead. “I know the switch seems like quite the extreme. The truth is that I love kids, and I’ve always seen myself working with them once I left the military.”

Strangely, now that the people across from me have proved themselves to be biased and inadequate in some ways, I feel braver. I feel like the smarter and more empathetic person in the room.

“And, as I outlined before, I have a lot of experience that can be applied directly to nannying. I’ve seen combat. Because of that, I know how to stay calm in stressful situations. I value cleanliness and organization. Also, I know a good deal about nutrition—I have a lot of experience cooking for the wife back at home.” I grin at that.

Garcia clicks a pen and writes something down in my folder. Mason taps her finger against the table. The silence lasts for way too long.

I feel the heat creep into my face. Did I just put my foot in my mouth without knowing it?

Then, the two of them share another look. There’s a nod from Mason.

Garcia stands and offers me his hand. “Jayne, welcome to Prestige. We’re thrilled to have you.”

My chest nearly explodes from surprise and joy. “I… Th—thank you.”

I stand and shake first his hand, then Mason’s. They leave and come back with paperwork for me to sign and a packet of company policies to take home. The whole time, I can hardly believe it. More than once, I thought for sure I wouldn’t get the job—and now here I am!

“Have a great day,” I tell the receptionist as I breeze past her and into the elevator.

In the parking lot, the weather feels even better. Stripping off my blazer, I drop it on the passenger’s seat and call Amy.

“I got the job!” I say as soon as I hear the line connect.

“What? That’s awesome! I knew you would.”

With a laugh, I buckle my seat belt. “You’re going to have to dress me every day, by the way. This outfit is half the reason they hired me.”

“Nice. One point for me. Maybe I’ll start a blog on how to dress for interviews.”

“That would seriously be a good idea.”

“So, do they have a job for you yet?”

“No,” I answer. “They said they’ll call as soon as they do, and it’ll definitely be this week. I’m down for both semi-permanent jobs and drop-in ones. When is your last class?”

“Two.”

“See you at home? I’m cooking a victory meal.”

“I know you are,” she laughs. “And I’m making the margaritas. It’s time to party.”

Laughing as well, I turn the engine on. “We just partied yesterday.”

“And now it’s time to do it again. Can you stop by the store? Nothing goes better with tequila than guacamole.”

“Sure. See you at home.”

“Bye.”

Dropping the phone next to my blazer, I roll my window down and cruise into traffic, enjoying the feel of the salty sea air on my face. As I drive along, I pull the ponytail holder from my hair and let the copper-colored strands fly free.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but I have a feeling that it’s going to be great.

Chapter 3

Benjamin

My bed shakes, and a high-pitched voiced fills the room. “Daddy, get up!’

Rubbing my eyes, I roll across the king-sized bed. Mia bounces on her knees at the edge, making the whole mattress shake.

“What time is it?” I ask, running a hand through my hair.

“Um.” She stops her bouncing to think about it. “The little hand is on seven. The big hand is halfway…and the really little hand is…is…”

I glance at the clock on my phone. Seven-thirty.

“Good job,” I tell her, hauling myself up to sitting. “Come on. Let’s get you dressed.”

“I did my hair.” She raises her face with a smile, showing off the two pigtails she attempted. Kay will have quite the job of getting those tangles out.

“Looks good, baby,” I tell her, ushering her down the hallway and to her bedroom. “You didn’t go in the closet, did you? You know that’s not safe. There are—”

“I know,” she shrieks. “There are things that can fall on me in there. You told me, Daddy.”

“Just making sure. Here. Put on that dress Kay set out for you and brush your teeth. Don’t forget the leggings. It’s not warm enough to go without them.”

“There’s no school today,” she reminds me. “It’s a teacher-not-work day.”

“A teacher workday,” I correct her with a chuckle.

Leaving Mia to getting dressed, I trudge back down the hall and get myself ready, listening the whole time for the door to open. My nanny has her own key and should be letting herself in any minute.

As I jump in the shower, I do a quick briefing of the day in my head. Meetings all morning. Golf at the country club in the afternoon—though that’s another meeting there. I just like to use my second favorite hobby as an excuse to multitask.

“You ready?” I call down the hall as I quickly towel off.

“Yeah,” Mia shouts back.

Dressed, I glance over the banister. “Hello?” Still no sign of Kay.

“Where’s Kay?” Mia asks from below my elbow. She has several dolls in her arms.

“I don’t know,” I mumble, unlatching the baby gate at the top of the stairs. Mia’s probably old enough that she could figure out how to undo it herself, but I keep it up since it serves as a reminder to her to not go downstairs by herself.

I check my watch as we descend the stairs. Ten to eight. My first meeting is in an hour downtown, and I have a dozen other things I should get done before then.

In the kitchen, I check the fridge. There are dinners for the next two days, courtesy of my chef, Ray, who comes a few days a week and meal preps. As far as breakfast, though, it looks like I’m on my own.

I consider calling Eddie in the guest house, where he permanently lives, and having him come make breakfast for Mia, but I decide against it. My butler is pushing seventy. The man needs to sleep in every once in a while.

“Waffles? Eggs?”

“French toast!” Mia sets her dolls on one of the chairs at the breakfast table nook.

“I don’t have time to make that this morning, honey. Maybe Sunday. You’ll like these waffles and eggs. I’ll cut up some cantaloupe, too.”

I check the clock on the wall. Eight. Kay should be here by now.

A gnawing feeling begins in my stomach. I try my best to ignore it as I scramble eggs and drop frozen waffles in the toaster, but by the time I’m setting breakfast on the table, the sensation has doubled.

In my pocket, my phone beeps.

“Eat your fruit,” I tell Mia. She’s devouring the waffle and ignoring everything else.

“More waffles, Daddy? Pleeeeease?”

“Eat everything on your plate first.” Turning away to brew coffee, I pull my phone out. As I see the email, my hand freezes halfway to the filters.

Shit. Shit, shit.

It’s just as I expected. The email is terse and to the point.

Benjamin,

Having given it some deep thought I have decided it is best if I no longer work for you. I have come to care for you and Mia a lot—too much, I’ve realized. I would have given you everything, if only you’d have let me in.

Luckily, your issues are no longer mine. Consider this my resignation letter. I’ve already told the agency that I can’t work for you any longer. I didn’t tell them exactly why; I just said that there were differences.

I hope that you one day figure out what you want—for Mia’s sake.

Sincerely,

Kay

Screwing my eyes shut, I put the phone back in my pocket. Looks like I fucked up again. No surprise there.

“No, I don’t like fruit,” Mia is saying in a squeaky voice. “You eat it… No, you eat it.”

I look over to see she’s making her dolls fight over the cantaloupe.

“Eat the melon, Mia,” I snap, sounding grumpier than I want to.

She frowns and spears a cantaloupe slice with her fork. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I whirl back around.

Take a deep breath.

I do; it doesn’t help. My temples still pound, and I can’t figure out if I want to punch a wall or crawl back into bed. Either way, as much as I want to be angry with Kay, I know I can’t completely blame what went down on her. It takes two to tango.

What happened between us was supposed to be casual. That’s what I told Kay the first time we hooked up, a month ago. Apparently, I hadn’t been specific enough. I should have outlined the exact terms of our relationship and had us both sign a document. For not the first time, things had been lost in translation between myself and a woman.

Gritting my teeth, I turn back to face Mia.

“How would you like to come to the office with me today?”

Her eyes light up. “Really, Daddy?”

“Uh-huh. It’ll be fun.”

I have a secretary and two assistants working full-time. Between the three of them, they should be able to keep a six year old occupied until the nannying agency can send over a replacement.

This isn’t the first time this has happened. I know the way it’s going to play out by now, but that’s fine. The agency I use knows I have a high turnaround of nannies, but they don’t ask questions. They charge too much for them to do that.

It’s Mia I’m worried about. I have to tell her, yet again, that another nanny won’t be returning.

Sighing, I take the seat next to her. “Hey, Mia. I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.” She’s busy braiding a doll’s hair, not fully listening.

I touch her arm. “Mia. Pay attention, please.”

She stops braiding, though her lips twist. “I am.”

“Kay’s not going to be watching you anymore,” I say quickly, wanting to explain before Mia becomes upset. “She found another job.”

Mia blinks, hurt crossing her face. “But why?”

I rub her shoulder. “She really likes you, honey, but she didn’t plan on being a nanny her whole life.”

“What is she going to do?”

“I—I don’t know.” I purse my lips, hoping she doesn’t ask any more questions. I’ve lied enough as it is.

“But I like her,” Mia protests. Her bottom lip starts quivering.

I sigh. “I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry. Finish your breakfast, okay? We need to get going soon.”

Sullen-faced, she goes back to her untouched eggs and melon. I stand, annoyed with myself.

First Emmy. Then Lauren. Now Kay.

That makes three nannies I’ve gotten involved with—and all in the last two years.

It makes me look like a shitty person, but in my defense, it’s not all my fault. Prestige Nanny keeps sending over the hottest women, and I don’t have time to date. I’m a single parent running my own company. I’m lucky on the days I make it to the gym—and that’s saying a lot, since I have my own gym down the hall from my bedroom.

Maybe I need to try a new agency. The problem with that is that I don’t have time to register with a new agency. I need someone today.

Stepping onto the back patio, I close the door behind me and stare at my phone. I’ll just have to deal with whoever they send over next. It doesn’t matter how hot she is; the dick stays in the pants. For real, this time.

Pulling up the agency’s booking number, I make the call.

“Prestige Nanny. This is Rebecca.”

“Hi, Rebecca.” I cringe as I realize I talk to the agency’s booker way too often. I probably owe her a couple of Christmas cards at this point. “This is Benjamin Glen.”

“Oh. Yes.”

Just from those two words, I can tell she’s been expecting my call. Does everyone at Prestige’s office wonder just what I do to drive my nannies away? Do they assume I’m just mean, and that’s what makes the girls leave? Or do they know the truth?

“We received word of Kay’s resignation,” Rebecca went on. “Would you like us to send someone over today?”

“Um, yes, but I’ll need to interview her before I make a final decision.”

“Of course.”

I look through the glass doors. Mia has abandoned her breakfast and gone into the living room beyond. Remote in hand, she’s turned the TV to the cartoon channel.

“Any specifications for the new nanny?” Rebecca asked.

“No.”

Then, like a bolt of lightning, one hits me. It’s crazy, and I almost don’t want to say it out loud…but this is one of the most high-end nanny agencies in the world. If they can’t fulfill this request, maybe I really should look elsewhere.

“You know what?” I say. “There is one.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Can you send me a girl who’s a lesbian?”

“A…a lesbian, Mr. Glen?”

“That’s what I said.”

She daintily clears her throat. “I’ll see what I can do, sir.”

“Great. I’ll be at my downtown office all day. You can send the right nanny there.”

“Mr. Glen, just to be clear…I am not entirely sure we will be able to locate what you’re looking for.”

My irritation spikes. “Out of all the nannies you have, not one of them is gay?”

“Well, I’m sure they are. It is just that we don’t usually ask such personal questions.”

“This is San Bravado. I’m sure you have just what I’m looking for. All you need to do is start asking the right questions.”

There’s a long pause. “We’ll be in touch soon, Mr. Glen.”

“Wonderful.” I hang up, a sense of pride rising.

So, maybe I do a shitty job of controlling myself around beautiful women, but it looks like I might have just found a way around that problem. With a gay nanny, any advances I feel compelled to make will be pointless. She’ll be completely disinterested in me.

I smirk to myself as I go inside. I knew I’d find a way around this. I’m Benjamin Glen, a year shy of thirty and the billionaire founder of a megalithic software company. I worked myself to the bone through school, started a company from my apartment, then started raising my daughter by myself after her mother made her worst and last mistake.

I know how to get shit done.

This nanny issue? It’s nothing but a tiny hiccup in my perfectly designed life.

Chapter 4

Jayne

“Hello,” Amy calls as she hustles into the apartment and sets her backpack against the wall. “Super nanny,” she adds with a grin.

I roll my eyes. “Not yet.”

“But soon.” She walks into the kitchen and inspects the avocados I’ve just sliced into a bowl. “Nice. Looks good.”

“Here’s hoping. These cost an arm and a leg.”

“For avocados?” She pulls a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge and takes a long swig.

“When you don’t have a job, they do.”

“You have a job.” Amy pokes me in the side.

“I have an agency,” I correct, mashing the avocados with a fork. “The job has yet to come.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all morose on me now.”

“I’m not.” I grin. “The first job is coming. They promised me that. I’m just stating the facts. I don’t have much money.”

“Join the club,” Amy laughs. “Being a student isn’t exactly cheap, even when the army is picking up the bill.”

We both know why we’re so broke. It’s the exorbitant rent. There’s no point in complaining about it, though. We’ve chosen to live here—me because it’s my home, and Amy because she loves the area. For the both of us, being by each other’s side is the best part of it all.

“How were your classes, wifey?” I ask, giving her a wink.

She shrugs. “Just another afternoon of old guys talking while I took notes.”

“You like this spicy, right?” I give her a questioning look as I reach for the cayenne.

“Yes. Please. Burn my taste buds off.” Amy sets the sparkling water down and grabs the unopened bottle of tequila from the top of the fridge. “Is it too early to start drinking? Wait. Don’t answer that.”

I finish making the guacamole as Amy mixes margaritas. The whole time, pop music blares from her phone and we shimmy around.

“We’re going to turn into alcoholics,” I comment, licking salt from my glass’s rim.

“Speak for yourself.” Amy dips a tortilla chip in the guacamole. We haven’t even made it to the table. Instead, we’re sitting on the counter, the snacks and margaritas between us. I take the last sip of my drink, enjoying the woozy feeling.

“So, tell me the truth.” I point an accusatory finger at her. “Did you get back on that dating site after I went to bed last night?”

“Um…no. Why would you think that?” She smiles guiltily. “What made you guess?”

“There were a few clues this morning. Empty hummus container. Kitchen light left on. Your computer wide open on your reactivated profile.”

“Darn.”

“Don’t be ashamed,” I laugh. “Just make me another drink.”

I hand my empty glass to her just as my phone rings from somewhere in the other room.

“Ugh.” I lethargically jump down from the counter. “I don’t want to walk all the way over there.”

“So don’t.”

“It’s probably my mom. She said she’d call today to see how the interview went.” I take a few steps across the living room, swaying a bit. I don’t have much of a booze tolerance, and Amy must have made the margarita stronger than I’m used to.

Behind me, she laughs. “You’re not drunk after one margarita, are you?”

“Can it. You make them strong.”

Picking my phone up from the coffee table, I frown at the unknown number.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Jayne Hayfield?”

“This is her,” I sluggishly say, feeling way too tipsy for this conversation.

“This is Rebecca from Prestige Nannies. First of all, congratulations. We’re very happy to have you on the team.”

“Thank you,” I breathe, hoping, for some reason, that the smell of tequila isn’t detectable over the phone.

From the kitchen, Amy gives me a questioning look.

“Now,” Rebecca goes on, “I’m calling because I have a job opportunity for you.”

“Really?” My heart flutters. “Already?”

A job, I mouth at Amy. Her eyebrows rise, and she gives me a double thumbs-up.

“Yes. Can you be downtown this afternoon?”

“This…this afternoon?” I gulp. “What, um…what time?”

“Preferably within the hour.”

“Um.”

Amy stares at me. My ears ring.

“Hello?” Rebecca asks.

“Yes,” I thickly answer. “I’m here.”

Shit, shit, shit. What am I going to do?

“Can you make it to an interview today? We have a potential job for you, and the client would just like to make sure you’ll be a good fit.”

“Just for an interview?” I ask. “It’s not for actual work?”

“I believe so,” Rebecca slowly answers. “But the client didn’t specify. He just needs someone to come in right away.”

“Okay.” I bite down on my lip. I can do this. I might be one cocktail deep, but it’s just an interview.

“Wonderful. I’ll text you the information now. Please remember to adhere to all the policies outlined in the handbook. Remember, you’re representing us all. Good luck!”

Rebecca hangs up, and my gaze falls to the handbook that I dropped on the coffee table. I just got it this morning. I haven’t even cracked it yet.

“Well?” Amy eagerly asks, hurrying over to me. “You have an interview?”

“Yeah. Now.” My mouth is so dry it’s a miracle I even get the two words out.

“Woohoo!” She raises her hand for a high five, but I just stare dumbly at it. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m in no position to go to an interview right now. I can’t even drive.”

“So get a cab.” Amy’s phone is already out, and she’s typing away. “I’m ordering you one now.”

“Okay.” I nod and swallow. “What am I going to do? What am I going to say? What if I mess everything up? I could blow the interview, and the agency will fire me before I’ve even done a day’s work.”

“Jayne.” Amy places her hands on my shoulders. “Chill. It’s going to be fine. If anything, the buzz you have going on will help you in the interview. You’ll be super relaxed.”

“Uh…yeah, I guess.”

My phone beeps, and I take a look at the text from Rebecca: an address, a building, and a name.

“Benjamin Glen,” I slowly say. “That sounds familiar.”

“Benjamin Glen,” Amy repeats. “Are you serious?”

I reread the text. “Yeah. GlenTech. That’s where the interview is.”

“Holy shit,” Amy breathes. “Jayne, you’re interviewing with the CEO of one of the biggest software companies in the country. No, the world.”

Cue the sweating palms and uneven breathing. “What? No. I can’t be.”

“This agency isn’t screwing around. They really do have the most exclusive clients. Did you know that Benjamin Glen created VetLink?”

“That’s that…that…” I shake my head, looking for words. The room spins, and it’s no longer just because of the alcohol.

“The social media site for veterans. Wow. This is so cool. Hey, maybe he wants to interview you because you’re ex-military.”

“Uh. I don’t know.” I search for my purse. “Maybe. Where’s my coat?”

“It’s pretty warm out.”

“I need some kind of jacket,” I insist. “In case it gets colder.”

“Right there.” She points at my jacket, tossed over the back of the couch.

I slip the jacket on. “How do I look?”

“Hold on.” Amy steps forward and smooths some hair behind my hair. “Great.” She glances down at her phone. “Your car is here.”

My heartbeat must double. Is this happening? Am I really about to go interview with one of the richest men in the world while spinning from tequila?

“I have to go,” I stumble, tripping over both my words and feet.

“Jayne.”

“Huh?” At the door, I spin around.

Amy pointed looks down. I follow her gaze and see I’m wearing house slippers. Though I kept on the morning’s outfit, I switched from heels to the most comfy footwear I own the second I got home.

“Right.” Kicking off the slippers, I pull on my heels and pray they don’t send me tumbling in the street—or worse, tumbling in the middle of Mr. Glen’s office. “Wish me luck.”

“Hold on!” Amy darts into the kitchen and returns a moment later with a bottle of water. “You should chug this.”

“You said being tipsy will help!”

She grimaces. “Good luck.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, knowing I’ll be needing it.

Chapter 5

Jayne

The foyer of GlenTech takes my breath away. Literally. It’s lavish and comfortable at the same time. There are plush, oversized chairs next to marble-detailed walls. A coffee bar that can give any pretentious, artisan one a run for its money. I try not to stare as I make my way to the front desk and announce my arrival.

Strange as it feels to be having two interviews in one day, it’s even stranger to be meeting with such a high-level client.

At least my buzz has worn off. Somewhat. I drained the water bottle in the cab on my way over, and now my erratic pulse is probably more due to nerves than anything else.

The receptionist sends me to the top floor, where a second receptionist takes me down a hallway and into a closed-off waiting room. The entire building feels like a labyrinth. There must be thousands of people working here, and from the looks of it, their king sits high above them all.

Here comes the nausea again.

“Would you like an espresso while you wait?” the receptionist asks. “Or a water? Cognac?”

“Um, no thank you. I’m fine.”

Cognac? Damn, fancy.

The cellphone in her hand buzzes, and she takes a look. “Oh. Mr. Glen is ready for you now. Right this way, please.”

She takes me further down the hallway, through another set of doors, and past a woman behind a desk who gives us the go-ahead. My guide raps on a door, and a male voice tells us to enter.

“Go right ahead.” She opens the door for me, and I step forward. I’m on my own from here.

The room I find myself in is so bright that all I can do is blink for a moment. When my eyes adjust, I see a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, a seating area composed of a leather couch and chairs, a giant fish tank next to a just-as-giant desk…and a man.

He’s walking towards me, his hand outstretched. “Jayne Hayfield?”

The words don’t come. This is Benjamin Glen? He can’t be more than a few years older than me. Not only that, the man standing here looks like he just walked out of the pages of a magazine. Guys with this kind of bone structure sell cologne and watches; they don’t run multi-billion dollar companies.

“I’m Benjamin Glen.” He shakes my hand, and his eyes briefly sweep down my form before they snap back up to my face. He smiles, a slight flush entering his cheeks.

Likely, he’s embarrassed to be caught checking me out. Which is strange, because I wouldn’t think a man in his position would have very many qualms.

“It’s nice to meet you.” I have to force the words from my lips, but at least they happen.

“Have a seat.” He gestures to the sitting area, waiting for me to go first.

As I take each careful step, I can feel his gaze on my back. It makes a delicious shiver go up my neck as my stomach knots in anxiety. I thought the tequila was going to make it hard to focus on this interview, but now I’ve been presented with a whole new problem. How am I supposed to keep it together with a man this hot staring me down?

I perch on one of the chairs, carefully crossing my ankles and resting my hands on my knees. One second at a time. One question at a time. I just need to focus on what’s happening at each moment; that way, I’ll make it through this.

Benjamin settles on the couch across from me, on the other side of a coffee table, and I take a brief moment to finish checking him out. Dark, wavy hair, dark eyes, a button-up shirt with rolled up sleeves and dark slacks. I can’t stop my eyes from lingering on the muscles peeking through the thin fabric.

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” I say, realizing that if I don’t say something soon I’ll be in serious trouble of coming across as an idiot. “I only just signed with the agency this morning.”

A smile flickers on his lips, but it doesn’t last long. He’s clearing his throat, all business. “I think you’re just what I’m looking for.”

I nod, though what he’s “looking for” is still unclear. Does he mean that I fit the bill because I’m ex-military? There’s probably nothing else that’s particularly unique on my resume, so I have to assume it’s that.

“How many children do you have?” I ask. Before I can stop my eyes, they flit down to his hand.

No wedding ring.

Now, it’s my turn to check my disobedient gaze.

“One,” he answers. “She’s six and in first grade. It’s a teacher workday today, so she’s with one of my assistants right now.”

“That’s a great age.”

“Mm-hmm.” He looks at the door briefly before glancing my way even more quickly. It’s like he can’t get his eyes to stay in one spot.

Did I do something wrong? My stomach sinks, but I keep the smile on my face.

“I’m looking for a nanny who provides more than just childcare,” Benjamin says. “My hours can be unpredictable, and I often work late. Mia will need homework help and her dinners made. Also, I need someone who has a clear schedule. The earlier you can come in in the mornings, the better. Saturdays are usually a requirement. Sundays are off, unless I need her watched for some reason. If you ever need time off, the agency can make sure there is someone to cover your days away.”

I nod through all of this. I have no problem working six or more days a week, as long as…

“I know the expectations are high,” Benjamin continues, “but I pay very well for them. Much more than industry standard.”

They’re just the words I was looking for.

“I’m used to working long hours,” I answer. “The military prepared me for that a long time ago.”

“You were in the military?” He cocks his head.

“Yes, I—” I start to point out that my background is in my resume, but check my tongue.

“My father was in the army.”

“Is that why you started VetLink?”

“Yeah. It is.” A wide, genuine smile appears on his face, showing off perfectly white and straight teeth. “When did you leave?”

“This fall. I was in for six years.”

Benjamin nods, a faraway look in his eyes. “I worked on VetLink for years. My father is my hero, and I wanted to do something that would help him connect with others who have served.”

“That’s really sweet.”

Suddenly, he blinks, the haziness disappearing from his eyes. “They didn’t tell me you were a veteran.”

Now, I’m even more confused. Isn’t my military experience what he was talking about before when he said I’m just what he’s looking for?

“And you’re from…”

“San Bravado.”

“Ah.” Benjamin studies me, and butterflies flutter in my stomach. I wonder if he was ever married. If so, how long has he been divorced for? Maybe he has a partner, and they just don’t wear rings.

I shouldn’t be thinking like this. I already told Amy that I’m not looking for a man right now. I need to get everything else in order. Plus, this guy is—if all goes well—about to be my boss. Lusting after the person I work for probably won’t lead anywhere good.

“Mia has had a number of nannies in the last year.” He pauses. “I’m looking for someone who can provide some stability for her.”

“Understood.” I nod. “I don’t have any conflicting plans for the future. I’m not going back into the army, and what I really want to do right now is take care of kids. It’s my passion.”

It’s a simple explanation, but hopefully, it’ll suffice.

“Great. In that case, I would love to offer you the job. If you’ll just sign this…” He reaches under the coffee table and pulls something from the lower shelf there. It’s a sheet of paper, which he slides over to me. “It’s a typical confidentiality agreement. I take great pains to make sure pictures of my daughter don’t get into the media. That goes for her whereabouts, as well. No one knows where she goes to school, and I want it to stay that way.”

I take a quick look over the agreement. It looks a lot like the one I already signed for Prestige.

“I’ll never reveal anything that could compromise her safety,” I promise, looking into his eyes to show him I mean it.

His brown eyes soften, and he nods.

Using the pen he offers, I sign on the dotted line and push the agreement back across the coffee table.

“I’ll need you at work at seven thirty tomorrow morning,” Benjamin says, slipping the pen behind his ear. Something about the move is so sexy, and for a moment, I’m close to coming undone again. I squeeze my hands tight and try to ignore the warmth pooling between my thighs.

“Seven thirty is just fine,” I respond.

“I thought so.” He smirks. “Military discipline and all. It’s impressive.”

“Surely you have it as well,” I say without thinking. “You’re, what? Maybe thirty, and you’ve built a giant software company? I’m guessing you inherited some of your dad’s self-discipline.”

Benjamin’s lips part, and his eyes squint slightly, as if he’s trying to see through a fog. My skin turns hot. Why did I bring up something so personal? Maybe I’m more buzzed than I thought I was.

When Benjamin finally answers, his words are slow. Well thought out. “I’ll be lucky if I ever become half the man my father was.”

There’s so much reverence in his voice that my chest swells with emotion. I don’t know how to answer, but it’s no longer because I’m afraid to say the wrong thing. Instead, I’m worried that if I open my mouth I won’t be able to stop talking.

Benjamin checks his wristwatch. “I need to be getting back to work, but I’m glad to have met you.”

Just like that, the tender moment is over.

“I should be getting home, too,” I say as I stand. It’s not exactly true. The only things waiting for me at home are my roommate and an evening of stressing over my upcoming first day of nannying.

“Have to get back to the wife, huh?”

“Um.” I bite the inside of my lip, confused. What is he talking about? Could he know that I call Amy that?

I’m not in a position to ask too many questions, so I just nod.

“Right. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Glen.”

“You can call me Benjamin,” he offers. There’s a new silkiness in his voice, and it makes me inhale a little too sharply.

“In that case, call me Jayne.” I laugh, but it turns into an awkward throat clearing. We both know he already planned on addressing me by my first name. I’m the dang nanny, not his boss.

Benjamin’s lips part, but he pauses. I stay frozen, waiting. Something invigorating is filling the air between us, but I don’t yet know what it is.

“Have a good evening, Jayne,” he says.

Benjamin turns and walks for his desk, and I’m left to see myself out.

On the bottom floor, I slip into the bathroom to take a look in the mirror. Flushed cheeks. Dilated pupils. If my new boss didn’t notice how attracted I am to him, he’s willingly blind.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I’m here to work, not to man hunt. There are plenty of guys in San Bravado. I’ve never pursued a relationship with a boss, but I know how that kind of thing tends to play out.

Benjamin Glen is off limits. No matter what.

Chapter 6

Benjamin

“Who’s got your balls in a vise-grip?” Matt asks.

I glower at him. “Want to say that a little louder?”

He laughs and glances around the small, dimly-lit bar. Nobody has heard him. Or, if they did, they don’t care. The turn-out at our usual spot is small, just like it always is. Few customers pass over Eclipse’s threshold each night, thanks to their strict entry policy. I like it that way.

I may be a bit of a tech nerd, but in San Bravado, that means something. Hardly a day goes by where someone doesn’t recognize me. Being able to come to at least one bar and kick back with nothing more than a few curious glances soothes me. Eclipse’s patrons are either too rich to care about who I am, or they know they’d be kicked out if they started a scene.

“You’ve been scowling into your drink since you got here,” Matt explains. “Want to tell me what’s up? Did your meeting not go well?”

“It was fine.” I don’t feel like explaining further. The last-minute meeting was not what I needed today, but I was able to get Dana, one of my assistants, to take Mia home.

Like me, Matt also finds reprieve in this tiny bar. He may not be well-known, but he has a lot of Daddy’s money to blow, and he’s occasionally running from people who want nothing more than to milk him dry.

I sigh and swirl the whiskey around my tumbler. “Kay quit this morning.”

“No surprise there.”

I purse my lips. “Well, I’ve already replaced her, and this one isn’t going to cause any trouble.”

Matt guffaws, his eyes getting wide. “You think the girls are the problem? Maybe you should try not seducing them.”

That makes me bristle. “It’s hard. I don’t have time to date.”

“You’re sitting here with me, having a night cap. If I were a chick, this would be a date. So don’t tell me you don’t have time. Maybe you’re just afraid.”

I fucking hate how right he is.

Luckily, Matt’s not heartless. He knows where to stop.

“So, what about this new nanny?” he goes on. “What’s different about her?”

“She’s a lesbian,” I simply say, unable to stop my grin. “According to the agency, she has a partner at home. There’s no way anything will happen between us.”

“Oh, God,” Matt groans. “This nanny agency actually has their employees’ sexual preferences on the books? You realize how fucked up that is, right?”

“Extraordinarily.” I take a sip of whiskey, enjoying its smooth burn. “But that’s not my problem. I asked if they could provide a gay nanny, and they stepped up to the plate.”

Matt looks uncomfortable, but he shrugs. “All right. So, you hired a butch lesbian that you’ll never be able to get a boner around. I guess that’s one way to plan for success.”

The thought of Jayne makes my blood heat up. She’s anything but butch. In fact, Jayne is the type I didn’t even know I had. With that wavy, red hair, big, blue eyes, tight body, and legs for days…well, I’ve been thinking of her since she left my office four hours ago.

“She’s not butch,” I say, staring at the liquor shelves. “She’s super-hot.”

Matt groans. “Of course she is. All of your nannies are.”

“I don’t pick them that way. That’s how the agency sends them.”

Matt snickers. “Okay. Fine.”

“She’s…” I exhale and look into my drink. I’m only halfway done, but I need to get home. If traffic isn’t too bad, I should be able to make it in time to wish Mia goodnight.

“Never mind,” I say, standing and clapping Matt on the shoulder. “Have a good night, man.”

“You, too. Don’t rub too much skin off tonight.”

In retaliation, I give him a hard pinch on the shoulder as I pass him by.

Traffic is smooth, which means slipping into daydreams about Jayne is way too easy. By the time I pull into the garage, the hard-on I feared is throbbing in my pants.

“Great,” I mutter. “Think sad thoughts. Sad thoughts.”

Seeing Dana helps—she’s nearing sixty, and it definitely shows. I thank her and slip upstairs, all thoughts of Jayne now discarded.

Mia’s nightlight shines through her cracked door. I gently push it open, in case she’s asleep. The second she hears me, though, she rolls over and sits up, the stuffed bunny she’s had since she was a baby in her arms.

“Daddy?”

“Hey,” I say quietly. “You’re not asleep? Didn’t Dana read you your stories?”

“Uh-huh. Four.”

“Four? Wow. That’s a lot.”

I take a seat on the edge of her bed and smooth her hair. It has every color of blond in it, from the platinum streaks in the front to the caramel ones in the back. There’s a frown pulling on her lips, and she’s nibbling on the bottom one in that way that shows she’s worried.

“Why isn’t Kay coming back?”

My heart constricts. “I told you, honey. Kay wasn’t going to be a nanny forever. She has other plans.”

“But she didn’t say goodbye to me.”

The pain in my chest increases, and I know it’s my own damn fault. I should have learned from the girl before Kay. Or the one before her. Don’t fuck the nanny. It’s never going to end well.

“It’s not because she didn’t want to say goodbye,” I insist. “She just got a call about a job that she couldn’t turn down. Sometimes adults have to go to jobs right away, and there just isn’t time to say goodbye.”

An idea hits me, and maybe it’s wrong, but I don’t care. I can’t stand seeing Mia in pain.

“You know what I just remembered?” I ask, pretending to get excited.

Her eyes light up and she squeezes her stuffed bunny tighter. “What?”

“Kay sent you an email.”

“She did?” Mia gasps in surprise and anticipation.

“Yeah. Should I read it to you?”

“Uh-huh!” She bounces in bed, and I pretend to read from my phone.

“Dear Mia, I am sorry that I had to go without saying goodbye. It’s not what I wanted to do at all, and I already miss you very much. I heard you are getting a new nanny and that your dad might take you to the arcade this weekend.”

“What?” Mia interrupts.

I wink. “How about that?”

“Are you taking me to the arcade?”

“Yep. Me and you, kid. And maybe the new nanny, too.”

“I want it to be just me and you. You work too much.”

Ouch. As if I don’t already doubt myself enough when it comes to parenting.

“Is there more?” she asks.

“Lay down, and I’ll read the rest to you.”

She scoots under the blanket, and I pull it up to her chin.

“Let’s see…it says, be a good girl and take good care of your dolls. Love, Kay.”

My throat burns as I put my phone away. My daughter is only six, but I still can’t look at her. Lying to get ahead in business is one thing. Lying to your kid because you fucked the nanny and messed everything up?

Not good. Or easy to do.

“She sounds happy,” Mia murmurs. She blinks heavily, which shows how tired she really is.

“She does,” I agree, rubbing my thumb against her chubby cheek.

“Daddy?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“Is a nanny the same thing as a mommy?”

“Um, no. Why do you ask?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I just…I want a mommy. A second mommy. Kaitlyn and Rosie have them.”

I have to force myself to not sigh.

Truth is, I want a mother for her as well. I just haven’t done a very good job of finding her one. Not only is there not much time to date, but the women I do meet are never right for me.

Which is why I end up sinking my teeth into whatever is in front of me. But I never saw Kay in the long-term way. I never see any women that way, truthfully.

I’m still thinking of how to reply to Mia when she rolls over and looks at the picture frame on her bedside. “Goodnight, Mama.”

It’s like there’s a vise-grip on my throat. I don’t want to look at the picture of Hayden, but I can’t seem to stop my eyes.

Mia looks so much like her…so damn much.

The picture sitting on the little bedside table is one I took at the beach when Mia was about eight months old. It was her first trip to the shore, and in the shot, she’s sitting in Hayden’s arms, laughing. Her mom smiles as well, looking just as beautiful as she did in the pages of any magazine.

Looking at the beauty in that picture, you’d never be able to guess at all the darkness lying behind the scenes.

“Maybe you’ll have a second mommy one day,” I quietly say.

Mia doesn’t answer.

I touch her shoulder and find it slowly moving up and down. She’s fast asleep, the stuffed bunny in her arms. Her lips part slightly, and when I hold my own breath, I hear her exhales filling the room.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” I whisper, tucking the blankets around her sides before tiptoeing out.

Chapter 7

Jayne

Forget Benjamin Glen’s house. His front gate alone is freakin’ massive.

I sit in my idling car at the wrought-iron gate, waiting for it to open. I’ve already announced myself to whoever it was that answered the intercom, and now I’m studying the brick wall and trees beyond it. Though I’m trying as hard as I can, I can’t see anything beyond the foliage.

The gate smoothly opens, and I put my car into drive, taking it up the hill and around a couple bends. This driveway is more like its own road.

As the trees thin out and the house comes into view, I gasp out loud.

“Holy shit,” I breathe.

The house is two floors, but that’s the only modest thing about it. It’s white, with countless windows and a giant front porch. The perfectly-manicured front yard is massive, and there’s a big garage with what looks like an apartment of some sort over it.

There’s so much space in the driveway that I’m actually unsure of where to park. I settle with edging the car in close to the fountain the driveway curves around, and do a makeup check before getting out of the car.

I usually don’t make a habit out of wearing makeup, but I’ve been having some fun with it lately—plus, I want to look good for my first day at my new job.

Right, because you want to impress a six-year-old and not her hot dad.

“Shut up, inner monologue,” I mutter as I get out of the car.

Benjamin Glen is off limits. I’ve repeated that fact to myself a hundred times since yesterday, but it seems it still hasn’t sunk into my psyche.

Trying not to fidget from anxiety, I ring the front doorbell.

Within the space of thirty seconds, the door flies open. Instead of Benjamin standing there, like I expected, it’s an older man. His father, perhaps? The person who answered the intercom?

“Hello.” I smile.

He smiles back and extends his hand. “How are you doing?”

“Well, thank you.” I shake heartily. “I’m Jayne.”

“Eddie. I’m the butler here. Please, come inside.”

I blink, unable to move.

The butler? Do people actually still have those? What does he do, exactly? Answer the door all day long?

“Jayne?”

He’s standing there, holding the door.

“Sorry.” I smile again. “It’s early. I’m still a little out of it.”

He just keeps smiling. I’m compelled to ask him if his cheeks hurt yet.

Inside, a staircase leads to a second landing. The foyer gives way to a hallway that extends to the back of the house, and several doors lead to rooms on both sides. The largest doorway, to the right, goes into some kind of living room.

Living room? Sitting room? Den? Lounge? Parlor…?

The only thing I know for sure is that this place is a mansion, and at least ten of Amy’s apartments could fit in here.

“Here is the coat closet,” Eddie explains, opening up a double-door closet. “There is a bathroom just down the hallway. Bedrooms and the playroom are upstairs.”

I nod, unable to stop my mind from drifting as he goes on, continuing to list the rooms in the massive home. What does Benjamin do with a house this big? Does he have parties?

I imagine the kinds of friends he likely has. Wealthy ones. Hot ones. All of them equally-suave versions of himself. And the girlfriends…

“Everything you need for a swim is in the pool room,” Eddie is saying. “Including towels and Mia’s floaties.”

“It’s a little cold for a swim, though, isn’t it?” I laugh.

“The inside pool,” he corrects himself. “We open the outside one in May.”

Oh. Yes. Of Course.

Heavy footsteps sound behind me, and my heart does a flip. Benjamin?

I turn around to greet him, but instead find myself face to face with yet another male staff member. This one is carrying a couple of cloth tote bags.

“Ray,” Eddie says, “This is Jayne, the new nanny. Jayne, Ray is the chef here.”

“Nice to meet you,” I tell him.

Ray gives me a once-over. He’s maybe than ten years older than me, and heavy-set.

“Good luck,” is all he says before leaving through the front door.

I frown after him. “Good luck?” I dully repeat.

What was that supposed to mean?

I turn to Eddie. “He said ‘good luck’ like I’m going to need it.”

Eddie averts his eyes. “Benjamin and Mia are waiting for you in the kitchen.”

Hmm. Okay.

Why do I feel like I just walked into a gothic romance novel? Like at any moment, ghosts are going to creep out of the walls?

Having no other choice, I follow Eddie through the massive living room—which has a fireplace large enough for me to stand in—and into an equally enormous kitchen. Long, marble island. Shiny, new appliances. Shelves upon shelves stacked with utensils and cooking accouterments.

For all intents and purposes, it looks like a regular kitchen—a regular kitchen fit for royalty.

At the far end of it, at a breakfast table, sit Benjamin and his daughter. The little girl has already clocked me, and she watches me with a wary eye, her spoon held suspended above her cereal bowl.

“Hello,” I say, focusing all of my attention on her. If I look at Benjamin, I might lose it. I only got one quick glance at him, but I didn’t miss the damp quality of his hair or his freshly-shaved, perfect jaw.

Don’t think of him in the shower. Don’t think of him in the shower.

I take a few steps in their direction, and Benjamin stands.

“Mia, this is your new nanny, Jayne. Say hello.”

Mia’s lips twist, and she quickly looks away. She seems more shy than anything else.

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I feel nervous when I meet new people, too.”

I can feel Benjamin’s eyes on me, but it’s not until I look over at him that I catch the intensity in his gaze. Noticing me looking back, he clears his throat and turns away.

Was he staring at me?

“Well,” Benjamin says. “It’s Saturday, so no school today.”

“My favorite day,” I chime in.

“I do have to work, though.” He ruffles Mia’s hair, and I nod. Somebody has to pay for this labyrinth of luxury we’re standing in the middle of.

Benjamin turns to me. “Eddie is around all day. He lives in the guest house out back, so if you need anything, just let him know.”

I nod. “All right.”

“Other than that…” He looks around, as if searching for something in the kitchen. I can’t help but feel he’s avoiding my gaze due to being caught eyeballing me. “Have fun. I’ll be back sometime mid-afternoon. Numbers are on the fridge. Ray made lunch. It’s on the shelf in there.”

“Great, thanks.”

Benjamin kisses Mia’s head. “Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you,” she repeats, in a much higher voice.

Benjamin gives me the quickest smile and nod in all of human history before he’s gone. He’s definitely uncomfortable around me…but I can’t figure out why.

Unless it’s because the attraction is mutual.

I clap my hands together. It doesn’t matter. No daydreaming about the boss. I promised myself that.

“What would you like to do today?” I ask Mia.

She shrugs. “I dunno.”

I take a seat next to her. “What do you usually do on Saturdays?”

She sighs dramatically. “Kay takes me to the park.”

“Who is Kay?”

“My old nanny. And Lauren was my nanny before her. And Emmy was my nanny before her.”

“Oh.” My stomach twists. Mia is only six. How many nannies can someone that young have gone through?

And why has she had so many?

Ray’s “good luck” suddenly makes a lot of sense.

I push the worrisome thoughts to the side. It doesn’t matter that the nannies before me didn’t last. I’m going to rock this job and show both Benjamin and the agency that I’m the best nanny ever. Plus, I’m going to have a whole lot of fun with Mia while I’m at it.

“Hey.” I clasp my hands and put them on the table. “Do you like plays?”

“I dunno,” she mumbles.

“Do you like ballet?”

“I dunno.”

I catch my bottom lip between my teeth, thinking some more.

“Okay. What about making forts?”

She grunts in a way that tells me that’s a negative.

“Sock puppets?”

“No.”

“Biking?”

“No.”

“Staring at the wall?”

Mia’s nose wrinkles. “What?”

“I knew it. I could tell when I first saw you. You’re the kind of kid who just loves to stare at the wall all day.”

“No, I don’t,” she giggles. “No one likes that.”

“Have you ever done it?”

“No,” she carefully answers.

“Then you wouldn’t know, would you?”

She laughs harder. “Yes, I do know. And I’ll show you!”

“Hold on there, little lady. First of all, we’re going to need a completely blank wall. No way do you have one of those.”

“Yes, I do!” Grabbing my hand, Mia pulls me away from the table.

As I let her whisk me through the living room, I press my lips together so I won’t smile too big and ruin the game. Taking me upstairs, she stops in the hallway.

“Here.” Mia proudly points at a blank space on the wall that’s about four feet long, pictures on either side of it.

“Hmm.” I pretend to inspect it. “This could do… This could really do.”

“You’re silly.”

“Thank you.” I flutter my eyelashes and fold my hands under my chin.

“I hope you stay.” Mia frowns.

“I plan on doing just that.”

“But everyone else leaves.”

The comment is so mournful, I want to reach out and pull her into a hug. I hold back, though. We’ve only just met.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Ask Daddy.” Mia turns away. “Let’s go. My dolls are waiting.”

“Ask Daddy?” I mouth as I follow her to her bedroom.

I’m not sure what that comment is supposed to mean—it’s a pretty precocious one for a six-year-old. One thing is certain, though: I don’t think my time in this household will be boring in the least.

Chapter 8

Benjamin

I grip the steering wheel tighter and lean forward in my seat, trees flying by the window. A woman walking a dog gives me a sour look, making me look down at my speed.

Shit. Way too fast for a residential area.

Lightening my foot on the pedal, I force myself to relax against the leather seat. How long was I speeding for?

I can’t say, exactly, but probably since I got into the car. All day long, I’ve been looking forward to getting home. I can’t kid myself when it comes to why.

I want to see Jayne.

Just to look at her—not to touch. Putting anything other than my gaze on her is strictly forbidden, and I won’t forget that.

It seems five minutes couldn’t go by today without my thoughts jumping to her. Every time I had a spare moment to myself or experienced a lull in a conversation, my brain went right back to that thick, red hair and bright, blue eyes.

And that ass…holy shit. I’d only been able to get a quick peek at her backside, but I didn’t need to spend all day staring at it to know the girl was extremely well-toned.

Sighing, I enter my code into the gate and pull up the driveway.

Good thing she’s a lesbian, I think grimly as I park in the garage.

Not that that knowledge does anything to stop my wicked fantasies. If anything, it only makes them worse, because now I’m wondering if Jayne’s wife is as hot as her.

I open the door leading from the garage and into the hallway. Eddie is already there, ready to take my briefcase and put it in my home office.

“Hi Eddie. Where are Mia and Jayne?” I ask.

“The dining room, sir.”

“Right.” My mouth goes dry, and I lick my lips.

Without another look in Eddie’s direction, I walk through the kitchen, across the hall, and into the long dining room. It’s a massive one, meant for entertaining more than anything else, and I usually only use it when guests are over.

Mia and Jayne sit at the end of the table, construction paper and various art supplies spread out in front of them. Jayne looks up as I enter, and my skin instantly grows hotter.

She’s redone her hair since I left, and now it’s in a messy bun on top of her head. Little wavy strands falls around her eyes and chin, perfectly framing her face. For a moment, I forget to breathe.

“Hi,” she says, pulling me back to reality. “How was your day?”

“Daddy, look,” Mia says before I can answer. She holds up a tiny snowman made from cotton balls and swabs.

“That’s so cute, honey,” I tell her.

“It’s my homework.”

“On Saturday?”

“For the winter wonderland project they’re doing,” Jayne explains.

“Oh. Right.”

I must look confused, because she continues, “I read about it in her weekend folder.”

I ruffle Mia’s hair. I’d forgotten all about that school project—probably because Kay usually did all of the homework help.

“Is there more to do?” I ask. “Because I can help you, Mia, after Jayne goes home.”

“No,” Mia sings out at the same time Jayne says, “We’re all done.”

“Oh. Okay.” I stand there, suddenly feeling a little like I missed out on something great. “Was it fun?”

“Yeah,” Mia answers. “We had so much fun today. We stared at the wall and everything.”

“Stared at the wall?” I repeat, looking to Jayne for explanation.

She laughs and presses her fingers to her full, pink lips.

“Tell Jayne goodbye, Mia,” I instruct.

“Okay. Can I have my TV time?”

“Has she…” I look at Jayne, finding myself instantly distracted by her beauty yet again.

“We’ve had no screen time today,” Jayne replies, getting busy putting the art supplies back into their boxes. “Here, Mia, put the snowman in your backpack right now, honey. That way you won’t forget it on Monday.”

“Okay.” She takes the tiny snowman and wraps her arm around Jayne’s neck, giving her a big hug. “I don’t want you to go.”

Jayne laughs and hugs her back. “I’ll see you in two days. Tomorrow is Sunday, so you get to have some fun time with your dad.”

“Okay,” Mia replies in a cheerful tune before taking her snowman and leaving the dining room.

I try to find my words as Jayne finishes packing up the art supplies and stands.

“She likes you,” I finally say.

“I like her.” She smiles, and from the way her eyes sparkle, I can tell she means it.

“That’s great.” I stick my hands into my pants pockets. This is about the time where I should show her out, but I don’t want to do that. Not quite yet.

“And you’re liking it here?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah.” A few strands of hair fall from her bun to perfectly curl against her neck. I gulp.

“Anything nice planned for your day off with the wife?”

Jayne’s hands, in the middle of stacking the boxes, still. “Sorry?”

“You live with your wife, right?” I ask a little louder. I must have mumbled the first time.

Her auburn brows push together. “Oh, no. I don’t have a wife.”

“Partner. Sorry.”

Jayne tilts her head, looking at me like I’m crazy. Heat pushes its way up my neck.

“Girlfriend?” I try again.

Her lips curve into a smile. “I’m straight…and single.” Her eyes quickly fall, like she’s confessed something personal.

I stare at her. “Wait. What?”

“I’m single and straight?” she repeats like it’s a question.

I blink. “I thought you were…” The words die in my throat as I realize how stupid what I was about to say is.

“Thought I was what?”

“Um.” I clear my throat and look down. Shit. How am I going to get out of this one?

“You thought I was gay?” She laughs, the sound light and as melodic as a bell. “Why would you think that? Because I was in the army?”

I look up and see the irritation on her face.

“No,” I quickly answer. I take a couple fast steps around the table, ending up only arm’s length away from her.

Jayne’s gaze floats down my frame. I’ve made her uncomfortable, and she probably doesn’t know what to think of me, now.

“I know not all women who enter the military are gay, obviously,” I stress, aware that I’m blabbering. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand. Why would you…”

I open my mouth, about to concoct a lie about the agency’s booker hinting that Jayne was gay, but then I realize how pathetic that is. No better time than the present to man up and own your mistakes.

“I asked the agency to send me a lesbian nanny if they had one.”

Jayne’s mouth is open in a little circle, her face painted in confusion. “Um…okay.”

“Just because…well…”

Fuck.

An uncomfortable silence fills the air, and Jayne’s gaze shifts toward the door. Maybe she’s wondering how long it will take to escape this madhouse.

Lying is still a possibility, but I can’t do it. I just can’t. There’s something about Jayne. Maybe it’s that she’s ex-military and I respect that so much, or maybe it’s because she’s good with Mia. Whatever the reason, I can’t bring myself to pull the wool over her eyes. She seems bright enough that she’d see past any attempt to do so, anyway.

“I don’t have the best track record with my nannies,” I confess.

Jayne slowly nods. “I got that impression already.”

“You did?”

“The clues aren’t hard to pick up on.”

I exhale heavily. “Right.”

“Look, Mr. Glen.”

“Benjamin.”

She hesitates. “Benjamin…why your previous nannies didn’t work out is none of my business. I’m here to do a job, not to delve into your personal life.”

I clamp my jaw shut and look down. This situation has abruptly become extraordinarily complicated.

The big question is, how do I now deal with it?

I wanted a gay nanny—I fucking need a gay nanny. How am I supposed to stay away from a woman as hot as Jayne? A single, straight woman as hot as Jayne?

I have to fire her, tell her it’s not working out. That’s the only answer.

And yet…what about Mia? I told her this new nanny would be sticking around. She and Jayne obviously get along.

I can’t hurt my little girl. Not again.

It’s time for me to exert some self-control and learn to keep my dick in my pants, no matter how—pardon the pun—hard it may be.

“I’m glad to hear that.” I finally look back at Jayne. She’s watching me with a flat expression, waiting for more. “And I’d like to be honest with you. Let’s go ahead and clear the air from the very beginning.”

She nods slightly. “That sounds nice.”

I clear my throat. “I don’t have a lot of time to get out and date, so in the past, I have ended up…seeing…certain nannies.” Christ. It sounds even worse when I say it out loud. “I wanted to avoid that happening again, and that’s why I asked the agency to send me a nanny who happens to be a lesbian.”

I wait for the freak out.

And wait.

But Jayne only nods. “I can understand that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She clasps her palms together, looking thoughtful. “I’ve barely dated outside of the army. It’s easier to go with what you know, and convenience.”

I can hardly believe her words. Is she really being this understanding?

“Right,” I agree. “Easier…but then it becomes complicated.”

“Exactly.” She grins, her eyes lighting up.

“Thank you for being honest with me,” she says.

I make a show of nodding amicably. “I hope this sets the tone for our time together.”

“Same here.” She glances at the clock on the wall. “I should be going. The wife is—Oh.” Laughter bubbles from her chest. “Okay. I see now why there was a misunderstanding.”

“Why’s that?” I ask, barely breathing. Every time Jayne laughs, I’m mesmerized.

“My roommate, Amy—she’s an old military buddy—anyway, I call her ‘the wife.’ It’s this joke we have, because we’ve been best friends so long, sometimes it feels more like we’re married than anything else. I called her that in my interview, kind of accidentally. I guess they thought I really was gay.” Jayne grimaces. “Sorry. It looks like this was all my fault.”

“No,” I quickly say. “Don’t apologize. It’s funny.”

And it is. Kind of.

It’s also painfully frustrating.

“I am sorry, though.”

“Don’t be,” I breathe.

For a long moment, we look at each other. There’s so little space between us, all I would need to do to have her in my arms is just reach out and…

“Have a good night,” I gruffly say, stepping back. “See you on Monday.”

“You, too. Have a good weekend.”

I won’t let myself look at her. Am I imagining the slight disappointment in her voice?

Jayne leaves me still staring at the carpet. The chatter of cartoon characters comes from the living room, and a vacuum cleaner runs upstairs, courtesy of Nina, the housekeeper who stops in three days a week.

Meanwhile, I’m still in the dining room, frozen in one spot.

I brought Jayne into my life in the hopes that she’d make things simpler. Ironically, it looks like I’ve done nothing but make everything more complicated.

Chapter 9

Jayne

“Man, you have it made.” Amy leans forward, wrapping her hands around her ceramic latte cup.

“You don’t have it so bad either,” I point out.

Her nose wrinkles. “You mean with school? You must be kidding.”

I shrug a shoulder. “You’re learning.”

She sighs. “And getting my ass kicked in the process. I have two papers to write by Monday. Talk about crazy.”

I blow on my coffee, watching the steam curl away and dissipate. “It can’t be any worse than boot camp.”

“True.” She barks out a laugh. “Anything is better than boot camp.”

I smile, enjoying the moment. Around us, the coffee shop bubbles with the excitement that comes with the holidays. Christmas is still weeks away, but the approaching festivities can be felt in the air. People laugh with friends and hug each other while standing in line. The whole world seems full of love.

“What are you smiling about?” Amy asks.

“It’s almost the holidays.”

She squints her eyes in suspicion. “You sure you weren’t thinking about your hot boss?”

“No,” I say, way too fast.

Amy has looked Benjamin’s picture up online, and she knows everything about our situation.

“It’s probably good he’s your boss and you can’t get with him,” she muses. “You know, he likely ran all those other nannies off, right? He couldn’t keep his hands off of them.”

“I know. And I don’t really care.”

Again, Amy looks at me like she doesn’t believe me. “Yeah, okay.”

“No, really. I get how it must be, being this big CEO and dating. Plus, he’s a single parent…” I trail off, thinking about the photo Mia showed me next to her bed. It’s of her and her mother, taken when Mia was a baby. According to Mia, she died about four years ago. Beyond that, I don’t know anything.

I suppose I could find out online, seeing as Benjamin is famous, but the thought of creeping on his personal life like that makes my skin crawl. He’s a real person that I work for, not some random celebrity.

“You’re really forgiving,” Amy comments.

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“All I’m trying to say is, you’re not usually this way.”

I can read between the lines.

“Nothing is going to happen between the two of us.”

“And what if it does?”

I purse my lips, unwilling to lie to myself. I know how easily two people can give in to attraction and do things they hadn’t planned on. If my intuition about Benjamin is correct, he’s just as drawn to me as I am to him.

“We both have reasons for not getting involved,” I point out.

“But if something does happen?”

I look into my coffee, thinking about that. “Then we’ll figure it out then,” I simply say.

Amy takes a sip of her latte, watching me over the rim of the cup.

“Don’t give me a hard time about this. You’re the one who wants me to find a man.”

She sighs, putting her cup down so she can touch my arm. “I want you to find an available man, not one who’s no good for you. There’s a difference.”

“Okay, full disclosure? Yes, I would like to find a guy—”

“I knew it.”

“But I’m not blind. I know that Benjamin and I wouldn’t work out.”

“What about something casual?”

I run my teeth over my bottom lip. “That wouldn’t be a good idea. For Mia’s sake.”

“How many nannies has she gone through?”

“Three. That I know of. There might be more.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “And she’s so sweet, so smart.”

My heart warms as I think of Mia. We’ve had a great first week together. Dropping her off at school in the mornings always bums me out. With her there, that means I have seven full hours each day to do nothing with.

To fill my time, I’ve been taking a lot of classes at the gym. Every instructor from yoga to kickboxing to water aerobics knows me by name, now. A couple of days, I’ve gone to the indoor shooting range downtown. Other than that, there’s nothing to do. All those hours spent alone feel…barren.

“Let’s go out tonight,” Amy suggests.

“What about your papers?”

“It’s Friday.”

“That doesn’t answer my question at all.”

She pouts. “Yeah, I know. But wouldn’t it be fun to go out and meet some people?”

She means guys.

The thought of navigating dark clubs and bars while intoxicated men hang all over me in an attempt to figure out whether or not I’ll go home with them doesn’t appeal to me in the slightest.

“I’ll think about it,” I say. “Right now, I have to go pick Mia up.”

“See you at home.”

“See you.”

Grabbing the neon pink backpack I keep my gym clothes in, I head out to the street. Mia’s elementary school is less than half a mile away. Driving there is quick.

It’s sitting in the car line that’s not.

Ten minutes later, engine idling, I flip through radio stations as I wait for the next batch of cars to load kids and pile out. The conversation with Amy runs through my head.

Benjamin and I have had some…moments. That can’t be denied.

But if I want romance, I’m going to have to look elsewhere. It doesn’t matter how attracted to him I am. This job is amazing, and I already care about Mia. I can’t screw things up.

Sighing, I look up and gaze out across the street, to the park across from the school. Most of the cars in the area are in the pickup line or parked in the lot, but there’s one exception. Right across the street, a black car sits, its window rolled down halfway.

As I watch, the sketchy-looking man behind the wheel sweeps his gaze over the pickup line and says something into a phone.

What is he doing over there? Why isn’t he in the pickup line?

My heart rate increases. Something’s not right.

The car line moves forward, and I park along the sidewalk in front of the school. No, a guy watching a school and not picking any kids up is definitely not normal. Maybe I should say something to the staff.

I’m at the right angle now where I can see the license plate. “B…E…A…” I whisper under my breath, committing the sequence to memory.

Suddenly, the back door opens, making me jump.

“Hi, Jayne,” Mia sings out, dropping her backpack next to mine and plopping into her seat.

“Hey. How was school?”

The words have barely left my lips before I’m turning to look back out the windshield.

The black car is gone.

My jaw sets tight and my stomach twists. It doesn’t matter that the man left. The fact that he was in front of the school at all is disconcerting.

But at least I got the license plate number.

Mia is chattering away, telling me all about her music class today.

“Uh-huh,” I murmur, unable to focus on her story. “That sounds fun. Buckle up.”

Maybe it’s my years in the army. Maybe I’m just an anxious person. I don’t know. All I know for sure is that the man across the street made the hair on my arms stand straight up, and that’s never a good sign.

Chapter 10

Jayne

Mia and I stretch the popcorn string across the table, letting its ends dangle over the sides.

“It’s so long,” she giggles.

“And the birds will love it,” I answer.

“Mm, popcorn,” Eddie comments as he’s walking through the kitchen. “Yum, yum. Give me some of that.”

“No,” Mia laughs. “It’s for the birds.”

“Aw.” Eddie pretends to be crushed.

“Ready to put this outside?” I ask.

Mia grabs the popcorn string and runs for the porch.

I follow her into the backyard, going past the covered pool and the gazebo. At the left end of the yard sit the two-story guesthouse where Eddie lives. Beyond that, it’s more lawn and more trees. At the very end of the property is the tennis court. I’ve yet to see Benjamin use it, but I can imagine him out there in the summer hitting some balls around with his friends.

I can imagine it too well. Sweat sliding down his temples…toned arms flexing as he smacks the ball with his racket…

“Here you go, birds,” Mia says, stopping at the bird feeder, which all the birds in the backyard vacated once they clocked us.

She tosses the popcorn string to the ground.

“How about we put it in a tree?” I suggest. “Somewhere birds like to be.”

“Oh, yeah! Okay.”

By the time we’ve put the popcorn in a tree and are heading back inside, I’ve almost forgotten about Benjamin. Until we run into him at the back door, that is.

“Hi, Daddy.” Mia wraps her arms around his legs and beams up at him.

“Hey, pumpkin.” He places his hand on the top of her head. “How was school?”

“Fine.” She runs off inside, done with the conversation already.

Benjamin turns to me and smiles. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” I stick my hands into my jeans’ pockets. “How are you?”

“Good.”

He nods. I nod.

This couldn’t be more awkward…and yet, I’m not walking away. Clearly, I love driving myself crazy.

Even if I can’t have Benjamin, at least I can fantasize about him—which I’ve already done. More than once.

Has he ever imagined what it would be like to be with me?

I vanquish the thought.

“Mia’s homework is all done,” I tell him. “It was just a worksheet.”

“That’s all for the whole weekend?” He has his phone out and is looking between me and the screen.

“Yeah, they should really push first graders harder.”

He smirks. At least he got the joke.

“Sorry,” Benjamin says, putting his phone in his pocket. “There’s a lot going on with work.”

“It’s fine. I’m sure it’s usually that way.”

He inclines his head in concession. He must have forgotten to shave this morning—or maybe he’s going for a new look. A thick swatch of stubble covers his cheeks and jaw, and it looks damn good on him.

“How did your first week go?”

I have to repeat his question in my head, I was that distracted.

“Good. Mia is…she’s a really wonderful girl.”

Benjamin’s eyes soften. “I think so, too.”

“I know maybe I shouldn’t bring this up, but…”

“But?”

“She begged me to talk to you about getting her a real bunny.”

“Ah. I figured that was coming.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Yeah. Sorry. I’m just the messenger.”

Benjamin chuckles and looks over his shoulder. We can see the kitchen through the glass doors. Mia is at the table, swinging her legs over the edge of her chair as she talks to Eddie.

“I keep trying to get her passionate about dogs,” my boss says.

“I love dogs.”

“Me, too.” He looks back at me, his gaze laser-focused on my face. The intensity in his eyes is too much. I have to force myself not to look away.

Does he even know what he’s doing to me? Is it intentional? Or is he just this sultry all the time?

“I was thinking about surprising her with a puppy soon,” he says.

I swallow and look away. Right. Animals. That’s what we were talking about.

“If you give her a dog, she’ll probably name it Bunny,” I answer with a chuckle.

“Nothing wrong with that.”

I peek at him from under my eyelashes. What would things be like between us if he wasn’t my boss? Would we have a fighting chance?

“It’s good to hear it was a normal week,” he says. “You can come in later tomorrow. I’m not going to the office until noon.”

The mention of a normal week reminds me of the man at the school. I already called the school’s office while Mia was upstairs putting her things away. I gave the woman who answered the license plate number and the man’s description, and she said they would keep an eye out for “further activity.”

“Hey, speaking of normal…”

Benjamin cocks an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“There was this weird man across from Mia’s school this afternoon. He seemed to be…watching for something, or someone.”

Benjamin frowns. “He must have been waiting for his kid to come out.”

“No.” I shake my head. “He drove off without picking anyone up. I called the school’s office and told them about it, though.”

Benjamin’s phone rings, and he whips it from his pocket bullet-quick. “Hold on one second.”

I nod.

“Yeah?” he answers. “Okay… And what did they say about the numbers?”

I look past Benjamin and into the kitchen. Mia’s not in there anymore. Hopefully, I’ll be able to find her in this massive house before I leave. I don’t like going at the end of the day without saying goodbye.

“Don, wait a moment.” Benjamin covers the phone’s mouthpiece and looks at me. “What did the school say?”

“That they’d keep an eye out for the car. I gave them the license plate number.”

“It’s probably nothing.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he’s already talking into the phone again. Back to me, he walks across the patio, completely sucked into the conversation.

I frown. I don’t like brushing things off as “probably nothing.” Suspicious behavior is suspicious behavior. And the twisting feeling in my stomach is something, as well.

Benjamin turns back to me, still talking on the phone. “Uh…yeah.” He catches my eye and gives me a little wave. Looks like I’m dismissed.

Not that I care. He’s always taking phone calls at home.

It’s his lack of interest in what I told him that’s disconcerting. It doesn’t seem to worry him at all that a strange character was lurking outside his daughter’s school.

Going through the house, I find Mia and give her a hug goodbye before heading across the front porch. I do a sweep of the yard as I walk to my car. I’m not checking for anything or anyone in particular, it’s just a habit of mine to survey every new area I enter—blame six years in the military, I guess.

Jumping into my car, I hit lock on the doors right away—another safety habit.

Amy makes fun of my cautious personality, but all joking aside, she knows as well as I do that being aware is crucial when it comes to avoiding unwanted situations.

Thinking of her instantly makes me want to give her a call.

Putting the phone on speaker, I navigate out of the driveway.

“Hey,” she answers.

“Hey. Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“So…I saw something weird at Mia’s school today. This guy was watching the building from across the street and talking on the phone.”

“Okay.”

“And then he drove off without picking up any kids.”

“Okay…?”

I check for traffic before turning onto the main road that will take me most of the way to the apartment. “I just want to know…am I being paranoid?”

“Hmm. Good question. With you, it’s hard to tell.”

“Damn,” I mutter. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“But, then again…I don’t know. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Exactly.”

“What do you think this guy might have been doing?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I mean, looking to steal a kid, that’s the obvious answer—”

“School would be a hard place to do that.”

“Yeah.”

I think of Benjamin: his fame and his money. The school Mia goes to is a public one, which surprised me. I’m sure a lot of parents there work in the tech world, but surely none of them are as successful as Benjamin. If someone was looking to take a kid hostage and demand ransom, the daughter of a billionaire would be the obvious choice.

My eyes stray to the glove compartment, and my mind thinks of the handgun at the apartment. It’s in a box under the couch; the ammo is in my duffel bag. In the past, I’ve kept it in my car. Since I’m driving someone else’s kid around all the time, now, though, I know that’s not the best idea. It’s also not appropriate to have a gun around someone’s kid without their knowledge.

Even though I’d feel monumentally better knowing that gun was in easy reach.

“Are you still up for partying tonight?” Amy asks, interrupting my thoughts.

I grimace. “I don’t recall saying yes to that. How about a movie at home instead?”

She groans. “This is because of Benjamin, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“It is. You don’t want to go out and meet men because you’re stuck on thinking about him.”

“I’ll see you at home,” I tell her, smacking the End button and ending the conversation before she can retaliate.

Amy is right about one thing. Benjamin is on my mind. It’s not his hot body I’m thinking about now, though. It’s his daughter’s safety.

The rest of the way home, I do a mental detailing of his mansion. The security system there is good. Very good. I checked it out my second day on the job.

If anyone tries to break into that place, the alarm will go off and the police will be there in minutes.

It soothes me to know Mia is safe while at home. It’s everywhere else I’m worried about.

But maybe I am worrying too much. Honestly, I have a habit of doing that.

Squaring my shoulders, I tell myself that everything is going to be just fine. I mentally repeat the sentence at least twenty times.

By the time I get home, I almost believe it.

Chapter 11

Benjamin

“Ah-choo!” Mia’s little sneeze fills the air. She sniffles and climbs into my bed. “Daddy, I don’t feel good.”

“What’s going on?” I sit up, my head throbbing slightly as I do so.

“I’m so tired,” she whines. “And I keep coughing.”

I hold my palm against her forehead. Warm, but not too hot. “It feels like you might have a low fever.”

Mia collapses against the pillows. “I don’t want to go to school today.”

I rub her back. “Okay. You don’t have to. Jayne will be here soon, and the two of you can stay home together. Here. Get cozy. I’ll have Eddie bring you some juice.”

She wiggles under my quilt, and I put some cartoons on my television before dressing and heading downstairs. Eddie’s there already, and right after I send him upstairs with juice, I hear the front door open.

Jayne.

Pleasurable shivers travel down my back.

“Hi,” she says as she enters. She looks just as delicious as always—more, actually. Her hair is in two loose braids, which my fingers itch to take hold of.

“Mia is sick,” I explain.

“Oh, no. With what?”

“A cold, it looks like. Maybe with a slight fever.” I’ve hardly finished getting the words out when I sneeze. My head throbs again.

“And you are too, it looks like.”

Jayne comes right up to me and puts her hand on my forehead, like I did with Mia. Except, this time, the act is completely different. Our gazes catch, and Jayne quickly drops her hand and steps back.

“I just need to take something for this headache, and I’ll be fine.” I rifle through the cabinet above the fridge and find a painkiller to pop. No sooner have I taken two pills than I’m sneezing again.

“Here.” Jayne passes me the box of tissues from the counter. “Maybe you should consider staying home today.”

I press my fingers against my temples. I hate sick days. I don’t have time for them.

“I have too much to do.”

Jayne laughs. “When do you not have a lot to do? You run a giant company.”

That makes me smile a bit. “Good point.”

“Also, if you don’t take the time to get better, you’ll end up becoming even sicker, and then you’ll miss twice the work.”

“You’ve made your point. I’m staying home.”

I shoot one of my assistants a text, telling her what’s going on, and then set the phone on the table. I won’t be needing it today; a break would be really nice.

“I’ll go up and check on Mia,” Jayne says.

“Hold on.” I reach a hand out, stopping her, though we make no physical connection.

“Do you not need me today?” she slowly asks.

“No, I was…actually, yeah. Stay. Hang out with us. It’ll be fun—unless you’re worried about getting sick,” I add. “If so, you can go.”

“I’m not worried about that.”

“Okay. Great.”

“Cool.” Jayne nibbles on her bottom lip. “Um, so why don’t you go upstairs and I’ll bring you two some breakfast?”

“That would be nice, thank you.”

I make a beeline for the staircase before I can say anything else. I don’t know what compelled me to ask Jayne to stay home with us. Since Mia and I are both sick and won’t be doing much other than laying around, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of her myself.

You just want to look at her, I tell myself.

Mia’s right where I left her, except she’s taken the time to go to her room and retrieve her stuffed bunny. The orange juice sitting on the bedside table is untouched, and all of her attention is on the TV.

Shutting myself in my walk-in closet, I change into a more comfortable outfit and sit down in bed with her. Jayne appears within ten minutes, carrying a breakfast tray laden with fruit salad and pancakes.

“Wow. I forgot about that.” I nod at the tray. “Where did you find it?”

“In one of the bottom cupboards. Here, Mia. Have some oranges. They’ll help you get better.”

Mia eats a few bites but then lays back down, glazed-over eyes on the television.

“Let’s watch something we all like,” I suggest.

Mia groans.

“What about a nature show?” Jayne suggests. “I like animals, and I know you do too.”

“Okay,” Mia agrees.

Jayne gives me a shrug.

“Good enough,” I whisper so Mia can’t hear.

Jayne’s sitting on the very edge of my bed, looking uncomfortable. Which makes sense. This is my bedroom, after all.

Wait. If she’s so uncomfortable, does that mean she can’t help but think of the things that might go on in here?

“Let’s go downstairs and watch in the living room,” I say, my voice unnaturally loud. “The TV is bigger in there.”

Jayne bolts to standing. “Great idea.”

A few minutes later and we’re congregated in the living room, piles of pillows and blankets on the couch. Mia lays her head in my lap, and I prop my feet on the coffee table. With Jayne curled on the other end of the couch, things finally feel comfortable.

We watch one movie, and then another. My brain feels like it’s melting by the time Jayne suggests we play a game.

“Candy Castle, Candy Castle,” Mia chants.

“Candy Castle it is.” I pull the board game out of the closet in the corner of the room.

We play one game. Two games. Three. Surprisingly, it’s fun. There’s a lot of joking around and laughing. The noises of the house become pleasant white noise: Ray blending and chopping in the kitchen. Eddie puttering around, coming in and out of the back door.

Everything feels nice. Normal.

Is this what it would be like to have a family? One that contains more members than me and Mia?

I surreptitiously watch Jayne as she rolls the dice and claps over a high score. A family life is something I’ve given little thought to in the last few years. My parents are still happily married, so I know it works out well for some people.

It just didn’t for me.

“Your turn, Mia,” Jayne says.

Mia falls against the couch cushions and sighs. “I’m too tired.”

“Aw. Come here.” Jayne wraps her arms around Mia and pulls my little girl into her lap. Mia goes willingly, snuggling up close to Jayne, her bunny forgotten on the coffee table.

My throat tightens at the sight. All of Mia’s previous nannies were good with her, but my daughter never took to anyone in quite the way she’s already taken to Jayne.

Her mother used to hold her that way…on the days when she was sober and home.

My eyes burn, and I quickly look away. “I’m getting some tea. Anyone want anything?”

“I’ll get it for you,” Jayne says.

I don’t turn to look at her. “No, no. It’s fine.”

Ray has just left, and Eddie is off somewhere, which means I have the kitchen all to myself. I put the kettle on and lean against the counter as I wait for it.

What was going on back there? Watching Jayne and Mia cuddle, I felt something I haven’t in years. Such warmth—I haven’t been in love in… Shit. Maybe ever.

Mia’s mother and I didn’t have the traditional happily-ever-after love story. We were only together for a couple months before she became pregnant. Not for a second have I ever regretted my daughter’s birth, but there were other things about the situation that caused me pain…things I don’t like to think about.

Footsteps make me look up. Jayne is in the doorway, casting an uncertain look my way.

“Mia wanted an apple,” she says.

“Right. I’ll get it.” I move for the fridge, but she’s faster, already taking an apple out of the drawer and reaching for one of the cutting boards on the island.

“She likes it—”

“Cut into slices with cinnamon sprinkled on it.”

“Yeah.” I lean back against the counter and watch her cut up the apple. “You’ve learned a lot in only two weeks here.”

“It’s my job,” she says simply.

“Mia likes you. A lot.”

I don’t miss the way her hands still on the cutting board. “I like her, too,” Jayne says, voice barely above a whisper.

You fit in well here.

The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t say them. I don’t even know why. Maybe I’m one of those guys you always hear about who are impossible when it comes to opening up. Maybe I’m no good with feelings or with loving anyone who isn’t my daughter.

So then why can’t I get this stunning, red-headed nanny off my mind? How come I think about her night and day?

“The water is ready.”

“Huh?” I ask, just as the kettle’s shrill whistling hits my ears.

I kill the stove and pour the water into the waiting cups. “You heard that?”

“Yeah. You didn’t?”

“I was distracted.”

“By what?”

Now, it’s my turn to freeze. I take my time turning away from the counter and coming to face Jayne. She stands at the island, everything still except for her heaving chest. I don’t need to be an expert at reading body language to know what’s going on. She wants me as badly as I do her.

For a brief second, I consider closing the space between us. It wouldn’t take more than a few strides.

But then I think of Mia, and I remember what it is I have to lose here. I screwed up with the last three nannies, and that can’t happen again.

“I should get this to Mia.” Jayne plates the apple and sprinkles some cinnamon on it. I realize I never answered her question.

“I was thinking about how good you are with Mia.”

“Oh.” Jayne’s eyes widen slightly.

“We’ve never had a nanny that she gets along with this well.” My voice cracks on the end part. I already feel like I’ve said too much, gotten too close to confessing everything.

“She’s a special little girl,” Jayne whispers.

I can only nod.

She takes the apple slices, leaving me alone in the kitchen with my thoughts once more.

Chapter 12

Jayne

“I liked today,” Mia tells me from her spot in bed.

“I did, too.”

“You were here all day long. Can we do it again tomorrow?”

I tighten the covers around Mia’s side. “Not tomorrow, but maybe another time soon.”

Mia yawns, blinking fast. I can tell that she’s only about a minute away from sleep.

“Do you want me to read you a story?” I ask.

“No,” Mia murmurs, her eyes closing. “I’m too…tired…”

She’s out.

I twist to look at where Benjamin stands in the doorway. “That was quick,” I whisper.

“Only because she’s sick,” he whispers back.

I nod and slowly get up from the bed. Together, we tiptoe from the room and down the stairs. It’s barely dusk; Mia has gone to sleep a whole two hours early.

“Thanks for staying,” Benjamin tells me in the foyer. “It really made Mia’s day.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

I start to go for the coat closet.

“Would you like to stay for a drink?”

I slowly turn to face him. “Won’t a drink ruin your chances of getting better?”

“I’m already feeling better,” he answers.

I consider that. He did fall asleep on the couch earlier without meaning to, and ended up snoozing for over an hour. Once he woke up, he claimed his headache and every other symptom was gone.

“Okay,” I eventually say. “A drink sounds nice.”

“You like red wine?”

“I love it.”

That makes him smile—which makes my heart somersault.

“In that case, I have something to show you.”

Benjamin takes me down the back hallway and into the basement. We go past the arcade games, the movie theater room, and to the door at the back, which leads into the wine cellar.

“Wow,” I breathe, looking around. The wine cellar is a proper one: at least eight-by-eight feet, and each and every wall is covered with racks.

Benjamin finds the bottle he came for right away.

“This is it. A smooth Malbec.”

“Is that a movie theater?” I ask him as we pass a set of double doors. Mia already told me there was a movie theater down here, but I’ve had trouble believing it.

“Kind of. It’s a small one.” He doubles back and reaches into the room to flick the light on. It illuminates a screen covering a whole wall, two black couches, and half a dozen giant bean bags.

I can feel my eyes bugging out as I step into the room. “Wow.”

“We don’t use it very much.”

I turn back to face him. “Why not?”

“When I bought this place, I thought I’d be entertaining a lot more than I am. And we did, at first. But then…”

He trails off. Is the “we” him and Mia’s mom?

Benjamin smiles, but it’s obviously forced.

“How about we drink this down here? I’ll go grab some glasses.”

“Sure.”

I settle onto one of the couches and wait for him. Despite the fact that the home theater doesn’t get much use, it’s well maintained, every inch vacuumed and dusted to within an inch of its life.

No wonder the housekeeper comes so often. She certainly has her hands full with this many rooms.

Benjamin is back in a few minutes, two glasses and a wine opener in hand. I wait quietly as he ceremoniously opens the bottle and pours us each a glass.

“Wow,” I say after my first sip. “This is good.”

He nods knowingly, and we sit silently for a few minutes, drinking our wine on opposite ends of the couch.

“Want to watch something?” Benjamin asks.

I shrug. “Sure.”

He sets his wine on one of the shelves along the wall and goes through a stack of DVDS. One falls to the floor, and I pick it up.

“Mia. Year One,” I read. “Aw, little Mia. How about this?”

Benjamin slowly straightens up. “Sure.”

He doesn’t want to watch it; I can tell from the look on his face.

“It’s okay, we can watch something else…” I go to put the DVD down, but he takes it from me and pops it in the player.

Home video footage of Mia sitting in a high chair appears on the giant screen.

“It’s cool that you have this,” I comment. “Everyone else records on their phones now and uploads to the cloud.”

Benjamin chuckles. “I work in tech, remember—I know the importance of keeping a hard copy.”

We take our seats again and watch as baby Mia bangs her palms against the high chair’s tray. The scene switches and we’re in a field. This time, Mia’s not alone. There’s a blonde woman.

Her mother. I recognize her from the picture in Mia’s room.

Benjamin tenses up.

“Let’s stop this.” I jump up and shut off the player. My face is burning. We shouldn’t have played the DVD. He was trying to be nice by putting it in, but I should have been firmer.

There’s a quiet moment in which my own breathing sounds too loud.

“I’m sorry,” I manage.

Benjamin looks at me. “It’s fine. I don’t think about her that much.”

I sit back down on the couch, this time a little closer to him, taking the cushion next to his. “Mia’s mentioned her a few times.”

His face snaps in my direction. “What has she said?”

I look into my wine, feeling awkward. “She told me that she had a mommy who loved her very much and that she went to Heaven…that’s all, I think.”

Benjamin sighs, his shoulders sagging. “She died of a drug overdose.”

It’s such a brutal confession, one I never expected from Benjamin. So far, he’s been careful about keeping space between the two of us, about never showing me too much.

His honesty stuns me.

Benjamin eyes me. “But you probably knew that.”

“No. I didn’t.”

His eyebrows knit together. “You didn’t? It’s all online, right there for anyone who wants to know.”

“I’ve never looked you up.”

His face softens, and he starts looking at me in a new way, his eyes roving across my face as if he’s looking for something. Warmth fills me up, and I’m compelled to both look away and keep staring back at him. Before I can decide which one I’ll do, he speaks.

“Hayden was a model. We met in New York when I was there on a business trip. We were young. I was only twenty-two. She was even younger.”

I can barely breathe. My stomach is twisting. This story isn’t going somewhere cheerful.

“She liked to party.” Benjamin sighs and sits back against the couch. “She tried to cut back. She really did…for Mia.” His eyes become soft, but his voice is even softer. “She really loved Mia.”

I can feel the tears welling in my eyes. I blink them back as I sadly smile.

He goes on, his voice tone monotonous now, as if he’s speaking of an event that happened to someone else. “She died when Mia was two. She took a pill at a party; she didn’t know what was in it.”

“Oh my God. That’s awful,” I gasp.

“That’s the way it is.”

“Does Mia remember her at all?”

He considers that. “I don’t think so…I hope not. Maybe it’ll be easier on her if she doesn’t.”

“I don’t know,” I admit.

His eyes lift to me. “What about your family?”

“My parents live right outside of the city. I’m an only child.”

He keeps looking at me. “That’s all?”

“That pretty much sums it up.”

“There has to be more there.”

I sigh. “We don’t really…get along that well. I mean, it’s complicated. They offered to have me move in with them after I left the army, and I said no, and that kind of upset them.”

“Why?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Condense it.”

I guffaw. “Okay. Let’s see…um, when I was a kid, they both worked all the time. Like, sixty to seventy hours a week. I didn’t get to see them much. And then, when I went into the army, they didn’t understand it. They tried to convince me not to.”

“And they still don’t get it?”

“No.”

“Why did you join?”

“I wanted to push myself, to find out how much I’m capable of…and I wanted to feel like I was of some service.”

“No better place to do that than in the service.”

“True.” I smile.

“And so you didn’t move in with them. You live with your…” His lips turn up.

“Wife?”

“There we go.” He jabs at the air with his pointer finger.

I laugh. “You wouldn’t have hired me if you knew I was straight, huh?”

It’s a ballsy question, but the wine and Benjamin’s own confessions have me feeling brave.

His cheeks puff as he exhales and looks up at the ceiling. “Honestly? No.”

“Even though I’m good with Mia.”

He winces like my comment caused him pain. “Yeah. That’s pretty shitty, huh?”

“A little, but I don’t care.”

Benjamin looks at me in confusion. “How can you not care? Most women would flip over finding that out.”

“I don’t care,” I carefully and slowly answer, “Because I understand. You have a lot on your plate.”

His dark lashes flutter. “Yeah,” he agrees, the word all breathy.

I gulp, realizing how close we are. It’s been a while since Benjamin has looked away from me, and now his face is swaying slightly toward mine…

I suck in a breath, my heart racing. Gone are all my concerns about getting involved with my boss. I want Benjamin’s hands on me; I want to know what his lips taste like, feel like. All of a sudden, nothing else matters.

Without warning, he pulls back. “It’s late.”

I have to search for air. “Is…is it?”

It can’t be any later than eight.

He stands. “Thanks again for staying.”

“No problem.”

My face is on fire, and I feel like an idiot. Benjamin was about to kiss me; I know it…but then, he drew back. Because, unlike me, he has a brain and knows us touching each other would be a bad idea.

“I’ll walk you out.”

I want nothing more than to be alone right now, but I let him show me to the door.

“Good night,” I say as I step over the threshold.

He doesn’t quite look at me, instead aiming his gaze at a spot above my head. “Good night.”

I feel like I’m going to throw up. This time, I don’t pause to survey the dark yard for any potential dangers. I’m in my car and down the driveway within a minute.

As I drive home and my pulse slows, I realize that everything is okay. Benjamin and I didn’t slip up. We kept things platonic.

But the truth, I now realize, is that I no longer have qualms about getting involved. If Benjamin were to so much as lay a hand on me, I would give him everything he wants, and I would never look back.

Chapter 13

Benjamin

I push back from my computer desk and stretch my arms high above my head. Two o’clock. The perfect time to take a little break before I finish up some emails. Then Mia will be home from school, and I can spend a little time with her before getting back into my home office and finishing up.

Her cold had her out of school for two days, and though she went today, I decided to keep the momentum going and work from home. It’s not too busy of a week anyway, and I like being at the house when she gets in after school.

Pushing open my office door, I go into the hallway, noticing two things at once: it’s eerily quiet and the place smells like cookies.

“Hello?” I call, making my way down the hallway.

I turn into the kitchen—and nearly fall over.

Jayne is at the counter, spooning cookie dough onto a baking sheet. It’s the first time I’ve seen her today, as I was already in my office when she took Mia to school.

It’s a good thing I didn’t set eyes on her until now, because I would have been too distracted to function. Not with the dress she has on.

The skirt barely brushes the tops of her knees. Combine it with the lace apron she’s wearing, and she looks like she belongs in a dream…a very raunchy dream.

“Hi,” she says, setting the bowl on the counter.

“Hi.” My voice is thick and heavy. I try again. “Where is everyone?”

“Ray and Nina already left, and Eddie is visiting his brother till tonight. Remember?”

“Oh. Yeah.” I rub my palm against the back of my head. Seeing Jayne in such a sexy getup has made it nearly impossible to think.

I’ve been basically avoiding her since the other night in the theater. Not because I don’t want to see her, but because I want to see her too much. She’s all I can think about anymore, and that’s not good.

“I’m baking cookies,” she explains. “Want some?”

I walk over to where she’s holding a spoonful of cookie dough and drop my face to take a bite.

Jayne’s eyes go wide. “I meant of the already baked ones.”

That’s when I notice the cookies cooling on the stove top. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s—it’s okay.”

Her voice is heavy, silky. We’re standing only inches away. If she breathed hard enough I’d feel the exhale on my face.

Before I have time to think about it, my hand is moving up and cupping her face. The hand holding the spoon drops to her side and she closes her eyes, leaning into my touch.

Electricity courses in my veins. I’ve been waiting weeks to touch her, believing it would never happen. There are too many reasons why it shouldn’t, but at this moment, I can’t find it in me to care.

I need this woman and everything she can give me. Right now, nothing else matters but that.

Jayne’s lips part slightly, a soft moan escaping them, and I need nothing else. My lips meet hers.

She parts her lips further for me, and I sweep my tongue across them. She tastes like sugar, chocolate, and everything heavenly in between. Cupping the back of her neck with one hand and wrapping my other arm around her waist, I kiss her deeper.

Our tongues dance across each other like they were made for this. It’s our first time touching, and yet somehow, we already read each other so well.

Jayne drapes her arms over my shoulders, her lithe body pressing harder against mine. Red-hot desire flashes through me, the need becoming unbearable.

Still kissing, I spin Jayne around and press her against the counter. I’ve got her pinned there, my legs straddling her. I can feel the fabric of her skirt and apron stretching as she opens her legs, pressing the outside of her thighs against the inside of mine.

The kiss becomes hungrier—ravenous. My palms travel down her back and over the tight curve of her ass. Jayne moans into my mouth, pressing her hips against my groin.

My dick swells. My fingers are shaking as I cling to her, as I push her skirt up.

“Benjamin,” she gasps against my mouth.

My name on her lips takes me to my breaking point. With one quick move, I grab her hips and hoist her up, setting her on the edge of the counter. Her legs go around my waist, heels pressing into my ass and driving me closer to her.

I run my hands down the tops of her thighs, relishing the softness there. Jayne kisses me harder, sending her grasp under my shirt, where she clutches at my abs. There’s no doubt as to what she wants.

Good thing I’m only too happy to give it to her.

Still kissing, I find her panties. They’re sopping wet, clinging to her mound. I push the fabric aside and stroke the tight bud there. Jayne shivers against me, her whole body convulsing from pleasure and anticipation.

Simply touching her isn’t enough. My mouth waters.

Pulling away from her lips, I drop my face to her waist level, lifting her dress and pushing her underwear to the side before taking her sweet jewel in my mouth. Jayne moans loudly, her hands digging into my hair. She doesn’t hold back when she likes something, and Jesus, I love that about her.

I suck greedily, inserting a finger between her lower lips so that I can work her both inside and outside. She quivers against me, her thighs shaking. I can feel it as she explodes, her pleasure pummeling through her and into my mouth. I lap it up eagerly, wanting to take it and make it my own.

Jayne is breathing harshly as I straighten up, her head against the cabinet and her breasts heaving. I lick my lips, imagining what is hidden under that dress probably look like.

There’s no time to undress her fully, though. This need has been building for weeks, and I have to take care of it before it kills me.

Hands shaking, I unbuckle my belt and pull out my dick. Jayne’s eyes go a little wide at the sight, which makes me smile.

Her entrance is still wet and pulsing, the perfect spot for my throbbing cock. Holding it by the base, I push into her. Her tight muscles clamp onto my girth, and Jayne and I groan at the same time.

I drive all the way into her, giving her every inch of me, giving her time to memorize each ridge. Pulling almost all the way out, but not quite, I thrust back in with a wet smack. Jayne squeals, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth open in endless pleasure.

Holding onto her thighs, I pummel into her, unable to take my eyes off her beautiful face. The smacks and moans fill the kitchen. Jayne’s palms hit the counter top. A rolling pin tumbles to the floor, but neither one of us pays it any attention.

Jayne claws at my chest, tugging at my shirt and shoulders—any part of me she can get to. I can’t stop the wicked chuckle from climbing out of my throat. Like me, she’s spent so much time keeping her distance, and now I get to see what she looks like when she cuts loose.

It’s a gorgeous sight, indeed.

We’re as far back on the counter as we can go, Jayne’s shoulder blades pinned to the cabinet. I let go of one of her thighs and close my palm over her breast instead. The mound heaves against my palm, the taut little nipple noticeable even through bra and dress.

I alternate between squeezing her breast and pinching the nipple. Jayne whimpers in pleasure, asking for more. The sound is heaven; each time she so much as breathes loudly, my veins pound with a pained frenzy.

Jayne’s heated gasps become closer together. Grasping the back of her head, I mash our lips together. Her swollen lips press against mine, her tongue exploring wildly. With a shudder, she moans against me, coming again.

The sound of her pleasure makes holding back unbearable. With a grunt, I explode into her.

My shoulders sink as I work to catch my breath. We’re both still gasping for air, and I wrap my arms around Jayne’s back and hold her close. Cookies and sweat scent the air, making what we’ve done all the sweeter.

“Wow,” she says after a minute, breath grazing against my ear.

I draw back enough to look down at her. Our eyes catch, and I understand everything that that one little word meant.

What just happened was amazing…and precisely what we weren’t supposed to do.

I may have fucked everything up, but at this moment, it all feels worth it.

And yet…what happens now? Will I be introducing Mia to another nanny again next week?

I find a loose strand of Jayne’s hair and push it carefully behind her ear. I don’t want her to leave.

Her lips part. She’s about to say something—but the sound of the front door opening cuts her off.

Jayne’s eyes go wide. “Shit,” she whispers.

In a flash, she’s down off the counter and adjusting her skirt. My pants are buttoned up and I’m meeting Eddie halfway in the living room, hoping to stall him while Jayne cleans up the crime scene.

My history with the nannies is no secret to the staff, but for once, I’d like to succeed at keeping my personal affairs under wraps.

“Smells good in here.” Eddie stops and sniffs the air.

I cross my arms, hoping I look normal. “Jayne made cookies.”

“Ah.” He smiles. “I bet she has the magic touch there.”

Eddie ambles past me and into the kitchen.

“She sure does,” I agree under my breath.

Chapter 14

Benjamin

I sit in my office chair, trying to stop myself from gnawing on the end of a pen. Giving up, I throw the pen across the room. It hits the wall with a soft tap and falls to the floor.

I’ve lost track of the time since I’ve shut myself away in here. All I know is I haven’t been able to return to work since losing my mind and fucking Jayne on the kitchen counter.

What the hell was I thinking in there?

Right. I wasn’t. My dick was in charge, not my brain.

Sighing, I rub my palms up and down my face. This is precisely what I promised myself wouldn’t happen…and now, here I am. Back on this damn merry-go-round.

The doorknob jiggling makes me jump.

“Who is it?”

The door opens, and Mia peeks in.

“Oh. Hey, Mia.” I relax back into my chair.

“What are you doing?”

“Daddy’s working, honey. Did you just get home?”

“Uh-huh.” She comes around the desk and tries to crawl into my lap. I help her by giving her a boost. “Jayne made cookies.”

“I, uh…I saw.”

“I brought you one.”

It’s only then that I notice the half-eaten cookie in her hand.

“Looks like you lost some of it on the way here.”

“Oh.” She laughs sheepishly. “I accidentally ate it.”

I pat her back. “How was school?”

“Good,” she murmurs in a disinterested voice. She’s busy looking at my computer. As she reaches for the mouse, I push it away from her grasp.

“I only want to look.”

“Not on my work computer.”

“Mia?”

My heart stops at the sound of Jayne’s voice. She appears in the doorway, wearing the dress I screwed her in.

Something about that makes my blood heat up.

Jayne turns pink, and I know she’s remembering what I am.

“Mia, you left your backpack on the kitchen floor. Do you have any homework?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, go take it to the dining room table and we’ll see. I’ll bring you a snack in there.”

“Okay. Cookies?”

“I was thinking something healthier.”

I pat Mia’s back. “You can’t eat sugar all day, honey. Listen to Jayne. Go.”

Mia slides off my lap and runs out the door. Jayne stays where she is, hanging out in the doorway.

I clear my throat. I was hoping to delay this conversation for at least a few more hours, but if it has to happen now, there’s no way around it.

“What happened in the kitchen, Jayne, was—”

“Amazing.”

I stare at her. I’d been about to say “a mistake,” though I hadn’t wanted to. I simply knew that it would be best to get things out in the open, rather than let our own private feelings lay undercover and fester until they turned into resentments.

Jayne’s gaze is heated, and I gulp.

Slowly, I nod.

“So, you want another taste?” Jayne closes the door behind her.

Holy shit, is all I can think as she walks over to where I’m seated.

Legs straddling my knees, she leans down and gives me a slow and deep kiss. My balls tighten, and my dick twitches, ready for her.

Suddenly, Jayne breaks the kiss and stands up. “Too bad we’ll have to wait.” She winks at me over her shoulder.

I take in a long inhale, trying to kill my raging hard-on. “You don’t think it was a mistake?”

She thinks about that. “I don’t want it to be a mistake.”

“Neither do I.”

She smiles. “So, let’s keep doing what we’re doing.”

My eyes fall to her curvy ass. “God, Jayne, I need you right now.”

“Too bad you’ll have to wait,” she laughs.

“You’re really going to tease me like that?”

She shrugs, making a point of not looking my way as she leaves the room.

I drop my head against the chair with a groan. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Jayne doesn’t regret what happened. That’s good, because neither do I.

Chapter 15

Jayne

I can still feel Benjamin’s hands on me. It’s been a few hours since our wild moment in the kitchen, but every place he’s touched me, he’s left a mark.

“Earth to Jayne.”

Amy’s voice makes me jump, and I turn away from the diner window. She stares at me from across the table, a laminated menu in her hands.

“Regular fries or sweet potato fries?” she asks. “Come on.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve asked you this several times. Why aren’t you listening?” Her eyes go wide and she drops the menu. “Oh. My. God.”

“What?”

“You did it.” She folds her arms and gives me an accusing look.

I scoff. “No. What? No.”

“I’m not stupid.”

“Okay,” I sigh. “Yes. It, um…it happened.”

I glance around the diner, not wanting anyone to hear our conversation. It’s still early, though, at least an hour before the dinner rush, and almost everyone in the place besides us probably collects social security.

“When?”

“This afternoon.”

Amy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wow. So you still smell of it.” She wrinkles her nose. “And you came to dinner with me. Thanks.”

I purse my lips. “Why are you making fun of me?”

Her shoulders sag. “Sorry. It’s just…I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“You don’t know that I’ll get hurt,” I huff.

“What happened with his other nannies? You think they walked away feeling good about the situation?”

I don’t want to think about that.

“You’re not answering,” she pesters.

“Yeah, I know,” I snap, harsher than I mean to. I pick up the menu and get busy studying it.

“Plus, there’s your job,” Amy quietly adds.

I drop the menu. “What’s happening between Benjamin and me has only just started, okay? And it’s nothing serious.”

She guffaws. “I should hope it’s nothing serious after only one roll around the bed.”

“It was actually on the kitchen counter,” I say in a low voice.

Her eyes bug out. “Um, come again?”

“Yeah, like, he put me up on the counter.” I can’t stop myself from smiling.

“That’s kind of hot.”

“Mm-hmm.” I bite my lip and nod.

“You mean he, like, lifted you and set you on it, and he was…”

“Standing…apart from when he was on his knees.”

“What?” she hisses, palms landing on the table as she leans forward. “And what about—wait. Never mind.” She cuts her palms through the air, signaling a time out. “I don’t know why I’m asking about this.”

“Because it’s an amazing story.”

Amy frowns. “Jayne. Don’t put yourself in a bad situation.”

“I’m not.” Her constant insistence that I’m doing that is starting to piss me off. “It’s fun and casual.”

Her answer comes fast. “It’s always fun and casual at first, but how long can these things last? Honestly answer that, please, and then compare your answer with how long you want this job to last.”

She has me there.

“Casual things have an expiration date,” Amy continues. “And once they end…it tends to be messy.”

I know what she says is the truth, but I can’t bring myself to agree with her.

“You can’t fuck without a price,” Amy says.

“More water?” a waitress suddenly asks, realizing too late that she walked into a conversation at the wrong time.

“Yeah. Thanks,” I tell her.

Face pink, she refills our water glasses before leaving as quickly as she can.

“She forgot to take our order,” Amy comments.

“Yeah, well, you scared her away.”

Amy hooks her arm over the top of her booth and studies me. “It’s casual, huh?”

“Yes. Will you stop grilling me, now?”

“For today.”

Another waitress walks by, and Amy catches her so we can order. The conversation moves onto other things: her day at school, whether or not we want to start looking for a bigger apartment, etc. I can hardly focus on anything, though.

Despite all my promises to myself, I went ahead and did what I wanted.

And I don’t regret it in the least…but, the thing is, I know I’m not telling the truth. I’m kidding Amy and I’m kidding myself.

Benjamin and I have only hooked up once. Who knows if it will happen again?

I want it to. God, I want it to so bad.

I want Benjamin’s touch every morning and night.

I was lying through my teeth when I said I expect things to be casual and fun between me and Benjamin. The truth is that I can see myself falling for him.

The most dangerous part of this all is, if I start to really get into him, I know I won’t do anything at all to stop it. I’ll let myself tumble head first, praying that he agrees to fall along with me.

Chapter 16

Jayne

I’m just getting in my car when my phone beeps. Pulling it from my purse, I find a text from Benjamin.

I need you to come over, ASAP.

My heart skips a beat. The message is so immediate and to the point. Is everything okay? It’s past seven, but maybe he has some kind of work emergency.

Rolling down my window, I catch Amy’s attention. It’s pretty easy, since she’s parked in the spot next to me.

“I have to go back to work,” I tell her.

She frowns from behind her steering wheel. “Now?”

“Yeah, Benjamin just texted. There’s some kind of emergency going on.”

“Oh, no. Okay.”

“See you at home.”

She looks like she wants to say something else, but then she decides against it and waves goodbye instead.

On my way now, I text Benjamin before putting my phone away and focusing on driving.

I go as fast as I can while still staying safe, but it seems to take forever to get over to the mansion. The drive gives me plenty of time to think—too much time.

What if this isn’t a work emergency after all? What if he’s asking me over because he’s had time to think about what happened today and he’s realized it was a bad idea?

Holy shit. What if I’m about to get fired?

My hands tighten around the wheel. No. I can’t get fired. It’s my first job with the agency. If I blow it, it’ll look awful. Will they even place me with another family, or will they just give me the ax?

By the time I park in front of the house, I’m trembling from anxiety. Whatever happens, I decide, I’m just going to have to deal with it.

Even if that means saying goodbye to Benjamin and Mia for good.

That thought makes me want to throw up.

Taking a deep breath, I steel myself and knock on the front door. It flies open, but it’s not Eddie standing there. It’s Benjamin.

“Hi,” I say, walking right in. “Sorry that took me a while. Is everything okay? Do you need to go right away?”

Without any warning, I’m in his arms. He kisses me deeply, pulling me against his chest as he does so. Warmth blooms in my lips and spreads down, sinking into my very toes.

Benjamin stops the kiss and presses a finger against my bottom lip. “I don’t have to go anywhere.”

Now I’m extraordinarily confused. “You said you needed me over here ASAP. I thought there was a work emergency or you needed to talk to me.”

Except, now, you’ve kissed me.

“The emergency is of a more…primal nature.”

My skin tingles as I catch his meaning. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Benjamin slowly nods, his eyes sweeping down my figure. “I see you still have that dress on.”

“I haven’t made it home yet; I met my roommate for dinner. Where is everyone?” I ask.

“Gone. And Mia is in bed.” Benjamin’s hands slide down my waist, one coming to rest softly on my hip as he takes my hand. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“Okay,” I rasp. My pulse pounds in my ears, and butterflies flutter in my stomach. So, what happened between us wasn’t a one-time thing.

That’s good, because I was afraid to even consider that possibility.

We creep upstairs and down the hallway, Benjamin’s hand on mine with each step. In his bedroom, a soft light glows in the corner. The bed is made, waiting for us.

At the sight of it, my stomach flips. It’s as if this afternoon never happened and Benjamin is seducing me for the first time ever.

He shuts the door behind us and wraps his arms around me from behind, nuzzling his face into my neck. I sigh against the touch, closing my eyes and losing myself in the sensation of his strong arms around me.

Benjamin’s fingers slowly walk around my waist, going down over my hips and thighs. I push back, thrusting my ass into his groin. The hard bulge there rubs against me, and it’s all I can do to not moan in anticipation.

“You need to take this off,” he instructs.

I nod, letting him lead me to the bed, where he halts me at the edge. His gaze is heated as he reaches around me and unzips the dress. I help him tug it over my head, and start to go for my bra strap, but he stops me.

“I undress you.”

There’s such authority in his voice. I swallow and nod. If he wants control, that’s fine with me.

Benjamin slides my panties off of—the same panties he pushed to the side earlier so that he could enter me. He unhooks my bra next, allowing it to fall to the floor.

My breasts have barely been exposed for a minute before his palms cover them. His grasp is strong, confident. Lips connect with the side of my neck, and Benjamin sucks there as he kneads my breasts.

I reach a palm behind me, searching for his thick girth. Its heat hits my hand first, and I run my fingers delicately over it. The touch makes it swell more, and I smile to myself.

Benjamin’s mouth goes lower, landing a kiss every inch or so. His lips trace a line down my shoulder, arm, and waist. At my hip, he comes to the front of me, where he gets down on his knees.

Spreading my legs, he buries his face between my thighs. His tongue is quick, giving me rapid little licks. The pleasure comes in quick hits, and I hold onto his shoulders, afraid that if I let go, I’ll burst into a million pieces and fly away.

He slows the pace down, and the strokes become more languid. I’m shaking, my legs trembling so hard it’s becoming difficult to stand up straight.

“I know…you said…you’re in charge,” I gasp. “But take your pants off.”

Benjamin looks up at me with a chuckle. “So commanding.”

“You best believe it.”

I guide him to standing, and we fall into each other once more, kissing passionately as I undo his belt buckle.

With his pants on the floor, I wrap my hand around his dick and get onto my knees. My mouth is watering from having Benjamin’s length so close, but, luckily, there’s no waiting.

I lick slowly around the tip, taking my time before wrapping my lips around it. His skin is velvety against the roof of my mouth. I bob my head, taking another inch of him in with each swallow. His tip hits the back of my throat before I expect it to, making me gag slightly.

I don’t stop, though. I have a hunger for this man, and even if I get my mouth on every inch of him, I doubt I’ll ever be sated.

I suck harder, Benjamin groans, and a tingle goes through me. The muscles between my legs tense, heat and liquid pooling there. I could suck on him forever, but he’s taking my shoulders and guiding me off of him and up, setting me on the bed.

I rest against the pillows and watch him undress. It’s the first time I’ve seen him naked, and the sight is enough to take my breath away. Biceps. Triceps. Abs. Pecs. He’s got them all and more.

Benjamin’s watching me watching him, a focused look on his face. He crawls onto the bed, pressing his forearms on either side of me. His face falls to mine, and the kiss manages to be somehow both tender and primal. Our hips are pressing together, and I don’t need any encouraging. My thighs are falling open; the painful pulsing there needs to end, and he’s the only one who can make that happen.

Instead of thrusting all the way into me, like he did this afternoon, he enters slowly, giving me just an inch. I whine and wiggle against him, begging for more.

Benjamin chuckles. “Eager, aren’t we?”

“Don’t tease me,” I breathe.

He kisses my nose. “If I do, it will only be to make your pleasure that much better.”

My chest swells at the sweet comment, but before I have time to think much about it, he pushes further into me. My walls stretch, adjusting to his width right away.

Benjamin slips a hand under my hip, angling me up toward him. The position sends his dick sliding right along my most sensitive spot. I cry out, but no one hears it. Just as he’s giving me pleasure, he’s swallowing my moans up.

He rocks into me with a steady and slow pace. The pleasure travels through me in waves, starting in my core and ending in my fingers and toes. I kiss him harder, cling to him with more need.

The waves become closer and closer, till there’s no space between them. I burst, riding the ecstasy into a place where there’s nothing but me and Benjamin: our hands, our lips.

His arm that’s under me pushes me tighter against him, and he pummels into me with a fresh energy. His groan tickles my ear as he releases deep inside me.

I’m still gasping for air when Benjamin rolls onto his back, bringing me with him. I land on his chest with a giggle.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” I murmur.

Sighing happily, I lay my head on his chest. There’s just a little bit of hair there—the perfect amount. I twine my finger around a piece and smile. My body is buzzing, and my heart is full. There’s nothing else in the whole world that I need.

Benjamin kisses the side of my face. His hands are running up and down my back, and I never want it to stop.

But it has to, I know. In a few minutes, I’ll need to get up and go home.

The thought makes my stomach and chest tighten. I don’t want to go.

Have I made a mistake? Benjamin and I haven’t talked about what’s happening between us, but if his track record is anything to go by, this isn’t a long-term thing.

“Thirsty?” he asks, his breath tickling my cheek.

“Yeah. A little.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I get off of him so he can go downstairs. Sitting alone in his room, in the bed we just went wild in makes me feel…strange. I’m too comfortable here.

Snatching up my bra, I start to put it on.

“What are you doing?”

Benjamin is in the doorway, a full glass of water in his hand.

“Just…getting dressed?”

“Oh.” He sets the water on the side table. “You don’t need to put those on. I have clothes you can sleep in.”

I try not to stare at him. “Um, okay.”

He goes to his dresser at the far end of the room and brings me some boxers and a white T-shirt. They smell like him, and they feel even better against my skin.

“You look good.” Benjamin smiles, putting on his own pajamas.

“I like wearing your clothes,” I admit.

With a growl, he falls into bed next to me. His arms go around me and I’m against his chest once more. Closing my eyes, I snuggle my backside up against him.

All I can think as I fall asleep is that this feels so right, it scares me a little.

Chapter 17

Benjamin

In the morning, she’s there before I even have to want her to be. Eyes still closed, I reach over and pull Jayne closer to me. Her soft body presses into the crook of mine, and we fit together like two puzzle pieces.

“Hi,” she murmurs sleepily.

I bury my face in her hair. She smells of sugar, me, and everything right in the world.

“What time is it?” Jayne asks.

“Who cares?” I whisper back. “You need to be at work or something?”

Jayne giggles, her butt pushing against me. Electricity shoots through me, and in a millisecond, I’m hard.

Jayne lets out a noise that’s a mix between a satisfied sigh and a groan.

“But what about you? Don’t you always go into the office on Saturday morning?”

“Yeah,” I admit, and then pause, thinking about it some.

My arms are wrapped tightly around her waist, and she fits so perfectly against me…I’d be an idiot to walk away from this.

“The good thing about running your own company,” I say slowly, after some consideration, “Is that you can take a day off whenever you want.” I smile and then add, “Kind of.”

“Kind of?” Jayne turns to look at me, and I see her profile and hair tangled from sleep.

“I’ll be putting in extra on Monday, but it’ll be worth it.”

“Worth it so you can do what?” she asks. I don’t know if she meant the question to be seductive or not, but it’s just that.

“How about I show you?”

I don’t give her a chance to answer. I’m on top of her, our hips pressing together and my lips taking hers.

I make the kiss slow, but don’t hold back on the pressure. Jayne tilts her face up toward mine, moaning softly into my mouth as I push my hands under her shirt. The fact that she’s wearing my clothes makes me even crazier.

In a strange way, it’s like those clothes mean I’ve claimed her. She’s mine.

I haven’t wanted a woman to be mine in a long time. And not in this way. This is something different.

Jayne drags her lips away from mine, and when she speaks, her breath washes against my cheek. “You should lock the door.”

“I’m one step ahead of you,” I answer in between kisses on her neck. “I did it last night.”

“Oh, really?” Jayne grins up at me. The morning light is casting an ethereal glow on her face. For a second, I’m dumbstruck.

Leaning back from her, I sit up so I can better take her in. Messy hair. Pink cheeks. A few freckles across her nose that I never noticed before, but that the bright light now brings out.

“What?” Jayne questions.

“You look damn good right now; that’s what.”

Jayne laughs as she presses her hands to her face. “You don’t have to say that.”

“It’s true.” I grin. “Not that you don’t always look good.”

A jiggling on the doorknob makes us both look over.

“Daddy!” Mia calls. “It’s Mia!”

Jayne’s eyes go wide; at the same time, she puts her fingers to her lips to suppress a laugh.

“Who else would it be?” I whisper to Jayne, painfully aware of the need still pounding in my veins.

Looks like I’m going to have to wait a little longer to meet my needs.

“Let me in,” Mia says.

It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but I climb off of Jayne.

“Go get dressed, honey. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“But—”

“Go get dressed,” I repeat firmly. “And then we can make pancakes.”

Her gasp is so loud it can be heard through the door. “Yay!” she squeals, running down the hallway.

Jayne is quickly getting out of bed. “I guess this is my chance to slip out. Did you, um…am I coming into work today?”

She gives me an uncomfortable look over her shoulder.

My chest constricts. Fuck, this just got awkward.

“You mean you’ll go downstairs, wait in your car for a few minutes, and then come inside like you’ve just shown up?” I clarify.

Jayne’s eyes dart around as she thinks about it. “Yeah?”

My mouth is dry. “I’m taking the day off,” I slowly say.

She nods and tucks hair behind her ear, going to grab her clothes. “Right.”

“But you should stay. If you want.”

“Oh.” Jayne freezes with her clothes in her lap.

“Not as Mia’s nanny. As a friend.”

How do I explain to her that I can’t stand to have her leave? That I want her to spend the whole day with us? It doesn’t matter if we’re naked in bed together or making breakfast—although I’m hoping to get a chance to engage in that first activity before the day is over.

I want to spend time with Jayne. It’s that simple.

But I can’t really explain that feeling to her, because I can’t explain it to myself.

There haven’t been many women that I wanted around after the initial rush was over. Mia’s mom was one of them, and that relationship was definitely not perfect. We wouldn’t have stayed together for those few years if we hadn’t have had a baby.

I did it for Mia. That’s the truth. And it blew up in my face. Hayden loved Mia, and maybe she loved me in her own way, but even love hadn’t been enough.

After I stood at my partner’s funeral with my bereaved two-year-old child in my arms, I promised myself things would be different. I wouldn’t let myself get suckered into a relationship simply because it was exciting. I wouldn’t put my heart or Mia’s heart on the line.

But that doesn’t change the way I see Jayne. She’s not like the other women I’ve been with. She doesn’t want anything from me other than my company. She likes Mia. She likes me. Things are simple.

And that makes me want her in a way I can’t comprehend.

Jayne is still looking at me, making no move to change. I allow my gaze to linger on her body.

“You look good in my clothes.”

She smiles. “I think you already said that.”

“Because it’s damn true,” I breathe. Then, before I can lose courage, I add, “Stay. We’ll have breakfast and then do something together. We can go to the park or the aquarium or something.”

“Mia’s been asking about the aquarium all week.” She’s still smiling. “But I didn’t take her because she said she was going with you.”

I nodded. “And I’ll take her. But I want you to come with, too.”

Jayne bites slowly on her bottom lip. “Okay.”

“Okay,” I affirm, nodding. “It’s a date.”

Her cheeks turn pink. “With a six-year-old chaperoning us.”

“Right,” I laugh.

My heart pounds, and my whole body is burning again. I resist reaching out and touching her, though, because if I start doing that, I won’t be able to stop.

“Daddy!” Mia’s knocking on the door again. “I’m dressed.”

Jayne is dressing whiplash quick, and I can’t help but watch her out of the corner of my eye. Still, no touching. That would get me into trouble.

“Go brush your teeth,” I tell Mia.

She sighs impatiently. “Okay.”

Her footsteps thump away down the hall.

“Now?” Jayne asks.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go downstairs and pretend like I’ve been working on breakfast for hours.”

“Good idea,” I chuckle. As we walk to the door, I can’t stop myself from lightly squeezing her hip and landing a kiss on her mouth. Her scent, her taste, the feel of her skin…it’s intoxicating.

“That’s dangerous,” she whispers against my lips.

“You’re telling me.”

She scurries quietly down the hallway while I wait outside of my door for Mia. Luckily, my daughter is obsessed when it comes to getting her teeth clean. She’ll stand on the little step stool in her bathroom and stare into the mirror as she brushes each tooth over three times, always afraid she’s missed a spot.

“I’m ready,” Mia announces after another minute. She flies down the hall and bangs into my legs, where she clings to my waist and looks up at me with a smiling face.

“Would you like to go to the aquarium after breakfast?” I ask.

Her eyes widen. “For real?”

“Yes,” I chuckle at her choice of slang. “For real.”

“Yeah!” Grabbing my hand, she pulls me to the gate at the top of the stairs. “I don’t need this anymore, Daddy. I’m bigger now. I never go down. I know I could fall.”

“Let’s keep it up.”

“No,” she whines as we walk down the stairs hand-in-hand. “Why?”

“Okay,” I concede. “Maybe we’ll take it down. We’ll see.”

“Who’s that?” Mia asks as we enter the hallway. She’s referring to the sounds coming from the kitchen: the fridge opening, dishes clinking. “Ray?” she calls.

“Go see.”

She runs ahead of me, and I can hear her gasp even though I’m still walking down the hall.

“Jayne!” she squeals. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

I enter the kitchen and find the two of them hugging.

“I came to see you,” Jayne says as she straightens up. She catches my eye over Mia’s head, and my temperature rockets.

“Is Jayne coming to see the fish?” Mia asks, turning to me.

“I don’t know.” I cross my arms and try not to smile, but I’m a shitty actor. “Would you like to come, Jayne?”

“That sounds wonderful.” She grins back. “Now, how about we make some pancakes?”

Mia takes a seat at the table. “How did you know that’s what Daddy and I want?”

“I don’t know,” Jayne answers, giving me a wink as she pulls eggs from the fridge. “I guess we’re just in sync like that.”

“Yeah, we are,” I breathe, unable to take my eyes off of her.

Chapter 18

Jayne

“Oh…my…God,” Amy hisses through her front teeth. “This place is insane.” She goes to the kitchen’s back windows. “Who is that out there?”

I look over her shoulder, finding Eddie trimming a bush next to his house. “That’s Eddie, the butler.”

She gives me an incredulous look, even though I long ago told her everything about Benjamin’s house. “People still have butlers?”

I scoff. “That was my first thought when I met him.”

“What does he do?”

“Um, he basically tells other people what to do, I think. Like, the housekeeper and the chef. Oh, and he runs errands for Benjamin sometimes.”

“Nice. Sign me up.”

In my pocket, my phone beeps, signaling that it’s dying.

“Do you have my charger?”

“Yeah. Here it is.”

Luckily, Amy’s route to her Friday afternoon class takes her just a few blocks away from Benjamin’s place, so when I asked her—no, begged her to bring my phone charger by, she was here in no time at all.

“Where’s Mia?” Amy asks, walking into the dining room and looking around in interest.

“School.”

“Oh. Right.” She swivels on her heel to face me. “I’d be an awful nanny. I don’t even know where kids go all day long.”

“You’d be good,” I laugh. “You’d be fun.”

“So, have you had any more…” She waggles her eyebrows.

“What?”

“You know…” Amy lowers her voice. “Sex on countertops?”

I bite down on my bottom lip, but it does nothing to stop my smile. “No countertops, no.”

I keep my voice low. As far as I know, no other members of staff are around to hear me, but talking about Benjamin while he’s not here feels a little weird.

“Damn it.”

“But we did have a nice time in the hot tub the other night.” I give her that one tidbit.

Amy makes a face. “You’re not supposed to have sex in—”

“I never said we had sex. There are other things you can do in a hot tub, you know.” I stick my tongue out at her before shaking my dead phone in the air. “I need to plug this in.”

Amy follows me into the living room. “Seriously, you have the most amazing life.”

“I know.”

“Have you and Benjamin talked any about your relationship?”

I cringe as I plug my phone charger into the wall. “What’s to talk about?”

“Everything.”

I hear her plop down on the couch, and I turn to face her. “It’s—”

“Fun. I know.” Amy leans over the couch’s armrest. “But I know you, Jayne. I’ve seen the way you’ve been acting the last week.” She pauses, then whispers, “You’re falling in love with him.”

Her words are like a punch to the gut.

“What?” I ask, like that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.

Amy narrows her eyes the slightest bit, and it’s supposed to be a humorous expression, but I can tell she’s genuinely a little annoyed with me.

“Any girl would be insane to not fall for this guy. He has everything.”

“He does,” I sigh.

“Aha! There it is.” She points an accusatory finger.

“There’s what?”

“The look on your face.”

“Don’t you have to be at class?”

“I can be a few minutes late.”

I cross my arms and stare her down. “Why are we talking about this?” I huff.

“You know why.”

I run my hands through my loose hair and sigh. “It's fine. Really.”

“But what happens when—”

“Please don't.”

This conversation is getting increasingly aggravating. I don't want to think about what's going to happen between me and Benjamin. I've been trying my hardest all week to keep the future out of my mind.

Right now, things are good. I just got out of the service. I haven't even dated anyone else yet. Do I want a relationship? Yes. At some point I do.

Do I want it with Benjamin? Maybe.

Okay, yes. Fine. I want that.

But I don't know what he's searching for. It may be that the smart thing right now would be to back off, but I've already gotten in too deep. I think about him all the time. I can't end things with him, because I can't lose this job.

And I can't lose him.

So, maybe this makes me a stupid girl, but I'm willing to go a little longer without putting labels on anything.

“Everything is fine,” I tell Amy, smiling at her through clenched teeth.

She sighs and stands. “Okay. Let me know when you want to start that dating profile.”

“See you at home,” I mutter.

She's gone not more than ten minutes when the door leading to the garage opens.

“Hello?” I call, going into the side hallway. “Eddie?”

“Is that who you want to see?” Benjamin’s seductive voice asks. He steps out of his office and catches me around the waist.

“You're home early,” I answer, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Mm.” He nuzzles his face against my neck, the stubble scraping my skin. “I thought I'd do a little work from home. Maybe you can, ah, watch me?”

“Watch you?” I giggle.

“Right.” Benjamin loosens his tie. “Wearing nothing but your bra and panties, I mean.”

“Ah.” I walk my fingers up his chest. “That actually sounds like not a bad idea.”

“Good.” He takes hold of my hand. Instead of reaching to push my skirt down, though, like I expect, he pulls me in for a deep and warm kiss.

“I know it's only been half a day,” Benjamin murmurs against my lips, “but I fucking missed you.”

The words send ripples of every kind of need possible through me.

“How long do we have till Mia's home?” Benjamin asks.

“Let's see.” I turn his arm so I can look at his watch.

“Shoot. I have to go pick her up in fifteen.”

How did the afternoon pass by so quickly?

“Too bad.” Benjamin rubs my lower back. “Looks like we'll have to be sneaking into the closets from now on.”

“What do you mean?”

“Winter break,” he explains.

Winter break. Duh. There's another thing I haven't been paying attention to.

“That's right… So, um, will you be working over the holidays?”

Now that we're talking about break, I feel a thread of anxiety winding through me. Christmas is my favorite time of the year, and although I sometimes spend it at my parents’ house, doing that never goes over very well. I'd much rather spend the holidays with my friends.

“I’ll be working fewer hours, but I’ll still need you on for the regular schedule—outside of the big dates, of course.” Benjamin tilts his head to the side, considering something. “Is that okay?”

“Yes,” I answer brightly. “That’s great.”

“What are your plans for Christmas?”

I shrug. He still has his arms around me, and it feels so good, I keep getting distracted. It’s really hard to remember any English with him touching me.

“I don’t have a plan,” I admit. “My parents have invited me to spend it with them, but I don’t know…that usually means I have to endure a whole day of hearing about everything I’ve done wrong with my life.”

Benjamin’s lips purse at that, but he doesn’t say anything. Other than that night downstairs in the theater, we haven’t really talked about my parents, and that’s just fine with me.

“So, Amy and I will be hanging out some. Except, she’s going home for a few days, and…” I trail off. What am I doing on Christmas? Have I set myself up to spend the holiday alone this year?

“Come with us.”

I stare at Benjamin. “Go with you where?”

“I’m taking Mia on a snowboarding trip to Aspen. We went last year and she loved it.”

“She snowboards?” I smile, thinking about tiny, girly Mia hitting the slopes. Somehow, it doesn’t surprise me. She may like pink and frilly things, but she can also be pretty fierce.

“Like a beast,” Benjamin answers with a grin, and I laugh.

His face turns serious. “I want you to come with us when we go next week. Mia would love it…and so would I.”

The intensity in his statement can’t be ignored. I swallow hard, looking back into his dark eyes. His gaze has me tethered to him; I wouldn’t be able to break away if I wanted to.

“That would be…nice,” I breathe.

“Have you ever been snowboarding?”

“No.”

Benjamin pulls me closer, nudging his hips up against mine.

“I can offer you some private instruction.”

I throw my head back in laughter. “Sure. Offer accepted.”

“How long did you say you have before you need to get Mia?”

“Fifteen.” I take a look at his watch again. “Actually, now, ten.”

“Ten minutes…” He trails off, his eyebrow seductively rising.

I see where this is going. “That’s not very long.”

“You doubt my abilities?”

“I just know you as a man who always takes his time.” I loop my arms over his shoulders. “It’s one of the things I like about you.”

Benjamin emits a low growl. “How about I show you another side of me?”

“In…” I peek at his watch. “Nine minutes and counting?”

“Dare me.”

My need for him is growing, and I know instinctively that I wouldn’t even say no to two wild minutes with him.

“Fine.” I grin. “I dare you.”

“Dare accepted.”

Benjamin picks me up and puts me right over his shoulder, and I shriek as he carries me into his office and kicks the door closed behind us.

Chapter 19

Jayne

I try not to stare at the interior of the jet, but it’s hard. Really hard.

Mia rushes past me and plops onto one of the cream-colored leather seats, like being surrounded by this kind of opulence is no big deal.

Which, to her, I have to remind myself, isn’t.

“Who’s ready for the best snowboarding trip ever?” Benjamin asks from behind me.

“Me! Me!” Mia yelps.

Benjamin touches my waist as he goes by, and our eyes connect. A shiver runs down into my toes. This has been happening a lot lately. One touch or look from him, and I lose all sense of who I am or what I’m doing.

“Buckle up,” Benjamin tells Mia. He bends down to help her with her seat belt, and I take the opportunity to further check out the private jet.

Benjamin hasn’t gone on any long trips since I’ve met him, but I know that he uses this jet for when he does. It has twelve seats in it, plus a long couch. There’s a minibar, a fridge, and a flat screen mounted at the front. The stewardess has already taken our bags and put them away.

The stewardess.

That’s another thought I can’t wrap my head around. Do she and the pilot work for Benjamin full time? Or does he hire whoever is available when he needs to make a trip?

This whole world is so foreign to me, but I’m not going to ask those kinds of questions. We’ll only be at the lodge for a couple nights, and are coming back on Christmas Eve, so I want to make the best of it.

“Have a seat,” Benjamin says, patting the chair next to him.

Smiling, I do as I’m bidden, which isn’t hard.

Mia already has her books out, and is turning pages and quietly reading out loud. Benjamin loops an arm over the back of my chair, and we share a quick look.

It’s the closest he’s ever come to touching me around Mia, and I’m trying not to read into it. I’m sure he hasn’t said anything to her about the two of us—why would he? I’m the nanny. In her eyes, that’s how it should be right now.

I lean past Benjamin and catch a peek at her. Her little legs are swinging over the side of her seat and she’s switching up her voice for the different characters. A rush of love fills my chest.

Mia is an amazing child. Honestly, at times I don’t know who I’m becoming more attached to—her, or her father.

The jet takes off within a few minutes, and once Mia grows tired of her books, we spend the duration of the two-and-a-half-hour flight watching a movie and playing games like I spy.

When the stewardess announces that we’ll be landing soon, I take a look out the window and can hardly believe my eyes. I knew we were flying somewhere with snow, but now that I’m here, it’s crazy. It’s like we’ve entered another world.

Just like with boarding the plane, exiting it is super fast and simple. There are no other passengers to wait for, no baggage to pick up in the airport, and we’re off in no time at all, descending the steps into what—compared to San Bravado—feels like freezing air.

I shrink inside of my parka and hurry to the waiting car. In between this and the jet, I’m starting to feel like royalty.

In the back of the car, Mia buckles herself into the booster seat that’s between me and Benjamin. “Look at the snow.” She points at the mountains in the distance.

“It’s beautiful.”

Benjamin settles in on Mia’s other side, and we’re off. The car takes us right through Aspen’s downtown, along cute, tree-lined streets with brownstone and brick buildings.

It’s the lodge that really takes the cake, though. It’s set at the base of the mountains, with more windows than I can count. The car drops us off at the front door, and before I can go to grab my own suitcase, someone else is taking care of it, and Benjamin is taking my hand.

“Come on.” He smiles.

I grin back at him, allowing myself to be guided into a lavish lobby. While Benjamin checks in, Mia and I inspect the taxidermy bear by the fireplace and dare each other to stand close to it.

“It’s creepy.” Mia wraps her arms around herself and shivers.

“Don’t worry. It won’t eat you.” I creep closer to her. “But I might.”

I close the distance between us with a leap, wrapping my arms around her and sweeping her off the floor. Mia shrieks in pleasure, and I bury my face in her armpit, pretending to munch on her.

“You’re a yummy snack,” I tell her.

Over her head, I catch Benjamin watching us. At some point, he finished checking in and wandered over. There’s a look in his eyes that I can’t peg. Longing? Wistful happiness?

A moment later and it’s gone.

“Let’s go see our rooms,” he says, springing into action and leading the way to the elevators.

The suite he’s rented for us doesn’t disappoint. It’s more like an apartment than anything else. With a foyer, a living room, a little kitchen nook, and two bedrooms, it has to have close to twice the square footage of Amy’s apartment. Making a mental note to send her a video tour of the place later, I follow Mia into the bigger bedroom, where she’s already jumping on the bed.

“Whose bed is this?” she asks, hair flying around her head to create a halo. “It’s mine, right?”

Benjamin comes in from talking to the porter who’s delivered our bags. “You get the other one. The bed is lower in there.”

“Aww.” She stops jumping and gasps. “Oh, no! There are only two beds.”

I give Benjamin a sidelong glance as he crosses his arms, addressing Mia.

“I’ll be fine on the couch, pumpkin.”

When Mia’s not looking, he winks my way. My pulse quickens.

“So, what now?” Benjamin asks. “Are we going to stay in here and watch TV all afternoon or are we going to go snowboarding?”

“Snowboarding!” Mia and I both cry out at the same time.

We get changed for the adventure, with me pulling on the outerwear Benjamin bought me just for the occasion. Bundled up, we head downstairs, where we’re given a ride to the equipment shack up the mountain a bit.

The first thing I learn about snowboarding is that it’s even harder than it looks. At least for me, anyway. I’m pretty fit, and I’ve done a number of sports in my life, from swimming to soccer. One thing I’ve never been great at, though, is balance.

“Bend your knees,” Mia instructs.

We’re at the beginner’s slope, and I’ve already eaten snow twice. The average age in this spot is much closer to Mia’s than mine, but I don’t care. I’m having a blast with the two people I want to be around most.

“Careful.” Benjamin laughs and takes hold of my elbow.

“Thanks.” I look up at him, and even though we’re both wearing sunglasses, there’s something strong about the connection.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mia watching us, a smile on her face…a knowing smile?

No, I tell myself. She’s too little to understand what might be happening between Benjamin and me. Although, she has talked about her mother before, and about how she’d like a “second mommy” one day.

Does that mean she sees me as a candidate for that role?

Scooting away from Benjamin—as much as my board lets me—I push those thoughts away. I’m Mia’s nanny. Benjamin’s…whatever it is we are. It’s too dangerous for me to think other ways.

And yet, here we are, on a trip together. A trip in which it really doesn’t feel like I’m the nanny. It’s more like I’ve come along as a girlfriend.

Again, I know reading between the lines only leads to trouble. Once you start doing that, disappointments and misunderstandings are right around the corner.

For now, I need to focus on this moment. The sun is shining and the snow is pristine. I have a great, gorgeous man and his adorable little girl by my side. I need to enjoy life as it comes at me.

Chapter 20

Jayne

The flames in the middle of the table kick to life, and Mia and I both clap happily.

Benjamin chuckles and lowers his lips close to my ear. “I don’t know who’s more excited,” he whispers huskily, “you or her.”

“I know, right?” I smile at him. For good measure, I let my eyes linger on his face before giving him a wink. His pupils dilate, and I know I’m having the intended effect on him.

“Here are the s’mores fixings,” the waiter announces, setting a plate piled high with marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers on the table.

The table is on a patio that’s closed off with glass and warmed by tall, big heaters. On the other side of the glass, Aspen’s lights sparkle. It’s a gorgeous sight, and every time I look at it, I melt a little bit more.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m sore,” I announce, taking one of the metal skewers and popping a marshmallow on the end. “Especially my butt,” I add, because I know it’ll make Mia laugh, and Benjamin think about massaging my sore muscles.

As predicted, Mia giggles, scrunching her nose in only that way little kids can. “Your butt?”

“So sore,” I say with as serious of a face as I can muster.

“You did fall down a lot,” Benjamin points out.

“Hey.” I lightly elbow him in the side. “I bet you fell down a lot your first time out there.”

He holds his hands up. “True. I did.”

Mia laughs more. “Was your butt sore, Daddy?”

“My butt was sorer than any butt has ever been in all of history.”

“Wow.” I give Mia a flabbergasted look. “That’s serious. I hope he went to see a butt doctor about that.”

Noticing my marshmallow is getting dangerously close to burning, I pull it away from the flames and slip it onto a graham cracker. After adding chocolate and another cracker, I serve it to Mia with a dramatic flourish.

“Madam,” I say.

She’s already too busy eating to respond, chocolate and melted marshmallow running from her mouth and through her fingers. Under the table, where she can’t see it, Benjamin puts his hand on my leg.

I glance over at him, and, again, that look is there; the unreadable one I’ve seen several times today.

My breath hitches in my chest. Is he feeling all the things that I am?

I swallow and try to calm my heartbeat. “Do you want a marshmallow?”

“I don’t know if that will be sweet enough for me,” he whispers.

I inhale sharply, my stomach doing flips. “Oh.”

“I want another one,” Mia says.

I clear my throat and look quickly away from Benjamin. His hand in still on my leg, and I’m worried that I’m about to faint from desire.

“Coming right up,” I tell Mia.

A half hour later, I’m opening the door to our suite so Benjamin can carry Mia to her bedroom. She’s fast asleep, so we work as a team, doing the best we can to change her into pajamas and brush her teeth.

I hold back giggles as he puts a toothbrush between her lips and scrubs around.

“I can’t believe she’s not waking up,” I whisper.

“She’s exhausted,” he agrees.

Eons from waking up, Mia starts snoring. Benjamin finishes the teeth-brushing job best he can and lays her gently in the bed, tucking a blanket around her before we creep out of the room.

“Drink?” he asks, already walking for the minibar in the kitchen.

“Yes, please.” I kick off my shoes and curl up on the couch, my eyes drifting to the windows. “Oh, look. It’s snowing.”

Though it’s dark out, the thick flakes are illuminated by the lights of the town.

Benjamin is next to me, handing me a glass, and I take it without fully looking. At the feel of an ice-cold glass, I flinch.

Benjamin laughs. “Chilly?”

“Eggnog,” I state, looking at it. “Nice. Is it adult eggnog?”

“Is any other kind worth it?” He sits next to me and holds his own glass up. “Cheers.”

“What are we toasting to?”

His eyes drift toward the ceiling as he thinks about it. “To the best weekend I’ve had in a very long time.”

“Same here,” I murmur.

We make eye contact, and I can’t help but smile as our glasses clink together. The eggnog is cold going down my throat, but within a matter of seconds, the brandy is warming me from the inside out.

“Thank you,” I tell him, setting my glass on the coffee table and adjusting my weight on the cushion.

“For what?”

“For this entire trip. I know it’s only been one day, but it’s been amazing.”

His eyes never leaving my face, he takes hold of my legs and guides them so that they’re stretched out across his lap. For a second, I feel again like I’m coming undone. The simple act of us relaxing like this is such a sweet one—something that couples do.

But I’m not going to bring that up. This trip is not the time to talk about our relationship. Things only just started between us. Who knows where the road will take us. If in six months, we’re still going on this way, then yes, it will be time to have “the talk.”

For now, though, everything is about enjoying the moment.

Take that, Amy.

“What are you smiling about?” Benjamin asks.

I laugh. “Guess.”

His eyes light up. “Me?”

“If you want to be that presumptuous, yes.”

“Hah. Okay then.” He puts his drink down next to mine and tickles my side.

“Stop,” I giggle, swatting at his hand.

His smile flickers the slightest bit. “You’re spending Christmas day with us, right?”

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from smiling too wide, but it’s no use. With Amy visiting her family for the week, and with things always uncertain with my parents, I’m looking at a holiday alone if I’m not with the two of them.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” I quietly tell him.

Benjamin beams. “Good.”

He’s reaching for my waist, and before I know it, I’m in his lap, straddling his legs.

One hand stays on my waist while the other presses gently against the back of my neck. I lower my head toward his, and my hair falls forward, creating a screen around our faces, blocking the rest of the world out.

I wait for him to kiss me, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, we stay as we are, our foreheads pressed together. Benjamin runs his thumb across the back of my neck. Every nerve in my body is on high alert. He could move the most incremental amount possible, and I would feel it.

Finally, he kisses me. When it happens, it’s like he’s using his whole body. His back arches up toward me, and his fingers splay against my skin. I’m keenly aware of everything about him.

Benjamin kisses me deeper, and I lean against his chest, lifting myself up some. He takes the opportunity to slide his hands down my hips to cup my butt.

The kiss becomes hungrier, but stays slow. We search each other’s mouths, desperate to find the best parts of each other, but we also know we have all the time in the world. This passion is ours for the taking, and there’s no rush.

Still kissing, Benjamin hooks his arms around me and stands. I wrap my legs around his waist as he walks us across the living room. Luckily, it’s a short distance to the main bedroom, and we don’t bump into anything on the way to the bed.

Benjamin lays me gently down before shutting and locking the door. His eyes are ravenous, dancing as if they were reflecting flames.

He makes his way over to me, and I scoot up the middle of the bed. Just as my head hits the pillows, Benjamin comes down on top of me. His fingers lace between mine, and our lips sweep together.

The kiss go on and on, making my head spin. Heat boils in my core, spreading through my body until I can take it no longer. Breaking my hands from Benjamin’s, I tear at his clothes.

He sits up, but instead of the knowing smirk I expect, he wears that intense look again. It makes me suck in a harsh breath.

Pulling off his sweater and shirt at the same time, he tosses them to the floor. I start to go for my own sweater, but he leans back in and takes both my hands, locking them into place against the bedspread.

“I’ll do that,” he whispers.

I just nod.

He’s true to his word, but takes much more time undressing me than he did himself. He unzips my jeans slowly, working them gently down my hips, over my calves, and off my feet. My panties get the same treatment, along with my sweater, my shirt, and my bra.

When I’m left laying naked in front of him, he runs his palms in smooth, wide circles over my torso and hips. It’s as if he’s committing the feel of my body to memory.

I squirm under his hands, reaching up and trailing my fingers down his abs before hooking them in his belt loops.

“Take these off,” I command.

He grins. “If that’s what you want.”

“What do you think?”

Benjamin holds my gaze as he stands and kicks his pants and boxers off. Freed from his clothes, he’s back on the bed in an instant. His arms go under me, and I wrap my own around his neck, pressing my whole body to him, trying to get as close to him as possible.

Benjamin’s kiss takes over my mouth before going lower, his lips dragging down my throat and across my breasts. He pulls a nipple into his mouth, biting it slightly with his teeth before letting it go. I groan against the intense sensations, grasping at his hair and bucking my hips up against him.

His mouth and hands move to my stomach, kissing, caressing. Down my hips they go, pushing my legs open.

Benjamin slowly tastes me, taking his time licking and sucking. His touches are feather light, but they bring an intensity that makes me shudder with pleasure. Heat ricochets through me, and I explode against his mouth.

I’m still shaking as he clambers up my body and comes in for another kiss. My still-hungry tongue runs across his. My heart is so full, I want to cry.

Our hands are everywhere. Though we know each other’s bodies well at this point, tonight feels different. We’re in uncharted territory, sailing on a passion that’s unprecedented.

Moving as one, we flip over onto our sides. My leg ends up flung over Benjamin’s hip, and I snuggle in close to his chest. The tip of his hard dick pushes against my folds. I’m aching to have it in me, but I’m not ready for it. Not quite yet.

Kissing him, I wrap my fingers around his length. It pulses in my hand, adding to my constantly building desire. As our mouths take over, I stroke him slowly at first, before building up the pace.

A bead of pre-cum wets my finger, and he jerks against my palm. I know it’s getting harder for him to wait, but still, he doesn’t say anything. He just twists his fingers in my hair and kisses me back.

Waves of warmth and relaxation crash over me. Combine them with the heady need, and I’m shaken by everything happening.

Without warning, Benjamin seizes my waist and, with one small move, sets me against his dick. I gasp in surprise as he glides into me, but then I’m too overcome by the new sensations to do anything else.

He takes his time, slowly driving into me as our mouths tell their own story. The heat from our bodies rises up and envelops us. Each thrust Benjamin makes is smooth and focused. I can feel every ridge and silky inch of him. My channel squeezes him tighter, drawing him in, memorizing it all.

Benjamin breaks his mouth from mine, placing it instead on the sensitive spot beneath my ear. It’s too much to handle. Guttural sounds are coming from me, and I’m shaking like a leaf.

Holding me close, he flips us over partway, so that I’m on my back and he’s on top of me. Folding my knee up toward my stomach, he gains deeper entry. All my muscles seem to melt, going beyond resistance and allowing Benjamin to have whatever it is he wants.

I seize his lips with mine and wrap my legs around his waist. He hasn’t picked up the pace at all, instead keeping to that lethargic rhythm. Pleasure slowly stacks deep in my core, one building block at a time, until suddenly I’m on the edge.

My release ripples through me, drawn out and shuddering. My mouth falls open in a silent cry, and Benjamin closes his lips over mine, kissing me passionately as he takes me to a place I’ve never been.

I’m still riding the waves when he tightens against me. His grunts grow harsher; I can feel he’s getting close.

Pressing my palms against his lower back, I urge him on, pushing him deeper into me. With a hot exhale, he explodes.

Stars hover in my blurry vision. Closing my eyes, I drop my head back and press the back of my hand to my forehead. I’m breathing like I just ran a marathon, and Benjamin seems to be in the same state.

He lays down next to me and pulls me against his chest. A light kiss hits my hairline, and I smile to myself.

We stay as we are, waiting for our breathing patterns to calm down. The world inside of Benjamin’s arms is warm and safe. Perfect.

If there’s anything that could make this moment better, I don’t know what it is.

“Cold?” he murmurs.

I shrug against him. “A little.”

With one arm still locked around me, he tosses a blanket over us and firmly tucks it around my side.

“Thanks,” I sigh happily.

Benjamin strokes my arm and kisses my head again.

The suite is quiet, only our even breathing filling the space. I stifle a yawn but can’t stop my eyelids from growing heavier.

I feel like my whole being has been turned inside out, reworked, and put back in place. Benjamin has reset me in a way I don’t understand.

But as I sink deeper into unconsciousness, one image stays with me: I’m down the rabbit hole, now, and I’m in serious danger of getting lost in here forever.

Chapter 21

Benjamin

I'm the first to wake up. It's odd to open my eyes to a quiet room, and at first, I'm confused. As I blink and roll over, images of the previous day come back to me.

Mia must be still sleeping on account of exhaustion.

Apparently, it's the same for Jayne.

She’s lying on her side next to me, hands tucked against her chest, which is slowly rising and falling with each breath. A lock of hair has fallen across her cheek, and I gingerly push it back, being careful not to wake her. Memories from last night wash over me. Jayne's taste. Her touch. The way her body melded to mine.

I can almost be convinced we were made for each other.

But do I really believe in that stuff?

I don't know. I've never given the subject much thought. I loved Mia's mother, but we ended up together more out of practicality than undying devotion.

Sitting up against the headboard, I look out the window. Last night's snowfall has stopped, and bright light pushes its way through the curtains. It's going to be another amazing day on the slopes.

I smile, thinking about how much fun the three of us had out there. Likely, today will possess the same tone.

And then what?

The thought barrels into me out of nowhere.

What comes next?

The three of us will return home, and everything will carry on as usual. Mia will go to school and me to work. Jayne will…

Jayne.

She grabs my attention again. I know that as much as I might not want to admit it, things changed last night. Our relationship went to another level.

At the same time that I'm flying from the emotions of it, there's a sickening feeling in my gut. I want to find something long term, and I want Mia to have a mom. But that's always been a "someday" thing. Something I figured would happen when I made time for it. These flings I've had with the nannies—and other women for that matter—are supposed to be casual fun.

Whatever is happening between me and Jayne, it's unprecedented…and it's happening really, really fast.

Noise comes from in the main area, and I get out of bed and snatch one of the robes hanging on the back of the door. Hearing Mia has me thinking of the main reason I shouldn't rush into anything serious; my little girl is already growing close to Jayne. If we start officially dating, what kind of message will that send?

What if I'm misreading what's happening, and that connection isn't really there at all? If I let Mia see Jayne as my girlfriend and then we break up, she'll be crushed. It'll be twice as bad as all the times the previous nannies left.

When Jayne started with us, I promised myself I wouldn’t hurt Mia again. I have to stay true to that.

Going out into the living room, I find Mia with her nose pressed against the window. She turns at the sound of me, eyes wide.

"Daddy! I want to go snowboarding!"

"We will," I promise her.

"Now?"

"Soon. You need to have breakfast first."

"Aw."

"Don't," I chide. With the worries running through my head, I'm more on edge than usual. “It’s not up for discussion.”

“Okay,” she mutters, looking at her feet as she goes to sit on the couch.

My chest tightens at the sight. It’s the day before Christmas Eve; it’s supposed to be the happiest time of the year.

“Hey.” I crouch down next to her so we can be eye to eye. “How about room service? Would that be fun? We can have breakfast sent up, and you can eat in your pajamas.”

Mia’s eyes light up. “Do they have pancakes?”

“I’m sure they do.”

“Chocolate chip ones? With whipped cream?”

“Let’s find out.” I grab the room service menu off the table and hand it to her. She probably can’t read every word on it, but I’m pretty sure she knows pancakes when she sees them.

A door creaks behind me, and I glance over to see Jayne. She must have woken up right after me, because she’s already dressed in jeans and a tight shirt. A lump forms in my throat at the sight of her, and I quickly make myself look away.

“Good morning,” she says.

“We’re getting room service!” Mia says excitedly. She doesn’t even look up from the menu, which is good. I don’t want her wondering why Jayne and I have come out of the same bedroom.

“Sounds nice,” Jayne comments, taking a seat next to Mia.

“And then we’re snowboarding.”

“Ouch.” Jayne makes a face. “I’m still sore from yesterday…” Her eyes catch mine, and I see the hidden message there. Just like that, my desire is firing on all cylinders.

I turn to the window, needing to break the eye contact. “Looks like a good day for it.”

Mia giggles. “Jayne, you just have to snowboard more, and then one day you won’t be so sore.”

“I’m pretty sure falling on my butt will always make me sore.”

Mia laughs harder. “I want pancakes. What do you want?”

“Hmm. Let me think…fruit, probably. And some eggs.”

“That’s too healthy!”

“Oh, is that a crime?”

Mia squeals in that way that lets me know she’s being tickled. I stay standing at the window, looking down at the town. My pulse is roaring in my ears, and it feels like the walls are steadily closing in.

“Benjamin?” Jayne asks. “Should we order you something?”

I clear my throat and turn around. “I’m fine.”

“Nothing?”

Mia’s already grabbing the hotel phone. She randomly pushes a button, and Jayne takes it from her without even looking. God, she’s so good at this nanny thing. She’s so good at everything.

Jayne’s brows push together, and she frowns the slightest bit. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and she’s sexy without even trying to be.

What would happen if I just gave in now? If I threw all caution to the wind and said, “Fuck it, let’s do this”?

A pain pierces my temple, and I close my eyes as I press my fingertips to it.

“Benjamin?” Jayne asks, sounding worried.

I force my eyes open. “You know, I think I’m going to go for a walk.”

Mia clambers onto the couch, where she sits on her knees. “I wanna go!”

“No, honey,” I answer quickly. “You stay here with Jayne.”

Simultaneous hurt crosses both of their faces. I could kick myself for being such an ass.

“You need to have breakfast,” I quickly say, trying to make it seem like that’s the reason I don’t want them to come with. “You both need to eat. I’ll be back later, and then we can all go snowboarding together.”

“Okay.”

Mia is moving on already, pulling out a book from under the coffee table and looking at it with interest. Jayne is still staring at me. You okay? she silently mouths.

I smile and nod. “I’ll be back in a while. I just need to, ah, get some fresh air.”

There’s still concern etched into her features, but I can’t let myself worry about that. Not now.

“Order breakfast, and I’ll see you both soon,” I tell them, pulling on my coat and pocketing my phone and wallet.

I don’t give Jayne a chance to say anything else. I’m out of the door and in the elevator in a heartbeat.

There are two options once I’m outside: the trails through the woods next to the resort, or the flat sidewalks in town.

I go for the latter, not that my surroundings matter much. I’m completely in my head, needing to figure this whole situation out before I return to the lodge.

Hands shoved into my pockets, I walk around downtown. Everywhere I look, there seem to be happy families. No one is here alone. They all have wives and kids.

I study the strangers when they’re not looking, trying to gauge how happy they are. They’ve settled down. Is it worth it? Do they ever expect or hope for more?

When I got with Mia’s mom, I didn’t have the kind of foresight I do now. I wasn’t thinking ten, twenty, or thirty years ahead. The concept of tying myself down to someone, even though that’s kind of what I was doing, didn’t exist in my head.

But now, I’m excruciatingly aware of it.

If I decide to do this with Jayne—if I go for it and make her mine for real—what will that mean? For all of us?

Getting a cup of to-go coffee from a bakery, I sit down on a bench that’s been cleared of snow and stare at the cup. It’s hard to say how long I’ve been walking around for, but my fingers are starting to get cold.

My phone vibrates in my coat pocket, and I quickly pull it out.

Matt.

I haven’t heard from him in days. I’ve been so caught up with Jayne that it’s like nothing else exists. I go to work and then I go to her. The idea of catching up with friends hasn’t even crossed my mind.

“Hi,” I answer.

“Ho, ho, ho,” Matt booms out. “Merry Christmas.”

Despite my bad mood, that gets a guffaw. “It’s only the twenty-third.”

“Damn, Scrooge.”

“Sorry.”

I lean back against the bench and look across the street, where a family of four are leaving a pet store with a puppy and a giant bag of dog food in tow. It’s the most heart-wrenching sight yet.

“How are you?” I ask, starting over.

“Good. Drunk.”

“Already?” I laugh.

“Let me correct that. Tipsy. Tomorrow, I will be drunk. So, how is Aspen? How’s Mia?”

“She’s great. She’s with Jayne at the lodge.”

“Ah. That’s right. How’s it going with…” He trails off there.

Glancing around myself, I switch my phone to the other ear. I’ve already told Matt that Jayne is actually straight, and single, but that’s all I told him. Until now. I need to get this shit off my chest.

“I slept with her.”

“Am I supposed to be surprised?”

“More than once. A lot, actually.”

“Again, I’m not in shock.”

I sigh and purse my lips. “There’s more, man. I think, um. Well, it’s different this time. Jayne, she…she’s great with Mia, and she’s great with me.”

“She nannies you as well?”

“No, Matt. She, uh…we…”

“Oh, shit,” he breathes. “You’re falling for her, aren’t you.”

“Yeah,” I croak out. I can’t decide if hearing it stated out loud terrifies or exhilarates me.

Matt whistles. “This is quite the turn of events.”

My cheeks puff as I exhale. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, I’m confused. Why is falling for a girl a problem? Especially a hot one who’s good with Mia?”

“Because I didn’t expect it,” I stress. “Not this soon. It’s….it’s…”

“Blindsided you?”

“Yeah.”

“How does that make it any less good?”

I think about that while I take a sip of my coffee, which is already lukewarm. My stomach heaves against the intrusion, and I set the cup down on the bench next to me. Apparently, I’m too worked up to ingest anything right now.

“What if things don’t work out?” I ask. “What if Mia gets really attached to Jayne, and then we break up?”

“What if she stays on as just your nanny, and then she quits at some point? Won’t Mia be upset then?”

I chew that over. “I was kind of hoping to avoid that again.”

Matt guffaws. “That’s life, my man. Things change.”

“I know, I know.” I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’ve messed things up with so many other women. I don’t want to send another one running away from Mia.”

“Is this just about Mia?” Matt quietly asks. “Or is it about you, too?”

The question shocks me. “Huh?”

“When were you last in love?”

“Um…” My face burns as I think about it.

Maybe never.

There’s some raucous laughing on Matt’s end, and he says something to someone in the background.

“Hey, Ben, I gotta run. We’re decorating the tree, and Nana Bev has had too much eggnog. She’s knocked the angel over, and there’s glass everywhere.”

“Sounds about right, from what I’ve heard about her.”

“Right?” Matt snickers. “Look, though, we can talk about this later, all right?”

“Yeah, man. I’m good, though.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Clearly, he doesn’t believe me. “Merry Christmas, bro.”

“You, too.”

We hang up, and my gaze drifts back across the street. Was Matt about to suggest that I’m afraid of being in love?

It’s a big theory, and one that I’m having trouble getting my head around. But…maybe it’s true. After Hayden, I did promise myself that I wouldn’t let Mia—and myself—get hurt again.

And yet, that’s just what’s been happening. I’ve been parading nannies in front of Mia, letting her get attached just in time for the women to flee.

I haven’t been true to my word at all.

The more I think about it, the more my stomach aches. Jayne is an amazing woman. Clearly, we have a connection.

So what the fuck is wrong with me?

Chapter 22

Jayne

I gnaw on the edge of my thumbnail and check the time. Ten to eight. Benjamin went down to the bar an hour ago with no promise on when he’d return.

It looks like the romantic part of the trip is over and I’ve been relegated to the role of nothing-but-nanny once more.

What happened? Why is he suddenly withdrawing?

The only answer I can come up with is that things got too intense for him last night. We connected in a new way, and that made him pull back. I’m not a dummy. I’ve seen guys do this before—not that that makes Benjamin’s actions any less infuriating.

“When’s Daddy coming back?” Mia asks from across the living room. She’s on her stomach on the floor, drawing on a pad of paper.

“In a little while,” I answer. “We might go to bed before he gets back.”

“You and me?” She turns and looks at me over her shoulder. “Will you sleep in my room? Like a sleepover?”

I smile at her. “We’ll see.”

At this point, I’m not getting the vibe that Benjamin wants to share a bedroom again. After he came back from his walk, which lasted almost all morning, the three of us went snowboarding for the afternoon. Though he was attentive when it came to Mia, I don’t think we made direct eye contact the whole day. Not that I wasn’t trying to.

The rock in my stomach grows heavier, and though I’m only sitting alone on the couch, I have to fight to hold back tears. I knew that hooking up with my boss was playing with fire, but I did it anyway. I just couldn’t stay away.

If my instincts are true, Benjamin is freaking out and trying to push me away. I never got the specifics on what happened between him and those other nannies, but my guess now is that they came to want more and when he didn’t want to provide that, they left.

And now, it’s my turn.

I blink harshly, not wanting to go down that path. No matter what happens, I won’t feel sorry for myself. I got myself into this position. It doesn’t matter how much I care for Benjamin; if he’s unavailable, I’m only going to hurt myself more by chasing after him.

There are plenty of fish in the sea. I need to act with that in mind.

Rubbing my aching eyes, I stand up. “It’s time to get ready for bed, Mia. You’ll see your dad in the morning.”

“Hold on. I need to finish this.”

“What are you drawing?”

“Nothing,” she says quickly, flipping her paper over so I can’t see it.

A weird feeling slithers its way through me. “Why don’t you want me to see it?” I slowly ask.

She shrugs, not looking at me. “I just don’t.”

With that, she hurries into her room with the drawing. I stay where I am, my mind racing.

What’s going on with her? Is everything okay? She’s never been secretive like this before.

My mind goes back to the day I caught that guy watching her school. After informing the staff about the occurrence, I never followed up. Presumably, he hasn’t shown up again.

Or maybe he has, and no one has noticed him.

A shiver runs up my back. I don’t know why, but I can’t help wondering if the two incidents are related.

“Hey, Mia.” I go into the bathroom, where she’s brushing her teeth. “Have you had any strangers come talk to you recently?”

She takes the brush out of her mouth, looking confused. “The man who carries the bags here.”

“Right.” I press my lips together, realizing I’ve approached this the wrong way. “But you know that you should never go anywhere without telling the adult who’s watching you first, right? Even if someone tells you that you need to come with them. You have to check with the adult you’re with first.”

“Yeah,” she answers. “My dad taught me that—and they tell us in school all the time.”

I exhale in relief.

“Cool. I just wanted to check. Let’s get you into bed and find a story to read together, okay?”

After Mia falls asleep, I end up going to the couch. Benjamin still isn’t back, and as much as I want to text him, I hold back. His turning away has hurt my pride, and it makes me not want to reach out to him, either.

Torn between running to him and turning my back on him, I stay on the couch.

At some point, I jerk awake. It’s early morning, judging by the gray tone bathing the room. I fell asleep on the couch without even realizing it.

The doors to both the bedrooms are closed, which means Benjamin came in last night…and he didn’t think to wake me.

A crippling wave of pain strikes my chest. His literally closing the door and shutting me out of the bedroom hurts worse than anything else he’s done yet.

Dragging myself to the bathroom, I run the water in the sink as cold as I can take it and splash it on my face. I don’t want to wake up Mia by taking a shower, so this will have to do for now.

When I open the bathroom door to the living room, Benjamin is there, sitting on the couch I vacated. I hover in the doorway, uncertainty flooding my heart. He looks over at me, bags under his eyes.

“Hey,” I rasp, taking a few careful steps toward him.

“Hi.”

“When did you come in last night?” I sit on the couch, but keep a full cushion between us.

“Uh…late.” He runs a hand over his hair. “You looked like you were sleeping soundly out here, so I didn’t wake you.”

I nod, my tongue thick. It feels like we’re talking after years apart, like we no longer know how to relate to each other.

“What did you and Mia get up to?” Benjamin gives me a casual look, but his posture is tense.

“She just did some coloring and then went to bed—oh, hey. Um, do you remember that man I told you about? The one I saw watching the school?”

“Yeah. What about him?”

I lick my dry lips. “I just thought of him yesterday, because, well, I have this weird feeling. Last night, I asked Mia if I could see the picture she was drawing, and she said no and hid it from me.”

Benjamin shakes his head in confusion. “What does that have to do with the man?”

“It’s an…odd behavior, that’s all.” I’m doing my best to select my words carefully, but I can tell he already doesn’t like what I’m saying.

“I don’t follow.”

“If something is wrong—if someone has approached her or asked her to keep something a secret—she might listen; that’s what I’m saying. A child her age hiding things isn’t a good sign.”

Benjamin snorts, and the sound cuts into my heart.

“You think someone has done what, exactly?”

“I’m not sure,” I say, a defensive edge to my voice. “But it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

His forehead wrinkles. “I don’t understand why you’re bringing this up.”

I sigh in frustration. “Just forget about it.”

Benjamin’s nostrils flare. “Are you questioning my parenting skills? Because I’ve talked to Mia about avoiding strangers. I’m not as distant as you seem to think.”

That has me reeling back. “It’s not always strangers that cause children harm. It’s usually someone they know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I close my eyes and exhale. “Nothing. I was just repeating a fact. Let’s forget about what I said. I’ll keep an eye on Mia, and if anything is weird, I’ll let you know.”

“I pay attention to my child. I know what’s going on with her.”

His level of defensiveness is still blowing me away.

“Benjamin, I’m not trying to attack you.”

His lips purse. “Fine. So then don’t presume to know what’s best for me and my daughter.”

A slap to the face would have hurt a thousand times less. I sit frozen on the couch, blinking at him, feeling all of my last hopes for our relationship draining away.

“What’s going on?” I ask breathlessly.

“What do you mean?”

Benjamin rakes his fingers through his hair and leans forward, avoiding my eyes.

“I don’t know if our relationship is the…best thing…for Mia.” He forces the last few words out like they’re laced with thorns.

My heart constricts. “Why not?”

Benjamin laces his fingers together, his knuckles growing white. “Because we’re moving fast, and she might get confused. She’s never had anyone in her life other than her mother.”

“Ah.”

My face burns. I get what he’s saying, but I also think there’s more to this. He’s not running and hiding because he’s only afraid for Mia. He’s afraid for himself.

“Is this what happened with the other nannies?”

Benjamin’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

I just give him an even look, waiting. I don’t need to repeat myself.

Benjamin’s mouth tightens. “It was different with them.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means…” He clears his throat and shifts his weight around. I’m as still as he is fidgety, frozen to my seat with pain.

“I care for you, Jayne,” he says to the carpet.

I swallow against the burning in my throat. “I’m not going to beg you to do anything. That’s not me.”

Benjamin’s gaze finally lifts to my face. “I know. You’re strong. That’s one of the things I love about you.”

It hurts like hell to hear him say that, but I keep my face passive. What he doesn’t know is that most of the time, I’m only acting strong. What’s going on inside of me is a different story entirely.

Mia’s bedroom door opens, and we break eye contact.

“Hi,” Mia murmurs sleepily, walking out and rubbing her eyes.

“Hey, Mia bear.” Benjamin bolts to standing and, without another look my way, goes to her. “Let’s go get you dressed. We have to go to the airport in an hour.”

Benjamin takes Mia back into her room, leaving me buzzing with anger, disappointment, and hurt. Our conversation was cut short, but there’s nothing else that really needs to be said.

Amy was right. This whole situation is bad for me. I’ve fallen in love with a man who can’t reciprocate. And now, I’ve ruined not only a great job, but a great relationship with a wonderful little girl as well.

I’ll have to quit. There’s no way around it. I can’t see Benjamin anymore; doing so would make me come apart.

After the holidays…that’s when I’ll do it. It’s already Christmas Eve, and I can’t bring myself to think of saying goodbye to Mia just yet.

Trying not to cry, I stand and go to pack my things.

Merry freakin’ Christmas Eve.

Chapter 23

Jayne

The flight back is oppressive. Never before have I freaked out on an airplane, but riding home to San Bravado makes me feel I’m about to come dangerously close. The whole time, I keep to myself, trying to ignore the suffocating feeling overwhelming me.

“I don’t want to go home,” Mia whines when we’re halfway between Aspen and San Bravado. “I wanna keep snowboarding.”

“We'll come back next year,” Benjamin says, all of his attention on his phone.

Mia makes a grumpy face and slumps forward in her seat.

“Hey, Mia,” I say. “Would you like to go ice skating when we get home?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Benjamin peek at me. It's been at least an hour since I've said anything.

“Yeah!” Mia shouts.

“That okay?” I coolly ask Benjamin.

He gives me the briefest glance ever before going back to his phone. For a second, I want to take the phone and smash it on the cabin floor. Is he really checking his email on Christmas Eve?

“Sure,” he answers. “I'll wait at home for you guys.”

I cautiously look at Mia, worried Benjamin's announcement will upset her, but she doesn't seem to care at all. She's kicking her feet against her seat and smiling my way.

“I love ice skating,” she tells me. “How did you know I do, Jayne?”

I give her a wink. “Because I know you're a little snow bunny.”

Mia giggles, and my heart aches. I'm going to have to enjoy today, because in another week, it will be no nanny job, no Mia…no Benjamin.

I stay quiet for the rest of the flight.

Benjamin has the driver drop me and Mia off at the ice rink, which is just fine with me. With Amy out of town, and my welcome in Benjamin's house overstayed, I'm not exactly rushing to get anywhere.

It's mid-afternoon, and the outdoor rink is full of people. As Mia and I hold hands and skate around, I can't help but think that Benjamin should be here right now. It's Christmas. It's his daughter's hand that I'm holding.

And I know that he's a doting father, that he loves her more than anything else. I've seen this myself many times. He's not here because I'm here. It's just like he said. I'm getting in between the two of them.

I sniffle, and Mia looks over at me.

“What's wrong, Jayne?” she asks.

Damn, this kid is sharp. Aren't six-year-olds supposed to be living in their own world and all that jazz?

“Nothing,” I lie. “I'm just really happy to be here with you.”

We skate around the rink as night falls over the city. The multi-colored lights strung around us sparkle to life. Mia and I skate apart, then together again, our hands always finding each other once more.

“I'm tired,” she finally says, two hours, several breaks, and a hot chocolate from the nearby concession stand later. “Can we go home?”

I'm exhausted as well, and my whole body aches. I could skate all night, though, because leaving this rink means facing cold, hard reality.

It's time to drop Mia off, and then…what?

Benjamin will dismiss me for the night, probably. I'll go home to an empty apartment where the only tree on display is the one-foot-tall plastic one on the kitchen table.

We’re turning our skates in when I catch sight of a familiar car. It's parked across the street, and at first, I don't know why it's caught my attention.

And then it hits me. I know this car. I also know the face looking out the window.

My entire body tenses, and adrenaline pumps through my veins. It's him. The man who was watching Mia's school weeks ago.

And now, he's watching us.

I look away quickly, having stared at the car for not more than one second. I don't know if the man caught me looking or not. Thankfully, I was only raking my gaze across the street.

“I'm so tired,” Mia complains.

I hold her hand tightly.

“I know.” There's a slight shake to my voice, and when I speak again, I control it. “Let's get in the car.”

As I buckle Mia into her car seat, the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. I climb behind the wheel and surreptitiously survey the area. The man is parked right around the corner, on the other side of the rental stand for ice skates.

I could call the cops. That seems like the logical thing to do. The thing is, I don't have any proof that he's following us. I need to see real evidence before I make that call.

I take my time pulling out and go down the side road toward Benjamin’s. We’re still in a residential area, but if that guy follows us, I'll be able to tell right away.

A block into the drive I glance into my rearview mirror. It's as I thought. He's there, trailing us, not even a buffer car between me and him.

My heart jumps into my throat, and I resist the urge to slam my foot on the gas and burn rubber out of there. I take a left going onto the main road. I look in the mirror, watching for the guy to turn.

And he does…except, he goes in the other direction.

I gulp. Him not following me anymore doesn't mean anything.

Hand shaking, I pull my phone from my bag and call Benjamin.

One ring. Two. Three. It goes to voicemail.

“Shit,” I whisper under my breath.

I call Benjamin several more times, but he never answers. At his front gate, I do a thorough sweep of my surroundings. Everything seems normal. At the end of the driveway, it's the same deal. Everything looks standard.

I glance around the yard, wanting to make sure no one is lurking in it. The front porch’s flood light casts a good amount of visibility, but I'm still quick at getting a sleeping Mia out of her car seat and to the front door, where I put in the code for the security system.

“Hello?” I call, as I enter the house. “Benjamin?”

The alarm system was working as normal, so everything looks safe here.

“Hello?” Eddie’s voice calls back.

He shuffles into the hallway, wearing a Santa hat and a sweater with reindeer on it. I would probably laugh if my heart wasn’t threatening to beat its way out of my chest.

“Is Benjamin here?” I ask in a low voice, not wanting to wake Mia. She’s snoozing with her head on my shoulder, and it’s best if she stays that way.

“No.” Eddie frowns. “Has hasn’t arrived yet.”

My stomach drops. “Have you heard from him?”

“No.” He looks over my shoulder, like Benjamin might be hiding there. “He isn’t with you?”

I gulp.

“Eddie, listen. Something is going on, but I’m not sure what. This man followed us from the skating rink.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide.

“He dropped off a while back, but my guess is that he knows where we are. Here. Take Mia upstairs.” I gently pass her over to Eddie, worried the older man doesn’t have the strength to sustain her weight. He hefts her onto his shoulder, though, bypassing my expectations.

“We need to call the police,” Eddie says in a wobbling voice.

“We can’t prove anything yet. The man didn’t even follow me all the way home, but I know he was trailing us. I saw him watching Mia’s school weeks ago.”

I resist the urge to pace and instead pull my phone from my pocket and call Benjamin again. There’s still no answer.

The discomfort in my core grows. Benjamin always has his phone on him.

“Something’s wrong,” I breathe. “Make sure the alarms are all set and take Mia upstairs. If anyone shows up here, don’t even answer the door. Call the police.”

With the alarms all over the grounds and the cameras pointed at all entrances, he and Mia will be safe here.

“Where are you going?” Eddie asks. “What about Benjamin?”

“I’m going to find out where he is.” My mind is racing, and I think back to the driver who picked us up at the airport. I didn’t recognize him, but that means nothing. Benjamin uses a car service, and they’re always sending different drivers.

Is Benjamin still with the driver? What if the man behind the wheel wasn’t a driver at all? What if he was someone else?

“What’s the car service Benjamin uses?” I ask.

Eddie is bending under the weight of Mia, who, somehow, is sleeping through this whole conversation.

Lucky girl.

“Maximum Chauffeur,” he answers.

“Right.” I’m already looking them up on my phone and calling their number. A voicemail picks up, and I exhale between my teeth. “Shit.”

“Lock all the doors and windows,” I reiterate. “And call me if you hear from Benjamin.”

Rushing out the front, I lock the door behind me and jump into my car. I have no plan and don’t know where I’m going. I just know that what’s going on isn’t right.

Benjamin isn’t where he’s supposed to be, and the puzzle pieces are fitting together in a way that suggests he’s in trouble.

Tears burn in my eyes as I head down the driveway. What if something happens to him and I never see him again? We’ll have ended on the worst note possible.

He probably thinks I don’t care about him.

That’s awful, because the truth is the opposite. I love him like I’ve never loved any man.

At the end of the driveway, I pull my phone back out and open an app, the one thing that’s going to be able to help me. Benjamin is a computer whiz, so I can’t be sure that he hasn’t already discovered the tracking software I added on his phone and uninstalled it.

It was a shady move to do it without asking him, I know. But I did it with good reason.

And now I’m about to see if my move wins this game.

Chapter 24

Benjamin

My head pounds, and the stars dance above me. They twirl around, making pirouettes and doing flips.

Wait…

When did the sun set?

A groan rumbles deep in my chest, and I blink my eyes against the dark. There’s a dripping noise coming from somewhere, and it echoes inside my skull. It’s cold, much colder than it should be in the car.

The car.

My body tightens as it all comes back to me. Within a flash, my eyes are open.

Wherever I am, it’s poorly lit. I can see the figures of two men, though. They have their backs turned to me and talk in low tones, their words indecipherable.

“Hey,” a voice says, much closer to me than I would like. “He’s awake.”

The two men turn and walk toward me with interest, and a third man—the one who must have spoken—appears in my peripheral. My head aches like hell, and even the dim fluorescent lights hurt to look at.

The room is large—no, not a room. We’re in some kind of warehouse that’s full of boxes. It smells of mold and decaying cardboard.

That’s all I have time to register before one of the men is grabbing a chair and taking a seat across from me. I go to move, but my arms are tightly bound to my sides. I look down, and find I’m tied to a chair.

“How you doing, Mr. Glen?” the man across from me asks.

My heart hammers away, and I open my mouth to speak, but it feels like it’s full of cotton. The man is short, small in stature, but there’s an easy confidence to his dark eyes that’s unnerving.

“I…” I swallow, and try again. “Where am I?”

“You’re still in San Bravado,” he coolly responds.

I start to nod, but it makes my head pound. My driver…he hit me over the head.

We’d stopped on a side road. He said he was going for gas, but once he pulled over into an empty lot, he reached over and hit me with something. I went to retaliate, to punch back, but there was a sweet-smelling cloth pressed over my mouth. With my head spinning from the hit, I hadn’t had the energy to fight back.

Chloroform, I realize now, as I look at the man. That’s what was on the cloth. It doesn’t keep a person unconscious for long, so they must have given me a good deal of it.

One of the other men steps up behind the seated man’s right shoulder. My teeth grind together. That’s him. My driver.

“Any other questions?” the seated man asks. He smiles slightly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

But of fucking course.

“Yeah,” I rasp. “What the hell is going on here?”

“I’ll get right to the point. We have your daughter in our custody. If you wish for the safe release of both of you, I’ll require a billion dollars. Immediately.”

I stare at him as the words soak in. A ransom?

“You have to be fucking kidding,” I say.

This time, he doesn’t smile. “I’m not,” he succinctly answers.

My chest burns with an inhale. They have Mia.

Rage pounds through my veins. I want to break from these ropes and pummel these three with my fists until there’s nothing left of them.

“Where is she?” I demand.

“At another location.”

I stare into his poker face. He’s lying.

Maybe. I can’t know for sure.

“If you’ve hurt her at all…” I can’t finish the sentence.

“She’s safe. I give you my word on that.”

“Bring her here.”

“I can’t do that. She’s at another location, on the other side of the city.”

“Bullshit,” I snap.

His brows twitch a bit. “You’re calling bullshit on everything I’ve told you? Is that really a call you want to make this soon?”

I rake my gaze over the three men. Only the sounds of my ragged breathing and the dripping of the water fill the warehouse. There’s the light roar of traffic, but it’s far off.

There’s no chance of my escaping. I can clearly see that. And if they have Mia, I won’t be trying anything like that.

“Who are you?” I ask.

“You don’t need to know that in order to meet my requests.”

His goons stand behind him, monolithic and impassive.

They’re some kind of gang. Or, part of the mob? The latter is known to operate in San Bravado; I know that much. Or maybe they’re just three men working alone.

“Well, Mr. Glen?”

A billion dollars. It’s a lot of money, but I don’t give one shit about letting it go if it means my daughter is going to be all right.

But how do I know this man will be true to his word? What if I get him the money and he demands more? He could have my every last cent, if that’s what he wants, but I need to know that it will mean Mia’s safe release.

Mia. My throat tightens. If they do have her, she must be so scared. And what about Jayne? Did these assholes nab her as well?

I should have fucking listened to her. She told me something weird was going on, but I had my head too far up my ass to listen. Is one of these men the guy she saw watching Mia’s school?

Anger like fire shoots through me, and I have to consciously unclench my jaw before I can speak.

“Is she the only one you have?”

He cocks his head like he’s amused. “Worried about that pretty nanny of yours?”

A growl rolls from my throat, and that makes him smile.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Glen. She’s with Mia, and you can trust that she’ll be…well taken care of.”

He’s trying to get under my skin. I fucking hate that it works.

I force myself to stay calm.

“You have to let her go, as well,” I state, piercing his gaze with mine.

“Of course.” He nods in agreement.

“And how do I know you’ll let them go once I give you the money?”

That makes him chuckle. “You don’t, do you?”

For a second, I forget I’m tied down. I try to lunge at him, but the ropes hold me firmly in place. He blinks, looking back at me evenly. I don’t even know this man’s name, and yet he’s holding my life in his hands, toying with everything I hold dear.

“Still nothing?” he asks. “You’re not very talkative, are you?”

He reaches into the inside of his suit jacket and pulls out a knife. Even in the shitty lighting, its blade gleams.

Maybe he’s about to say something else, to threaten me, but he doesn’t get the chance. Gun shots ring out in the warehouse. The man jumps to his feet, all three of them pulling out guns. I do my best to duck, but it’s not an easy feat considering I’m stuck to a chair.

There’s shouting, and one of the henchmen grabs at his arm. Dark red blood seeps between his fingers. The other goon starts running, and the wounded one follows. More shots, these sounding like they’re hitting even closer to me.

The leader darts behind a crate, disappearing into the darkness. Somewhere past him, a door bangs shut.

“What the fuck?” I gasp, frantically working my hands against the ropes.

Are the police here? Or is it a rival gang, and I’ve just gotten stuck in the middle of some kind of shoot-out?

All I can think of is Mia and Jayne. I can’t lose these crooks, because if I do, I’ll lose the two most important people in my whole world.

Footsteps sound to my right, from the opposite direction the three men took off in. As if out of a vision, Jayne appears. She runs toward me at a crouch, a gun in her extended hands. My hands still, and I just stare at her.

“Jayne?” I ask in amazement.

She drops behind me and gets busy untying the ropes. “Are you okay?”

“I… Yeah. How did you find me?”

“Let’s talk about that later.”

The ropes fall from my wrists and I stand up, rubbing at the grooves they’ve left in my skin.

“Which way is out?”

Jayne’s eyes are darting every which way, her gun held up in front of her. Everything that is happening right now is fucking insane…and yet I can’t help but think that she’s looking the sexiest she ever has.

“This way. Keep close.” She rushes back the way she came, and I keep so close she’s only a few inches away.

From the soft murmur of traffic, a new sound emerges. Sirens.

I suck in a breath. “Police?”

“I called them. They’re on their way.”

Thank God.

“And Mia?”

“With Eddie. Come on.” She darts around a forklift, and I follow.

Mia’s safe. The cops are on their way. Everything is going to be all right.

The figure moving out of the corner of my eye dashes that hope in an instant. The leader of the group, the man who spoke with me, steps out of the shadows, his gun pointed right at Jayne.

Time slows down. I’m not even thinking. Before I know what’s happening, I’m rushing at him from the side. The gun goes off, but I keep moving.

My left hand grabs the wrist that holds the gun as I land a punch to the man’s nose. He’s strong for his size, and I see him turning the gun my way. Grabbing the wrist with both my hands, I twist his arm and pull the gun free before elbowing him in the neck. He goes down, dazed and bleeding from the nose.

I point the gun at him and take a few quick steps back. The sirens wail. The police can’t be more than a minute away.

“Where’s the entrance?” I ask Jayne.

When she doesn’t answer, I glance over my shoulder. She’s sitting up against the forklift, her palm pressed to her side. She looks at me as she brings her hand up, revealing its thick coat of blood.

I take a painful breath. There’s a noise behind me, and when I look over, my kidnapper is gone.

“Jayne,” I grunt, dropping to my knees in front of her.

She doesn’t answer. Her eyelids are growing heavy, and her head is dropping forward.

“Jayne!” I grab her shoulders and shake her. “Jayne, stay awake! The ambulance is on the way.”

Again and again, I yell her name, but still there’s no response.

Chapter 25

Jayne

Something is beeping.

I listen more intently, trying to find the source of the sound. The beeps stay at the same volume, not getting louder or softer.

I reach for my gun in its holster, but my hand sweeps across fabric.

Benjamin…I have to get him out of here. He doesn’t belong here, surrounded by these thugs. He needs to be at home with Mia.

An aching pain shoots up my side, and I let out a gasp.

“Easy,” a familiar voice says.

“Benjamin?” I rasp. I blink my eyes open and find his face swimming in my blurry vision. Wherever we are, it’s not the warehouse. It’s too bright in here, too warm.

“What…” My throat is too dry to go on.

“Here.” He gently places a cup to my lips and helps me drink. The water tastes like heaven, and after a few sips, I pull myself gingerly up to sitting.

“Be careful,” he cautions.

I survey my surroundings for the first time. We’re in a hospital room, and evidently, I’m the patient. Looking down, I note the hospital gown and the ache of my left side. I take a peek under the gown and find a bandage there.

“Hi, Jayne,” a small voice says.

In the right corner, legs curled up under her, sits Mia. There’s a stack of coloring books and a box of crayons on the little table next to her, and she gives me a toothy smile.

“Hi, Mia,” I answer, my chest filling with emotion. She’s okay. They’re both okay.

“Do you remember what happened?” Benjamin goes to sit on the edge of my bed, but then seems to think better of it and hauls a chair over instead.

“Um…” I think hard. “The last thing I remember is being on the floor.” My eyes slide over to Mia. I’m not sure how much her dad has told her, but I’m going to stop there.

Benjamin nods seriously. “One second.” He goes to the door. “Eddie!”

Twenty seconds later, Eddie appears in the doorway. His face brightens at the sight of me.

“Oh, Jayne! You look wonderful.”

That makes me chuckle, because I know it can’t be true. “Thanks.”

“Eddie, the carolers should be in the lobby right about now. Take Mia down there, will you?”

Mia gasps happily. “Let’s go sing!”

She latches onto Eddie’s hand and they disappear through the door, leaving Benjamin and me alone.

“What day is it?” I ask.

“Christmas,” he says simply. He’s leaning forward in his chair, hands interlocked and forearms pressed against his knees. Dark bags are discernible under his eyes.

“Christmas,” I repeat with a murmur. “Was I…unconscious?”

“For a while, yeah. After that, you were just asleep. You lost a lot of blood, but the bullet missed your organs, and there’s no long-term damage.”

He talks like he’s reading from a script, and as he finishes, he swallows hard and looks down.

“You saved my life,” he breathes. His eyes snap up to mine, and they’re shimmering with emotion.

My throat tightens. “Why would I not?” I whisper.

Benjamin smirks sadly. “Because I’m an asshole, that’s why.”

You’re the asshole that I love.

The statement would be funny, but also too confessional, so I hold back and just look at him. He holds my eye contact, and for a few moments, we stare at each other. There’s a lot to say, and it’s hard to know where to begin.

“Those men,” I finally say. “Did the police get them?”

“No,” Benjamin replies. He straightens up in his seat and sighs. “But I won’t let what happened occur a second time. I’m doubling up on security and hiring a team of bodyguards. One of whom will wait outside Mia’s school when she’s there. I should have listened to you when you said something was up. I was too…” He shakes his head. “I was so full of myself. I thought I knew what was best.”

“It’s okay,” I answer, and I mean it. “I didn’t know for sure myself that something was going on. Mostly, my intuition was sending me messages.”

“Well, I’m going to listen to your intuition from now on.”

From now on?

What is Benjamin imagining for the two of us? Before I went into that warehouse after him, he’d basically turned his back on me, and I was days away from handing in my resignation.

I look down at my hands, eager to think about anything but where the two of us left things in the romantic sense.

“Do the police know anything about the kidnappers?”

“Judging from the description I gave, they think they’re part of the mob. The warehouse’s location is a great clue, actually. It might give the police the last puzzle piece they need to make some arrests.”

“Good,” I exhale, thinking about the danger Benjamin and I just lived through. Even though I knew I was putting my life on the line by going in after him, there was never an instant where I considered not doing it. He needed me, and I needed him to live.

“How did you find me?” Benjamin’s eyebrows push together in confusion.

I self-consciously bite my bottom lip. “Oh, about that…I might have installed some tracking software on your phone.”

His eyes widen in surprise. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“How did I not notice?” he asks quietly, as if talking to himself.

“It was pretty well-concealed, even by tech-whizz standards,” I grin. “After I realized you were missing, I left Mia with Eddie and tracked you to the warehouse.”

“And the police? When did you call them?”

“Once I got there. I didn’t plan on trying to rescue you myself. I’m not usually that foolhardy, but I saw the leader pull out that knife, and…” I trail off with a shrug. I’m not about to confess that I would walk through flames to ensure Benjamin’s safety.

“Damn,” he breathes.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His gaze penetrates me. “You saved my life, Jayne. I don’t even know how to begin thanking you.”

Heat fills my face. “You’re welcome,” I whisper.

We’re still quietly watching each other when Mia runs into the room.

“The carolers are gone,” she announces. Benjamin catches her right before she crashes into my bed.

“Mia,” Eddie says from the doorway. “Let’s go home.”

“She can stay,” Benjamin answers. “Why don’t you go ahead to your brother’s, Eddie? I’m sure he’s eager to see you. We’re fine for the rest of the day.”

Eddie bows his head in agreement. “I will. Merry Christmas.”

“Be safe,” Benjamin calls after him as he goes. He turns back to me. “I’m a little on edge.”

“Understandably.”

“Daddy slept here last night,” Mia informs me. She’s wiggling back and forth between the side of my bed and Benjamin’s knees. It’s the first time I’ve seen him blush.

“The sofa pulls out,” he quickly explains.

“That’s…sweet,” I quietly answer. My heart is pounding, and I don’t know what to make of this news.

“Hey, should we give Jayne her presents now?” Benjamin asks Mia.

“Yeah.” She thumps her palms against his knee in excitement.

“Okay, go get them.”

Mia runs to the end of the bed and comes back with two gift bags.

“I know this probably isn’t the Christmas you were hoping for,” Benjamin says, “but the doctor said you’ll be able to go home in a couple of days. We can celebrate for real then.”

I’m too stunned to answer. He’s being so nice. At the same time, I like it, and my heart feels like it might crack in half. Benjamin made it pretty clear in Aspen that he intends on putting space between us. He might feel indebted to me because I saved his life, but I don’t need to be spending any extra time around him and Mia. That would be too hard.

“You don’t have to do that,” I answer.

“I want to,” he insists, his voice deep and sweet.

I look down at my lap, where Mia is setting the smaller of the gift bags.

“Open it, Jayne,” she says.

“Okay.”

I reach in, and my fingers graze over something hard. Out comes a long jewelry box. My breath catches as I open it up.

“Oh my…” The last part dies in my throat, the necklace sitting in the velvet lining is that amazing. It’s a rose-gold chain with a single diamond dangling from its end. I lift it out of its case and stare.

“Put it on,” Mia says.

I’m too flabbergasted to speak, but Benjamin takes the lead and secures the chain around my neck. I lightly touch the diamond, relishing the cool sensation against my fingers.

“It’s beautiful,” I sigh, looking at Benjamin. “I…wow…I never expected this.”

Suddenly, the leather wallet I got him seems like shit.

“Now mine.” Mia puts the second bag on the bed.

I hesitate. “I wish I had your presents here. I didn’t exactly plan on celebrating Christmas in the hospital.”

Benjamin shakes his head, grinning. “Mia and I don’t care about that. We’re happy that you’re all right. That’s all we want.”

There’s so much intensity in his eyes that I have to look away.

Mia’s present is a lot lighter than Benjamin’s, but it takes me by even more surprise.

“Oh, Mia,” I coo. “It’s beautiful.”

I gaze at the picture of me, her, and Benjamin, as noted by our names written under the figures. We’re standing in a yard, playing with a brown dog.

Mia sits on the bed and smiles up at me. “It’s what I was making when you asked me what I was drawing. I couldn’t tell you ’cause it’s your Christmas present!”

“Aw, thank you, honey.”

My heart constricts, and tears swim in my eyes. I use every shred of power I have to stop them from falling.

If only things could be different. If only Benjamin would open his heart up to me, would see that the three of us are perfect as a unit.

But I don’t live on wishes, and my self-respect prevents me from hanging around somewhere I’m not wanted.

“It’s us as a family,” Mia explains.

I press my lips together. Good God, this is too much.

“Oh, Mia,” I murmur as I reach out and stroke her hair. I hope Benjamin has talked to her about this, has let her know that I’m not a mother to her—as much as I’m coming to believe that I would really like that.

“Stay with us, Jayne,” Benjamin suddenly says.

I look at him in shock. “Huh?”

He takes my hand in his.

“I know that things got…weird in Aspen. I was confused.” His gaze is earnest; there’s nothing there to suggest he’s not telling the absolute truth. “Mia and I have talked about it, and we want you in our lives. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Mia beams at the both of us. “Girlfriend,” she giggles.

“Hopefully,” Benjamin tells her with a smile.

“I… What…”

“If you can’t answer now, that’s all right. Please think about it.”

Finally, I find my voice. “You want me to stay?”

“Yes.” He nods earnestly.

“Benjamin, I came seriously close to…” I trail off, not wanting to say the ‘quit’ word in front of Mia, but I can tell by his face that he knows what I’m talking about.

“And that’s my fault,” he quickly answers. “But then, I realized that I was just scared. Please.” He squeezes my hand. “Stay with us.”

Tears shimmer in his eyes. I never thought I would see a man like him cry.

His emotional display is all I need.

“Yes,” I gasp. “I would love to.”

“Yay!” Mia shouts, clapping her hands.

Benjamin lets out a cross between a laugh and a happy sob, and suddenly tears are rolling down my cheeks. He wraps his arms around me and Mia, and pulls us both in for a hug.

“You know what?” I say against his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter that I’m in the hospital. This is the best Christmas ever.”

Epilogue

One Year Later

“I’m bringing the eggnog,” Amy says.

“Is that what you’re giving us for Christmas?” I joke.

“Oh, can it.” The video chat on my phone lags a little, but I can still make out her giant smile.

“Hey, wifey! Merry Christmas!” Matt shows up behind Amy’s shoulder, grinning just as big as she is.

“Merry Christmas, both of you.” I blow them a kiss. “When are you guys coming over?”

“I think we’re going to be a little busy today,” Matt says, wrapping his arms around Amy from behind. “So, tomorrow morning?”

“That’s a bit TMI, but yes, tomorrow morning works great.”

Although my moving out of Amy’s apartment eight months earlier had been bittersweet, the transition was made a lot easier when Matt moved in with her a couple months later.

It’s funny, really, how my best friend and Benjamin’s best friend ended up together. They met on New Year’s Eve, right after I left the hospital and Benjamin had a little party for me at the mansion, and bam. Sparks flew so hard, it’s a wonder everyone in the room wasn’t burned.

“See you guys tomorrow,” I tell them.

“Bye,” they echo. I have to hurry up and end the video chat, because they’re already kissing.

“Who was that?” Benjamin asks, coming into our bedroom from the master bathroom. He’s just showered, and neglected to put a shirt on. The sight of his toned muscles has an ache forming between my legs.

“Matt and Amy,” I breathe, my eyes still on his sexy form. “They’re coming over tomorrow morning. Hey, why don’t you—”

Before I can suggest he come back into bed and take me, Mia is knocking on the door.

“It’s Christmas!” she shouts gleefully.

Benjamin and I share a grin.

“It’s Christmas,” I agree.

“Your favorite time of the year.”

He finishes getting dressed, and the three of us rush downstairs, Mia so excited she’s nearly tripping over her feet the whole way.

The space under the tree is piled high with presents, and it’s all Mia can do to not tear into them at once. She manages to control herself, though, and we take turns opening gifts.

The pile dwindles, and soon, there are only a few presents left.

“What’s this?” Mia asks, picking up a small box.

“What does it say?” Benjamin says. He’s sitting next to me on the couch, arm casually slung around my shoulders.

“Jayne,” she reads.

As she hands it to me, my heart flips. The box is square, the perfect size for jewelry.

I shoot Benjamin my own questioning look, but he shrugs.

I unwrap it, feeling just as eager as Mia. Opening it, I gasp.

“Wow,” I whisper, opening up the box within.

The diamond ring is extraordinary. But, wait…is this a regular ring…or…

Before I can wonder any further, Benjamin is getting down on one knee in front of me.

“Oh my God,” I gasp.

“Jayne, you and Mia mean everything to me. I don’t know how else to put it. This last year has been the best one of my life, and I never want this perfect happiness to end.”

Tears fill my eyes. “Same here,” I whisper.

“Will you marry me?”

It’s Mia’s turn to gasp. She gapes at us open-mouthed.

Benjamin takes my hand, his eyes imploring, full of love.

“Yes!” I shout. I’m crying and laughing as he puts the ring on my finger.

“You’re getting married!” Mia screams.

She twirls in a circle, and I catch her in my arms. “Did you know about this?”

She flashes me a grin. “Daddy asked me yesterday. Now you’ll really be my mom!”

I kiss the top of her head.

“I love you, Mia bug.” Over her head, I catch Benjamin’s eye. “And I love you.”

He squeezes my hand.

“And I have some news,” I continue, letting Mia go. “I was going to wait until tomorrow, when our friends come over, but now, this seems like a perfect time.” I pause for dramatic effect. “In about seven months’ time, give or take a few weeks…Mia is going to have a little brother or sister.”

There’s a long silence. Benjamin and Mia both stare at me, then look at each other.

“What?” they ask at the same time.

“Yeah.” I nod and laugh.

“Jayne,” Benjamin gasps, pulling me close. “Wow,” he breathes against my neck. “Wow.”

“I’m going to have a little sister!” Mia sings out. “Or a brother!”

Hours later, once all the wrapping has been cleaned up, once Christmas dinner has been had and the dishes piled in the dishwasher, once Mia has played with every new toy and fallen asleep while watching a Christmas movie, Benjamin and I lay cuddled together on the couch. Eddie is at his brother’s for the holidays, Benjamin having given him the whole week off, and the house is peacefully silent.

“So, this is why you were so cautious on the trip,” Benjamin says, referring to the Aspen trip we returned from a couple days before.

“Guilty as charged.” He’s laying stretched out on the couch, and I’m snuggled up with my back against his chest and his arms around me.

“I can’t believe it.” He runs his palm over my belly. “This time next year, we’ll have a five-month-old.”

“I know.” I sigh in happiness. “And I can’t believe this.” I hold my hand up so I can look at my new ring for only the thousandth time.

Benjamin kisses the top of my head. “Believe it. There’s nowhere else I want to be than right here with you.”

I sit up and look into his eyes. “The same goes for me.”

Benjamin tucks some hair behind my ear. “Hey, Mrs. Glen,” he whispers.

A delightful shiver runs up my back. “I’m not Mrs. Glen yet.”

“You’ve been that to me for a while, now.”

I start to smile, but Benjamin’s lips against my own makes it hard to. He kisses me slowly, his sweet taste coating my tongue.

He pulls back and gives me a heated gaze. “Come with me?”

“Anywhere,” I respond, letting him take my hand and guide me up the stairs and to our bedroom.

Sometime this evening while I was playing with Mia, he must have snuck upstairs and set the room. Candles burn on the wardrobe and bedside table, and jazz plays softly from the stereo.

“Ooh, romantic,” I comment.

Benjamin doesn’t answer. He’s behind me, too busy kissing a line up my neck. I close my eyes in pleasure and sink against him. His arms wrap around my waist, and I feel my whole body break into goosebumps all at once.

We’ve been together for over a year, and every time he touches me, he takes me to another plane. If that never changes, I’ll be the luckiest person in the world.

After reaching my ear, Benjamin kisses his way down my neck. He works my shirt over my head and my jeans down my hips, leaving me standing there in my panties and bra. Coming to stand in front of me, he kisses my lips before charting another path down my body.

His lips land on my cleavage, my stomach, my hips, always taking their time and savoring me. With a feather-light touch, he drags my panties down my thighs. His tongue darts out, running across my swollen nub.

I groan, and dig my fingers in his hair. Soft licks make pleasure rocket through me. My breathing increases, till there’s hardly any space between the inhales and exhales. The pleasure is all-consuming, filling my body and heart till I think I might burst.

When I do explode, I come with a shake, clinging to Benjamin’s shoulders and calling out his name. He smiles up at me and gives each of my inner thighs a kiss before standing up and leading me to the bed.

There, he lays me in the middle of the mattress. I watch as he stands up and strips, his clothes falling away to reveal the body that I worship on a daily basis. His dick is engorged with need, and it gives me an extra bit of satisfaction to know that I’m the one he so badly wants.

Crawling onto the bed, he lowers his weight partially, so that his weight is barely on me.

“You don’t have to be this careful,” I quietly tell him.

Benjamin runs his thumb down the length of my arm. “You can never be too careful.”

“Okay,” I laugh, not willing to argue. It’s sweet how cautious he’s being, and I already know that the next seven months are going to be amazing.

“Oh, hey.” He looks at my bra as if he’s only just noticed it. “You still have that on.”

“I do,” I agree with a grin.

“We can’t have that.” Deftly reaching under me, he unhooks my bra and tosses it away from the bed.

I snuggle closer to him, inching my hips right under his and wrapping my arms around his back. Every curve and line of his body molds to mine. It’s been this way from our very first time together, but over the last twelve months, it seems like our bodies have grown to accommodate each other in a new way.

Now, when we come together, we’re two puzzle pieces snapping into place.

Benjamin’s lips brush across mine, bringing the sweet taste that makes my head spin. I tilt my head back and push my lips against his. Eagerness grows in my belly as we kiss, swirling around like a maelstrom before stretching into the rest of my body. Pressed against Benjamin’s back, my hands shake.

I send them lower, and my palms grasp at everything they can reach. Benjamin’s hips. His tight ass. His smooth, firm back. All of it belongs to me.

“We’re engaged,” I find myself murmuring against his mouth.

“And pregnant,” he adds.

It’s almost too much to comprehend. Ever since he asked me to be his girlfriend a year ago, Benjamin and I have grown closer every day. I always knew our relationship was likely headed in this direction, but now that our family is growing and becoming stronger, I’m close to exploding from joy.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

“I love—”

He doesn’t let me finish my sentence. His mouth is on mine again, the new kiss soaked in a heady passion.

I push my hands up into his hair as his hard length slides along my inner thigh. I can feel the heat coming off of it, just as I feel the love seeping from Benjamin’s hands, mouth, and heart.

He slides up a little more, settling his length’s tip against my folds. As we kiss, he gently rocks against me. I roll my hips back, opening myself to him, and with the next rock, he smoothly glides all the way in.

My muscles clench around him, welcoming him back. He keeps it slow, grinding in and out of me. He still holds himself off of me a bit, and I’m not having it.

Looping my arms under his, I pull him firmly down onto me, planting his hips and weight against my own. Benjamin smiles against my mouth, and I can tell he’s finally relaxing a bit.

“We have a while to go before you have to be careful of the baby,” I whisper.

“If you say so,” he breathes, driving into me faster, now.

I cry out, arching my back and curling my toes. Benjamin leans back a little bit, just enough so we can look into each other’s eyes. As he pushes down into me, I rock up toward him. Our rhythm is as smooth and steady as waves.

The pressure deep inside me hardens, strong as a diamond. Benjamin keeps everything slow, though, dragging my ecstasy out and making me twist underneath him. Finally, I come, his name leaving my lips with every exhale.

Our eyes still locked, Benjamin pushes into me once more. I feel his release, and my body hungrily sucks it up.

With a heavy breath, Benjamin grins down at me. Sweat has stuck tendrils of hair to his forehead, and his face is flushed. He’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life.

“Come here,” he softly says, drawing out of me and laying down. He pulls me into his chest and cradles me there, arm wrapped around my shoulders.

I breathe in deep, absorbing the happiness of my life, then exhale, letting out a lifetime’s worth of gratitude.

“We have everything,” I find myself saying.

“Yeah.” Benjamin strokes my hair. “We do.”

Over the last year, nothing has gotten in the way of our happiness. As it turned out, Benjamin’s kidnapping led to a major breakup in San Bravado’s mob network. The men responsible for abducting Benjamin are in jail, and plenty of other arrests were made as well.

Beyond that, we have an amazing little girl and a baby on the way. I get to spend every day with Mia and every night with the man of my dreams. We have friends. We have a home—and it doesn’t hurt that it’s a lavish one, at that.

But, for all the luxuries, I wake up every morning knowing what matters the most, and I never forget what that is. We’ve found a little slice of heaven in this big and crazy universe.

That little slice is in our hearts. It’s the love that we share, the love we give to each other and to everyone else we care for. No matter what happens, no matter where we go from here on out, we’ll always have that love to bask in and share.

And that’s how I know, without a doubt, that I’ve found my happily ever after.

The End

Second Chance Twins

Layla Valentine & Holly Rayner

Time for a tease!

Up next are the first few chapters of the previous book in our San Bravado Billionaires’ Club series, Second Chance Twins

Happy reading!

Copyright 2018 by Layla Valentine and Holly Rayner

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.

All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Shelley

August at Finnegan’s

“Shelley! Another round for me ’n the boys!”

“Coming right up, Steve.”

“Shelley! Baby! When you gonna let me take you out?”

“When your wife gives her blessing, Angus.”

Hearty laughter followed me back to the bar, and I shot a cheeky wink over my shoulder. I never would have imagined myself being comfortable working in a place like this back when I first started college. Confidence had discovered me hiding in a book, and I had embraced it out of necessity.

I filled the glasses for the table of five, leaving the perfect amount of foam on top.

“Damn, you’re good at that. You should work in a bar or something.” Miles flicked his bar rag over his shoulder and flashed his movie-star smile at me. Butterflies swirled through my belly, heating my cheeks. If only my confidence extended into the area of men.

“Oh, should I? Maybe I’ll go put in an application at Finnegan’s. Oh, wait! Here I am!” I rolled my eyes at him, and he stuck his tongue out at me.

If only that tongue were a little closer, I thought. Words like that would never make it past my lips, but that didn’t keep me from thinking them. That boy made me distracted every shift, and tonight was no different.

“Shelley! Come on, girl, watch what you’re doing, would ya?”

“Oh, gosh, Billy, I’m sorry. I’ll get you a fresh one and a towel—one second.”

“Yeah, but leave this one here. No point wasting half a beer.” Billy winked at me and tipped the dripping glass into his mouth.

“You ever gonna ask that pretty boy out?” Angus asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“Of course not! You know I’m just waiting for your wife’s permission, and then I’m all yours.”

“Yeah, yeah, flirting with old men pays your bills. But who’s gonna keep your bed warm at night, huh?”

I glanced across the bar at Miles, who was staring off into space and absently flicking his towel on the counter.

“Doesn’t look too bright, though. Might want to get that IQ tested before you start making babies.”

“Oh hush, Angus,” I said, but I felt heat rise on my neck.

“Um, darlin’?”

“Oh! Sorry Billy, I’ll be right back.”

A fresh beer and a towel later and I was back on Billy’s good side. Miles seemed to be fumbling tonight, worse than he had since his training week ended three months ago.

After his third botched drink, I took him aside. His close proximity in the darkened corner of the loud, dim bar made me want to touch him in all kinds of inappropriate ways. I settled for a platonic hand on his shoulder.

“Hey. You all right?”

“Hm? Why do you ask?” he replied absently.

The spark of flirtation which was usually present in his tone was nowhere to be found. He was still off somewhere else in his head. I could see the wheels turning behind his bright blue eyes, hear the calculations hiding in his tone.

“Look at me,” I told him, putting a hand on his face. “Are you high or something?”

He grinned at me, then, his eyes coming into sharp focus.

“Just high on life, Shelley. I’ll focus, cross my heart.”

“You’re working on that app in your head. I can tell.”

“I am shocked and offended at your accurate accusation!” He swept a dramatic hand to his chest as his eyes twinkled at me.

“Back-burner it before you get fired,” I said, suppressing a grin.

“That’s the problem with the world today—everybody’s so busy surviving in it that they’re putting off changing it.” He had gone suddenly somber, but quickly shook it off.

“Change the world on your own time,” I admonished gently. “Junior is around here somewhere, and you’re still the newbie. He’s watching you.”

Angus called for another round, and I shot Miles one last warning look as I scurried back through the crowded tables. Miles didn’t react; he wasn’t even looking at me. It bothered me more than it should have.

“Finally pinned the boy down for some on-the-clock necking?” Angus asked with a friendly leer.

“Oh yeah, you know we like to give you guys a show,” I answered sarcastically.

“Better get to it, girl. That boy has big dreams.”

“Never shuts up about them,” Steve agreed. “Gonna drive me nuts with that techno-babble one of these days.”

“You know he only talks to you guys because he knows you won’t understand a word he’s saying,” I teased. “Another round?”

“Yes ma’am.”

He waved me off and I hurried back to the bar for the round of lager, picking up orders for tequila shots and long islands on the way.

I took pride in my efficiency, and filled my tray with all the drinks before heading back out. I expected Miles to make a comment about me trying to climb the corporate step stool, but he was busy shaking a mixer and staring off into space. His customers were gazing at him with a mixture of boredom and annoyance.

“Miles! Focus!”

I didn’t stick around to see if the words reached him.

Shots here, talls there, and finally the round of lager, I flirted and complimented my way across the room. I had really grown to love my job in ways I had never thought possible, but it did exhaust me. Not just the physically taxing parts, but the constant interplay between myself and the customers as well. It wasn’t something I was naturally good at, and even though I enjoyed it, it still took a lot out of me.

Miles was still half a step behind his work, and seemed to be completely oblivious of the intentions of the two women he was serving. They were taking turns aggressively hitting on him, and he was answering their double entendres as if he were interpreting them literally.

It wasn’t unlike Miles to miss a cue; he’d been missing mine for months. But wordplay was his favorite past time, and he was bypassing so many opportunities for humor that I was beginning to wonder if he’d had some kind of stroke.

The doors opened, then, letting in everyone who had just ended the workday. It would be hours before I would have another chance to talk to him, and I was having no luck at all trying to catch his eye.

Resigning myself to worrying from afar, I focused all of my energy on working the floor while Miles shakily held down the bar. He definitely had the easier half of the job, but he couldn’t seem to keep up with it.

“Back burner,” I said as I passed behind him to grab the whiskey.

“Man, if you knew—”

“Two more shots down here!”

“Tell me later,” I said quickly. “And for the love of God, Miles, focus!”

I hurried back out to the floor, and was called over by a familiar face.

“Shelley! I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Hi, professor! I didn’t know you drank here,” I shot back.

Professor Zain chuckled, stroking his grey beard, which was flecked with bright spots of paint. He never could seem to keep it clean.

“Only occasionally, my dear. Celebrating the end of this interminable summer. Will you be coming back this semester?”

“Yes, sir! I’m hoping to get into your senior class.”

“Senior already! How time flies. And then off to take the world by storm, I hope. A traveling artist, perhaps? Yes, I can see your work in galleries from New York to France. Or perhaps a clothing designer, yeah? You do have quite the talent for screen printing.”

“High aspirations for me, as always,” I said affectionately. “But to be perfectly frank, professor, I think I would rather curate art than try to sell my own.”

He was silent for a moment, considering me as he stroked his beard. “A pity,” he said. “The world would benefit from your point of view. Ah, well. If that is your path, you will find it. If not, you will be the best curator the world has ever seen!”

I laughed, embarrassed but happy at his faith in me. He ordered a stout and sent me on my way.

I didn’t have another chance to talk to the professor before he left, as the bar was getting increasingly busy and I had to keep my eye out for the sloppily drunk and disorderly, but seeing him was enough to get me excited for the new school year. I had every intention of finishing my academic career on a high note, and Professor Zain’s class was a surefire way to make that happen.

Before that, though, I was determined to finish out the last summer of my academic career with a bang. I would settle for metaphorical, but I was hoping for literal.

I watched Miles mix drinks with quick and nimble hands, and took a moment to imagine what those hands could do to my body. Chills ran down my spine and I nearly spilled another drink. Angus was absolutely right. I needed to act on this before I lost the opportunity. Miles wasn’t going to stick around Finnegan’s forever, after all.

As if to emphasize that fact, his current customer was pitching him a position at his company.

“If you’re as good as you say, I have a job for you. It’s an entry-level internship, but it’s a great opportunity.”

“Intern? Paid or unpaid?”

“Well it’s great experience, and your portfolio would be top of the pile when it comes time for you to move up—”

“Thanks, Larry, but I’ll pass. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.” Miles winked at him to soften his words, and the guy shrugged.

“I mean, I respect that and everything, but I think you’re making a big mistake.”

“Yeah, we’ll see. Can I get you anything else?”

“Your resume?”

“Goes down kind of papery; you’re gonna want a chaser.”

Larry laughed, and I was already moving on to my next customer. I was definitely running out of time. Miles might be overestimating his app’s potential—I had a hard time believing that it would change the world the way he said it would—but he was certainly talented.

He had shown me a few of the apps he had helped develop before dropping out of Harvard and moving to the West Coast to try and make it on his own, and they were all professional quality. When he started going on about them, he had a way of losing me in passionate technical jargon in minutes.

I wondered if I sounded the same way to people whenever I started talking about the technical side of art. I suspected that I did. I was going to have to do something about that if I was going to work with the public in a museum. I considered the possibility of practicing on my regular customers at the bar, and the thought made me grin. Between me and Miles, those poor guys would get a college education whether they liked it or not.

The night ticked on in a swirl of music, drunken demands, and booze-serving, as it always did. I managed to catch Miles’ eye once or twice over the course of it, and each time, it made my stomach clench.

It shouldn’t be legal for someone to be that attractive. If it hadn’t been so busy, I probably would have spent most of my shift daydreaming about those eyes locking with mine, those hands on my skin, that mouth…but the chairs filled as quickly as they emptied, without a second to clean up in between. I managed to move around the customers efficiently to clear the surfaces, with help from the ever-present and oft-unnoticed Jeff.

He was in his fifties but moved like a janitorial ninja, virtually unseen as he whisked away cigarette butts and straw wrappers almost as soon as they hit the floor. He and I had developed a rhythm for the rush; he would follow just behind and to the left of me as I wiped the tables down, flicking the detritus into his dustbin with my rag. We circled the room quickly, then stole a breather beside the trash can.

“He was staring at you before,” Jeff murmured to me as he lit a cigarette. “Isn’t it about time you made a move?”

“Why do I have to make a move?” I asked, flustered. “If he’s staring, he should make the move.”

“Why, because he’s the guy? I thought you art-school girls were progressive.” The playful twinkle in his eye halted my temper before it flared, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“Well, maybe I just don’t want to bother him,” I hissed.

“Or maybe you’re just a chicken.”

I glared at him and he laughed, his voice raspy with decades of smoking. I heard a call for another round and moved away into the crowd, but Jeff’s challenge stuck in my mind for the rest of the night. I wasn’t chicken. Quite the contrary.

Look at me! I thought. Moved away from home, spent three years making the most of the college scene—I’m good. I’m golden. I’m brave as hell, damn it.

I had never been more relieved to announce last call. It should have been Miles, but he was busy emphatically explaining something to a bleary-eyed patron who didn’t seem to be following a word of it.

I spent more time watching him than cutting people off, which was going to get me in trouble if I didn’t reel myself in. My obsession with Miles’ absent-mindedness was reaching an unhealthy level, as was my concern that he would disappear out of my world before I had a chance to tell him how I felt about him. When the last stumbling straggler finally shuffled out the door, I took my first full breath in hours.

“Busy tonight,” I commented to Miles as I locked the doors.

“Was it? I didn’t notice.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. You weren’t really noticing much of anything. What’s with you tonight?”

Miles slid a sly look at me out the corner of his devastating blue eyes. “Okay, I shouldn’t say anything because I don’t want to jinx it. But if I don’t talk about it, I’m going to drive myself nuts and then I’m going to show up tomorrow looking like a madman and bomb the whole thing.”

“What whole thing?” I grabbed a towel and started wiping down tables as he paced the floor agitatedly.

“I found an investor,” he said in a strangled whisper. He took a huge breath and released it, almost shaking with excitement. “They’re interested in the app. Like, actually interested. This could be my big break, Shelley! I’m meeting with them tomorrow and I’ve spent the whole week going over my presentation, and I’ve been running through it all night in my head, and I know it’s as perfect as I can make it, but I can’t seem to quit thinking about it…I’m terrified, honestly.”

I cocked my head to one side. An urge rose up in me that I had pushed back down dozens of times over the last three months, but Jeff’s comment still rankled the back of my mind. I wasn’t going to let a touch of anxiety steal this chance away from me, and what did Jeff know anyway? I was more than capable of asking a guy out. I knew how to get what I wanted, right? Right.

“Sounds like you need a distraction,” I said thoughtfully. “Do you want to go grab a drink?”

Chapter 2

Shelley

Dancing with a Genius

I don’t know why I waited so long to ask. Miles was every bit as excited to come out with me as I was to go out with him.

Probably not for the same reasons, I told myself. I figured he spent all his time working, on his passions or at the bar, so he didn’t get a chance to get out much. He did seem to know all the best after-hours places to go, though.

“How’s your drink?” Miles shouted over the music.

“It’s great! You want to dance?”

“That’s not how you ask!”

I wrinkled my brow in confusion, and he pointed to the speaker above us with a grin. I listened to the song for a moment, then rolled my eyes, grinning at the dork.

“Shut up and dance with me!”

“That’s better!”

He took my drink from me to set it down and led me out onto the dance floor. There was plenty of room between the clusters of women and stray couples scattered around, and we had center stage before I knew what was happening. He stole my breath in the first few minutes, spinning me and leading me like a pro, pressing my body to his whenever the opportunity arose.

“You’re good!” I laughed breathlessly.

“You expected something else? Here, let me get my dad dance on for you.” He pulled away and started doing an insanely embarrassing rendition of the running man. Shaking my head, I turned to walk away.

“Hey, wait!” He laughed. “I’ll stop; I promise. Hold on…I feel a robot coming on!” Sliding into the jerky movements, he followed me back to our table where I downed the last of my drink.

“Oh, no!” He gasped in dismay, snatching the glass from me. “You’re dry!”

Without waiting for a response, he scurried over to the bar, returning a moment later with four drinks. I raised a suspicious brow at him.

“Trying to get me wasted, scoundrel?”

“Scoundrel? I haven’t been called that since…actually, I don’t think I’ve ever been called that,” he said thoughtfully. “And no, I’m not trying to get you wasted. I’m confident in the intoxicating qualities of my game.”

“You got game?” I teased.

He ruffled his hair, then lowered his head to give me a smoldering look. Popping his collar, he slid forward like a Latin dancer and wrapped an arm around my waist, jerking me flat against him.

“Has anyone ever told you,” he said in a dramatically husky growl. “That you have the most beautiful eyes?”

It was cheesy. So very cheesy. It shouldn’t have done anything to me but make me laugh. Whether it was the alcohol or the dancing or the fact that I might not be working with him for much longer, the cheesiness worked. A ball of heat, intense as the sun, plummeted from my chest to the spot between my hips, making my breath catch in my throat.

Impulse caught me at a weak moment, and I put my hands on his face, pulling his head down to kiss me.

He didn’t even hesitate. The instant my lips touched his, he was taking my mouth possessively, molding it to his whims. He stole my breath and my sanity in a single moment, and there, in front of a room full of half-drunk dancers, I began to grind my hips against the hard rod straining against his pants.

Dizziness nearly overwhelmed me and I pulled away, sucking air into my oxygen-deprived lungs.

“Damn,” he said, his eyebrows disappearing into his floppy blond hair. “I didn’t know that would work! I have wasted so much time being smooth…”

I laughed at him and drank deeply from one of the glasses.

“I blame the gin,” I told him. “That never would have worked on me sober.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he teased. “You know you’ve been dying for me to rip your apron off and steal you away from work on the back of my valiant steed.”

“You call that hideous hatchback a valiant steed?”

He stuck his tongue out at me and I bit my lip.

A song I couldn't help but dance to came on in between beats of the music, and I dragged Miles back onto the dance floor.

Conversation was silently held as we moved together, my hips conferring with his, my hands asking soft questions of his firm biceps. He answered in little circular hip thrusts, just barely decent for public observation, and traveling hands which flirted with the fringes of modesty.

His blue eyes had darkened like eternal pools in his movie-star face, his lips ruddy with drink and desire. I brushed them now and again with my own, feeling him pulse against me each time. My heart raced with more than exertion as we followed one song into the next, long into the night. We danced until my ribs ached and my legs shook, until Miles led me back to our table to collapse on the plush velvet couches beside it.

I took my drink in both hands, gulping it down as if it would quench my thirst. It only made it worse. Anticipating me, Miles hurried to the bar for water, but I wasn’t thinking clearly and had drained my glass before he returned.

“Drink this before you puke,” he said, his mouth twisting in wry amusement as he handed me a bottle of water. “Thought a bartender would know better!”

“I’m not a bartender tonight.” I grinned.

“What are you?”

I paused for a moment, then turned his own cheesiness back on him. Batting my eyes heavily, I turned on my own sultry, breathy voice.

“I’m just a girl…standing in front of a boy…”

“You’re sitting,” he pointed out.

“Thank you, kind sir.”

“That’s not the end of the quote!”

“Well, I can’t finish it now; the moment’s ruined!”

He shook his head, his blue eyes twinkling. “That’s a shame. But frankly, I’d rather hear what you had to say, sans movie quotes.”

“About what?” I asked innocently.

“About me.”

“Who says I have anything to say about you?” I teased.

He smirked, popping his collar and flipping his hair over his forehead again. Looking like a conglomeration of every bad-boy movie heartthrob from the last four decades all squished into one, he gave me the smolder.

“Oh my God, stop that,” I laughed, but the pulse of heat between my thighs belied my objection. The gin swimming in my blood loosened my tongue, making me forget why I had been hesitant to say something in the first place. “I’ve had a crush on you since the day you started working at Finnegan’s,” I confessed.

The music hit a loud, bass-heavy section just as I spoke, and Miles shook his head and put a hand to his ear.

“I have a thing for you,” I said again, a little louder.

“What?”

I sighed heavily, then inhaled deeply.

As loud as I could, I shouted, “I have a crush on you!”

At that same moment, the music fell silent. The crowd around us cheered my confession, and I buried my face in my hands. The music started again a heartbeat later, and I silently cursed the DJ.

Oh, God, Miles must be dying of laughter. I slid a peek at him between my fingers, and he beamed at me. Leaning close, he spoke loudly in my ear.

“I do too! I’m pretty awesome.”

I rolled my eyes and he laughed. Scooting closer to me, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and put his lips against my ear.

“I’m kidding,” he told me. “I have a crush on you, too. A major one. The kind that makes me stop coding a little earlier just to spend a little extra time getting ready to go to work to see you.”

“Really?” I let my hands fall into my lap and turned to him, his gorgeous face blurring with the bright, colorful lights of the club in my hazy vision.

He didn’t answer with words. Twisting my body around to press against his, he tipped my chin up with his fingers and took my mouth once more.

I melted in his arms, tasting the gin in his warm mouth, burrowing my fingers in his thick hair. His hands were on my waist, my thigh, running up my back, brushing over my breasts, cradling the back of my neck.

My pulse quickened, fluttering deep and heavily in my core, and I turned to drape my thighs over his.

Straddling the rectangular couch, I pushed my body against him, raking my fingers through his hair as he took a detailed tour of my curves. He jerked away from me a moment later, looking up into the bored and annoyed face of the massive, bald bouncer.

“Get decent, get a booth, or get out,” the bouncer drawled as if he’d said it a hundred times already that night.

“Sorry,” I said quickly, scooting away from Miles and tucking my legs underneath me.

“Yeah, man, no worries,” Miles said smoothly, shaking the bouncer’s hand. “We’ll tone it down.”

The bouncer nodded and lumbered away, leaving me shaking as my mortified heart thundered in my ears. Miles waited until the man was out of earshot, then raised a single, perfect eyebrow as he looked at me.

“You want to get out of here?”

“God, yes.”

We took a cab back to his place, getting increasingly frisky in the back seat while the cab driver turned the radio up a little more with every block. Miles threw the fare plus a generous tip at him and led me inside, unwilling to release me for even a second as he unlocked the door and we tumbled inside.

“Nice place,” I told him without even looking around.

“Thanks—let me give you the tour.”

His passionate kiss pushed me backwards until my knees hit the soft edge of a sofa, then followed me down as I found a horizontal plane to lay on. He pressed my thighs open to settle his hips between them, propping his elbows on either side of my head as he pushed my mouth open with his. I tilted my hips up to meet his enticing gyrations, the waves of my body synchronizing with his.

“So, this is the couch,” he said breathlessly as he pulled away to move his mouth to my neck.

“It’s a good couch,” I moaned. “I like the color; I really think it ties the room together.”

“I do love a woman with a good eye for design,” he murmured against my collar bone.

I chuckled, a sound which quickly dissolved into a moan as he pulled my scooped collar down to reveal the soft, milky tops of my breasts.

He kissed along them without missing an inch, caressing them with his hands as his mouth worked. I pressed hard against the bulge in his jeans, aching to feel its velvety smoothness inside of me. A minute later, we stripped each other of our shirts.

He had a good chest. The sort of chest I didn’t usually see on men our age; broad and muscular, dusted with just the right amount of hair. I raked my nails over it lightly, reveling in every sensation.

He pulled back, gazing down at my black-lace-clad breasts, groaning low in his throat as his fingers traced their contours. Brushing the pads of his thumbs over my erect nipples, he sent lightning bolts of pleasure shooting across my body, starting a fire deep in my core.

“You look even better than I imagined,” he whispered hoarsely.

“You imagined me like this?” I asked, the realization turning me on even more.

“Maybe,” he hedged, licking his lips. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Reaching behind me, he unclasped my bra with a flick of his wrist, letting my breasts spill out against his chest. Sliding down my body, he took one aching breast into his mouth and fondled the other in his nimble hand.

Pleasure coursed over me, crisscrossing my body until it hit my deepest need in hot, pulsing waves. My hips rocked of their own accord, finding a rhythm which quickened my breath and ignited my blood.

A groan escaped his throat and he pulled my jeans off, leaving me naked except for my black panties. He stripped out of his own pants just as quickly, but didn’t return to his place on top of me. Instead, he pulled me off the couch and held me close.

“I believe I was giving you the tour,” he said, his voice thick with lust.

“Yes,” I gasped. “What comes after the couch?”

“You do,” he murmured, giving me the earnest version of that erotic smolder.

I moaned, melting into his embrace as he walked me backwards down a hallway. Plush carpet tickled my toes and the house grew dark around us, but those were the only outside details I took in. My focus was entirely on Miles, nearly naked against me, his sensual masculinity permeating my every sense. My calves hit a bed, and he lifted me up by my hips to toss me back on the mattress.

“I didn’t know you were so strong,” I murmured against his mouth as he fell to meet me on the bed.

“I didn’t know you were so soft,” he replied, running gentle hands over my curves.

Gentle hands quickly became demanding, almost rough in their desperation. Hot lips ran down my neck, over my breasts, pausing to suckle for a mind-bending moment before moving over my belly. A new kind of intoxication swirled through my body as he moved over me, down to my hips, breathing hot air against the thin cotton covering my wanton need.

He peeled my panties away slowly, kissing each new inch of exposed skin until he held my most sensitive spot between his lips. Swirling his tongue over it, he slipped his fingers inside me, pressing pleasure into me from both inside and out. Heat rocketed through my body and I arched against him, swept away by the sensations of his skilled and unfamiliar touch.

His desire pulsed through his lips to ignite me to my core. Waves of ecstasy rippled through me, intensity building with reckless abandon, quickly reaching a fever pitch between my hips. Release shook me like an earthquake, and I screamed his name into the dark. He was on me in moments, crushing my mouth with his, and I tasted my own pleasure on his tongue.

Sliding inside of me with the same intoxicating skill, he quickly moved us into a perfect rhythm. I arched to meet his thrusts, desperate for more—though I was full to capacity—craving every molecule of his being.

My hands in his hair, my teeth scraping his lips, my hips against his, I gave myself over to primal rapture. There was no room for tenderness in this dance, not now; he took me like a beast, slamming into my deepest recesses, jolting electricity through my spine with every thrust.

His growls mingled with my screams as he tossed my ankles over his shoulders and dove even deeper, forcing me to give, pushing me to my limits. My fingers curled into fists around bunches of bed sheets as fireworks exploded in my brain. His masculine scent filled my senses even as he filled my body. He was everywhere, everything, and I was lost to him.

Miles flipped me onto my belly without warning, then slid me to the edge of the bed. He entered me from behind, framing my rear with appreciative hands as he thrusted, grinding my pleasure button against the silky duvet. Sliding his hands up my body to my breasts, he lay over me, kissing my neck, biting my shoulder, caressing my breasts.

“You feel so damn good,” he groaned in my ear.

It was the feather that tipped the scale. Pleasure raked violently through me, each muscle tensing and releasing in a pulsing wave from the top of my head to the tips of my curling toes, locking him inside of me with powerful waves. His groan was nearly a scream as he railed me harder, faster, without a hint of the control he had previously shown.

His pulses pushed back against mine, sending me into another cascading orgasm, his shouts of release mingling with mine in an intoxicating cacophony of raw sexuality. Breathless kisses trickled over my shoulders and down my spine as the waves subsided. A final jolt of pleasure hit the base of my spine, making my head spin and my eyes go heavy.

Shakily, I crawled up onto the bed with Miles close behind. As the first gray light of dawn tinted the black sky, I fell fast asleep in his arms.

Chapter 3

Miles

The Pitch

There was nothing better than waking up next to a beautiful woman who smelled like sex and strawberries. Nothing, that is, except the chance to make a cool million in the space of an hour.

I took a moment to appreciate the picture she made on my bed as I dressed for my meeting. Her thick, strawberry-blond hair across my navy blue pillows, her perfect tan, those full lips pushed out in an innocent sleepy pout. She was gorgeous.

“Yep, Miles, looks like the gods are finally smiling down on you,” I told myself as I straightened my tie in the mirror.

I blew her a kiss and hurried out. Luck wasn’t patient, and neither was Nate. He had already texted me twice, and the meeting wasn’t supposed to begin for another thirty minutes. Regardless, I told him I was on my way and hurried to the address the investor had given me.

Nate was already in the parking lot when I pulled up, flipping his keys around his finger, his eyebrows lowered behind his reflective sunglasses.

“Frowning already? Cheer up, man; we’re invincible today.”

I bounced across the parking lot, trying and failing to rein in my wildly elevated mood. I couldn’t seem to keep the grin off my face, and even though I’d been awake way longer than I should have been, I had never felt more energized and alert.

“What got into you?” Nate asked, then slid his glasses down his nose to peer at me with his piercing dark eyes. “Or, should I say, who did you get into?”

“Yes,” I answered cryptically. “Doesn’t matter who. She’s perfect, this day is perfect, and this meeting is going to go perfectly. It’s a perfect storm of perfection, Nate. Get on board!”

“I don’t know if hyper-active Labrador is really the impression we’re going for,” Nate said, raising a brow as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Better off being cool. Aloof. Real Silicone Valley material, catch my drift?”

“Dude, all those guys geek out just as hard over their stuff. Trust me, I got this.”

Nate shrugged, but let it go.

Still, I could feel his eyes on me as we made our way through reception and up the elevator to the office on the top floor. The higher we went, the more lavish the floor on the other side of the glass doors appeared. By the time we reached the top, the walls were practically gilded.

Nate didn’t seem to notice, but he wouldn’t. He came from old money. This was standard for him—like a department store break room for those of us who have had to work in one. Or shop in one, for that matter.

I managed not to gawk. My confidence was leaps and bounds ahead of my self-consciousness, and I made a mental note to express my gratitude to Shelley later. I now understood why soldiers used to make a point of getting laid before going into battle; something about it just made a guy feel like a god. This morning, I would be unstoppable.

We were ushered into the boardroom, where the investor I had already talked to stood with two other suits.

“Nate! Miles! Good to see you boys again. These are my partners, Natalie Eisenhower and Frederick Jones.”

Hands were shaken all around.

“Thank you again for meeting with us, Mr. Dalio,” Nate said, putting on an air of humility I didn’t know he was capable of.

“Call me George. Would you like anything before we begin? Coffee? Water? If not, the floor is yours.”

I expected to be quaking with nerves, but I found that I was just excited. Nate and I set up our presentation as the investors grabbed their coffees and arranged themselves at the far side of the table. Each had a notepad in front of them and a look of casual interest on their faces. I locked eyes with Nate as we put the final touches on our setup.

“You ready for this?” I asked him.

“I was born ready.”

He literally was, so I couldn’t really blame him for the cheesiness. I turned to our investors.

“Imagine, if you can, that you are a business owner in one of the poorest countries in the world. This business owner—we’ll call him Joe—pulls in maybe fifteen thousand a year for himself; barely a living in the United States, right?

“Now, let’s say that you’re an average mid-grade worker in the U.S.—we’ll call you Paul, and you make twice what the other guy makes in a year. Paul wants to make a little extra passive income in his downtime, and he has a little bit of money to invest. Joe has a brilliant idea to double his profits, but doesn’t have the startup money.”

I was gesticulating as I spoke, and I could feel the excitement building with every word. Nate was sticking to his cool-guy persona, smiling mildly at me as I went on my rant.

“So, the way things are right now, these two have little to no chance of ever meeting or helping each other out. This app changes all that. There are very few micro-investing services on the market right now, and the ones that are there offer very little control to either party. It’s practically a grab-bag scenario out there right now. This app allows business owners to input everything that makes their business unique, from their experience and plan details to ethical and moral concerns.”

“Studies have shown,” Nate interjected, “that the vast majority of people entering the workforce right now are more concerned with the ethics of a business than they ever have been before. People would rather be out of work than work for a company they find morally reprehensible, and those same people would rather spend a little more money on ‘good’ businesses than spend their money on companies who represent ideas they find distasteful.

“These people will be doing the majority of the micro-investing on this app, and they will want to know who they are funding; not just from a business perspective, but from a personal one.”

“Exactly,” I said. “Which is why this app—in addition to giving a platform to business owners and investors—also gives a platform to their friends, associates, and employees. It’s like a social media network for the business world.”

“There’s already one of those on the market,” George interrupted. “And frankly, it isn’t doing so well. It built up slowly, and is now where resumes and professional profiles go to die. What makes yours different?”

“Ah! That’s exactly what makes ours different. The investment pitch and social profile are two separate components of the same account. An investor can put in the criteria for a project that he or she is interested in, search, and pull up a bunch of opportunities. Once they find one that interests them, they can then click on the poster’s profile, where they will find not only their social media interactions, but a reputation score. This app allows anybody with a real life connection to the poster to rate them on a user-friendly scale. Better reputations get higher rankings on searches, emphasizing the ethical focus of the project.”

“Who will use it?” Ms. Eisenhower asked.

“Literally anybody. The app itself will be free with upgrades available for a small fee, and a small percentage will be taken off of any completed business deal. Money is moved right through the app with the click of a button. This thing makes investing so easy that anyone who has ever used social media could use it effectively. This app makes it possible for anybody with five extra dollars to make someone else’s dream come true, and make a profit at the same time.”

Their interest was piqued. I launched into an overview of the technical specifics, and the outcome of the thousands of simulations I had run. Nate took over afterwards, discussing the marketing side of things. The more we talked, the more interested the investors looked; the more interested they looked, the more excited I got.

By the time we’d wrapped up our presentation, I was practically bouncing with pent-up energy. I could see that this was going well, and I was dying to know how much they were going to invest and how soon we could get the ball rolling. I was mere breaths away from my dream becoming reality. I could taste it.

“Well I must say, that was a very interesting presentation,” George said, nodding his head. “Very interesting indeed. Would you two mind stepping out for a moment so my colleagues and I can deliberate in private?”

We respectfully made ourselves scarce. I paced the hall while Nate leaned up against the wall. To the untrained eye, he looked utterly relaxed, even bored. But I saw the tension at the corners of his hooded eyes and the little fold at the corner of his mouth which told me he was just as anxious as I was.

“How do you think we did?” I asked him.

“I don’t know, man. I told you to tone it down. You were like a puppy ready to piddle in there. When you hit some of those techy points, you were talking so fast I was afraid they would think we were trying to hide something.”

“I could always go over those points again. Maybe I should do that now.”

“You open that door before they call us in and I swear to God I will end you.”

“Okay, okay.” I pushed a hand through my hair and sighed. “I wasn’t that bad, was I? If they weren’t interested at all, they wouldn’t be discussing it for this long, would they?

“Maybe they’re just toying with us.”

“That’s ridiculous; they wouldn’t…would they?”

“Mr. Lane, Mr. Dunn, the investors will see you now.” The receptionist’s voice came over a speaker, startling me.

I straightened my suit and took a deep, steadying breath.

“Moment of truth,” I said.

“Let’s see if your app is worth anything,” he answered.

We pushed back into the boardroom, practically vibrating with anticipation. The investors were all smiles, and I thought I might actually vomit. The nerves had finally hit. I was just glad they had waited until after the presentation.

“Have a seat, boys,” George said in a grandfatherly sort of way. “Let’s talk funding.”

* * *

I was still hyperventilating when we reached the elevator.

“Five million,” I gasped. “Five m-million dollars!”

“Yes,” Nate said with barely-concealed annoyance. “Five million dollars. That’s not that much, Miles. This app is worth at least twice that. Startup costs could eat through that overnight.”

“Nope,” I said adamantly, shaking my head. “This baby’s working and ready to go. Branding won’t cost near that much. We’re in the money, Nate!”

“I’ve always been in the money,” Nate said with a sly quirk of his lips.

“Well, now I’m in the money,” I said, sticking my tongue out at him. “God, why aren’t you more excited? This is the first day of the rest of your life, Nate! You made something happen! We’re about to change the world!”

“It’s just business to me, man. Sure, I believe in your vision and I’m thrilled with your app and how you managed to make it work, but I’ve known this day would come since I was three. Maybe not with you, or with these investors, or whatever. But I always knew I’d make a million before twenty-five. I wouldn’t be a Dunn otherwise. It’s in our blood.”

I didn’t let his chill demeanor cool my excitement. I knew someone who would be just as blown away by my sudden success as I was. The second Nate and I parted ways in the parking lot, I called her.

“Shelley!”

“Miles! How did it go? I’ve been biting my nails for you all morning!”

“Well, bite no more, babe! I won their hearts and wallets in one fell swoop.”

She squealed, and though I had to pull the phone away from my ear, I was grinning like a fool.

“Oh my God, that’s wonderful!” she said, then added after a pause, “Even if it means you won’t be working at Finnegan’s anymore.”

“True, but I will be raking in loads of cash and doing something I actually enjoy doing. Not that I don’t enjoy watching you flirt with old men all night, but it’s not much of a career path.”

She laughed, adding a golden sparkle to my already sunny day.

“I’m so happy for you, Miles. I can’t believe you did it! You actually made it!”

“I can’t believe it either! I want to celebrate. Celebrate with me? Tonight. I’ll take you somewhere ridiculously expensive, a sort of preview of the life I’m about to have. What do you say?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, every time, yes.”

Her enthusiasm boosted my already-inflated ego, and I felt as if I were floating a hundred miles off the ground, soaking up sunshine. We set the time and threw around some ideas for places, punctuating the conversations with bouts of giddy laughter.

It was really happening. The girl, the gold, the glory; I had completed the hero’s quest, and it was time to soak up the rewards.

Chapter 4

Shelley

Nothing to Wear

“Don’t I have anything?” I asked my closet in despair.

The pile of clothes on the bed behind me seemed to be judging me. Of course I had things—nice things, even. But nice wasn’t really good enough for a fancy dinner with a millionaire, was it? I needed to be stunning. Mind-blowing.

“Just like he is,” I murmured through the hazy smile dancing around my lips. “Absolutely mind-blowing.”

Memories of the night before swept through my mind, making chills run over my body and turning my knees to jelly. I sat down among the clothes for a moment, staring into space as I replayed every touch and sensation from the night before. A deep ache built within me in response to the memory, a heat which would only be cooled with Miles’ talented body.

“It doesn’t matter too much what you wear,” I told my reflection in the mirror. “It’s only gonna be on long enough to get through dinner, anyway.”

At least, I hoped so. I would hate to think that he was less impressed with our chemistry than I was.

I stood and examined myself in the mirror in my bra and matching panties, turning this way and that under my critical eye. No, he’d been impressed. I took pride in my body; as a late bloomer, the womanly curves were still fairly new to me. Every time I saw myself naked or near it, I felt like I had just stepped out of the pages of a comic book.

“Can’t go wrong with a little black dress,” I decided.

I owned three of them, but only one of them was fancy enough for the evening. I shimmied into it, then began working on my makeup. Keep it simple, keep it clean. You know it’s just going to get smeared off on his face or his pillow. That thought sent another shiver of anticipation down my body.

“No appetizer, no dessert,” I decided. “Dinner, then round two.”

Butterflies stirred in my belly. Dinner was more intimidating than I had anticipated. If he was taking me somewhere fancy, it would be filled with the kinds of people I only dreamed of rubbing elbows with. Entertainers. Artists. The California elite. I swallowed hard as I realized that Miles was now one of those people.

“As if his movie-star looks weren’t intimidating enough,” I sighed to myself. “But then again, I’ve seen him naked. A person can only be so intimidating after you’ve seen them make an orgasm face. Right? Right.”

I blew out a breath, and the butterflies finally began to settle. They were immediately roused again as my phone went off with a text message from the man himself. I had to read the message three times before it made sense to my brain, and then, my veins turned to ice.

Gotta cancel, sorry.

“No reason? No nothing? Nice.” I swallowed my emotional reaction and replied.

That’s okay. Rain check for tomorrow?

Can’t, sorry. Taking the $$ to San Bravado to get startup going.

My hands began to shake and my belly seemed to turn to stone. He was leaving, probably forever.

After I’d taken a few steadying breaths, I realized that San Bravado wasn’t very far away at all. A half-hour drive outside of rush hour. That was nothing; we could totally make that work.

That sounds exciting! After you get settled we should celebrate?

He didn’t answer for a long time. Stress redoubled, clenching my chest. I swallowed against it, pacing my room, feeling foolish in my little black dress. My phone went off, nearly giving me a heart attack.

I don’t know yet. Maybe.

My breath caught in my chest as tears burned in my eyes.

“Well screw you too, Mr. Millionaire.”

The tremors in my hands moved to the rest of my body, leaving me feeling sick and miserable. How could he just toss me aside like that? I thought we’d had a fantastic time. I thought we were great together. More importantly, I thought we were friends. I re-read his texts again and again, and the more I did, the more obvious it was that he was distinctly and deliberately leaving me behind.

I tore the dress off and threw it to the floor in disgust. Hurt and angry, I turned my phone off. I didn’t expect him to write a long flowery apology, but if he did have anything else to say, I didn’t want to hear it. Let his money keep him warm at night.

I kicked my shoes into the closet with more force than necessary, then stormed to the bathroom to scrub the makeup off of my face.

“One night.” I pointed at myself in the bathroom mirror, emphasizing the seriousness of the situation. “You get one night to cry over this jackass. Exactly one, you understand me?”

My voice was already wavering, and the tears which burned in my eyes escaped down my cheeks. I turned the shower on and stripped out of the rest of my things. There, under the hot stream, I let the sobs crash out of my body. It could have ended with a crush, two ships passing unawares in the night, but I’d had to go and cross that line. Now, it wasn’t a what-if. It was a what was, and I almost couldn’t bear it.

Nobody had ever touched me the way he had. In and out of bed. I had never felt such an immediate connection, or experienced such soul-shaking sex. I could still feel him, and I hated it. His presence in my memory only underlined his absence in my reality.

I took full advantage of my one night. I mourned what was and what could have been until the sun began to wash its rays over the sky, then fell into a fitful sleep.

Chapter 5

Shelley

October at Stanford

“My name is Charlie Lease, and I’ll be your guest speaker today. Thank you all—wow, all of you—for showing up today. I gotta say, I’ve done a lot of lectures in the last couple months, and this is the biggest crowd I’ve ever had. Thank you, Stanford.

“Anyhow, on to the topic at hand. I’m here to teach you the day-to-day, nitty-gritty, nine-to-five—or six, or eight—grind of making a museum work. Now…”

My eyes suddenly couldn’t focus on the guest speaker. A case of tinnitus cropped up out of nowhere, giving me vertigo at the top of the slanted lecture hall. I had the overwhelming desire for flat floors and ice water.

Closing my eyes, I lay my head on the desk. I had been feeling a bit weak, a little tired, and a touch shaky over the last week or so, but nothing like this. I felt like I was on a boat in the middle of a choppy ocean.

“So, when curating, you have to know two things: first, who your customer base is. Are you going to have a bunch of middle-class parents trying to put their kid on an upward trajectory, or are you going to have a bunch of upper-class nannies going through the motions at the parents’ request, or are you going to have a bunch of lower-class couples looking for a cheap way to pass an afternoon? Are you going to be showing to journalists, art critics, or historians? What’s the local art or science scene like, who already has what you’re offering…”

This was gold. I needed all of this information. Can’t miss the lecture…can’t miss the lecture…

Hot chills coursing over my skin disagreed with me. I put it off as long as I could, barely gleaning anything from the man’s meticulously organized presentation, before my mouth began to fill with saliva. Abandoning my bag on the floor, I raced out of the room, down the long hallway, and into the bathroom. I barely made it.

“Hey!” a startled man shouted as I burst in.

Couldn’t be helped. The ladies’ room was three yards farther, and there was no way I could have got there without a very messy, very public sort of mortification. As it was, I was re-gifting my breakfast to the porcelain throne in front of a row of urinals.

Sweat poured into my eyes as my whole body shook. It had never been like this. It was worse than the flu. Worse than food poisoning. It was as if my body was trying to get rid of everything in it, whether it belonged there or not.

I don’t know how many men came into the bathroom in the ten minutes it took for me to stop heaving, but I do know that none of them stuck around to make sure I was all right. I heard two of them laughing about freshmen and their hangovers. I wanted to spin around and tell them they were wrong on both counts, but I was sort of incapacitated.

I took the time to wash my face. It was only polite. Deciding to leave my bag—complete with enough textbooks to take out a mortgage and my laptop—to the mercy of basic human decency, I turned left out the door and stumbled to the campus medical center. Sweat and saliva still flowed freely, making me afraid to open my mouth. Swallowing hard, I whispered to the receptionist that I needed to see a nurse.

“All right, honey, d’you have your student ID? Perfect. Have a seat; a nurse will be right out.”

The receptionist’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. She looked like someone who was watching her child get their seventeenth piercing. Who disappointed you, receptionist? The question floated lazily back and forth through my head, unanswered and unanswerable, utterly inconsequential but a distraction all the same.

“Shelley Smith?” a short, pink woman called from the doorway.

I had never seen anyone so pink. Her skin was flushed pink, her hair was dyed electric pink, and she wore pink candy-striped scrubs. I wanted to make a witty comment, but I couldn’t seem to come up with one even if I’d been brave enough to open my mouth.

“Your intake slip says sudden vertigo and tinnitus followed by excessive vomiting. Are you still experiencing the vertigo and tinnitus?”

I shook my head.

“Nausea?”

I nodded, and immediately regretted it.

The nurse offered me a trash can. I made use of it, and felt better almost immediately. Not just better. I was starving.

“Better out than in,” she said kindly.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, you do speak! That’s wonderful. All right, Shelley, are you sexually active?”

“Not currently,” I said with a sigh.

I wanted to be over him; I really did. It had been a month and a half already, and he had been a one-night stand. I knew I should really go on a few palette-cleansing dates, but I couldn’t seem to work up the interest.

“When were you last sexually active?”

I could feel the flush creep up my neck to my cheeks, and reminded myself that hers was a purely professional interest.

“About six weeks ago.”

“And the date of your last menstrual cycle? The first day, or as near as you can remember.”

“Not too long ago, I don’t think. Let’s see…it was before school started, so it should be close…oh, wait.”

My heart thudded hard against my chest as it skipped a beat. I looked up at the pink nurse with a mortifying realization.

“August,” I said in stunned monotone.

She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows at me.

“First things first, then.”

She handed me a cup and sent me off to fill it. I brought it back full, anxiety wracking my every nerve.

Silence fell thick and heavy in the room as she performed the test. She set the timer for three minutes, but the result came back in forty-five seconds.

“Well, that explains that,” she said decisively. “You’re pregnant, my dear.”

The room spun around me, sucking my oxygen away. I gripped the edge of the table to keep from tumbling off, sucking breath into my lungs as if I’d run a marathon. The nurse’s hands were on my shoulders and she was saying something, but I couldn’t process it.

Pregnant. I was pregnant. With a baby. A tiny human. Oh, God, I was growing a person.

“Inhale on three. One, two, three.”

I sucked in and my mouth filled with a chemical taste.

“Again. One, two, three.”

I inhaled again, and the room came back into focus. I could breathe.

“How long have you had asthma?” she asked.

“Asthma? I don’t have asthma.”

“You do now. Happens sometimes—bodies go wacky when you’re pregnant. I’ve seen girls develop allergies, diabetes, acne…you name it. I’m writing you a prescription for a rescue inhaler. Use it. Last thing you or the baby needs is to be deprived of oxygen.

“Now, we can manage your pregnancy here in the clinic in a pinch, but if you have insurance, I suggest getting yourself a good OB/GYN. First babies are wild cards; you don’t know what to expect and neither do your doctors.”

She tore off a slip of paper and handed it to me. “If the nausea gets debilitating—as in, you can’t keep down six meals in a row, you lose more than five pounds, or you can’t stomach water—come back and I’ll give you something for the nausea. I prefer not to, because those drugs always seem to get recalled ten years after they’re put out there, but I will if you absolutely cannot nourish yourself. Understood?”

“Yes,” I said, still dazed. “Thank you.”

She nodded briskly. “You’ll need to see someone as soon as you can for your initial ultrasound. You can make the appointment up front now, or with your regular doctor if you have one. Either way, make sure you get seen in a timely fashion. Most problems can be detected and accounted for so long as you catch them early. That is, of course, if you decide to keep the baby. The choice is yours; make a good one for you.”

“I will,” I promised.

Still dazed, I left the clinic to go retrieve my bag. To my surprise, it was still there in the bathroom, untouched. The lecture was wrapping up and I had missed all of the important points, but somehow, it didn’t seem like a big deal. Suddenly feeling that I couldn’t bear to be around so many people and their curious eyes, I collected my things and left.

It was a cool day. The briny breeze blowing off the bay calmed my nerves and woke my brain from its stunned trance. I walked figure eights around an abandoned pavilion, and I thought about my life. Up in the morning for class, school all day. Get off school, go to work, and work well into the night. That was it.

And I’m barely getting by, all by myself. Babies cost a ton of money. How am I going to afford this kid?

School would be out before the baby would. I could get a second job, I reasoned. But then, who would take care of the baby, and when would I see my child? No, that wouldn’t do. If I were going to go that route, I might as well just give the baby up for adoption.

The thought made me gasp as a shard of sheer pain pierced my heart. I couldn’t do that. Giving up the baby in any way, shape, or form was out of the question. I had already developed some kind of primal bond with it before I even knew it was there. I didn’t know how that was possible, but I knew it was true. This baby was mine, and I was going to do everything in my power to keep it that way.

“Takes two to make a baby,” I told my anxious heart. “He has the right to know.”

I argued with myself for several minutes. He had never called again after the night he’d canceled the date. No calls, no texts; he’d ghosted me. Money had transformed Miles from a kind, humorous, rough-around-the-edges dreamer to a cold, distant, heartless drone overnight. I would hate to see him now…except that all I wanted was to see him.

“That’s your hormones talking,” I told myself wryly. “You don’t really want to see him. He ghosted you, remember?”

Steeled by the armor I had built around my hurt feelings, I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. A monotone beeping interrupted the first ring, then an equally monotone voice told me that the number was no longer in service.

“Not just ghosted,” I realized out loud. “Completely cut out.”

Angry now, I decided that something as little as a changed phone number wasn’t going to stop me. He was a big deal now, right? The internet would know how to find him.

A quick search of his name brought up the contact information for his office in San Bravado. I hit the call button before I could talk myself out of it, and focused on nothing but my breathing as the phone rang.

“Dunn and Lane Enterprises. This is Nate Dunn; how may I help you?”

My heart dropped to my toes. All that, and I still didn’t get him on the phone.

“Hi Nate, may I speak with Miles please?”

“Mr. Lane is unavailable right now; is there something I can help you with?”

“Um…no, it’s personal. Extremely personal, and extremely urgent. Can you tell me when he’ll be available?”

“I’m afraid I can’t give out that information, but if you can tell me what this is regarding, I can get a message to him.”

“I would really rather just talk to Miles.” My voice shook and whined like a child’s, and I took a breath in a futile attempt to relax.

“Mr. Lane is a very busy man these days. What did you say your name was?”

“Shelley Smith.”

“That name sounds familiar. Have we met?”

“No, not officially, but I did see you pick him up after work one night, back when he worked at Finnegan’s? I worked with him there.”

“Ah,” Nate said with sudden warmth. “You’re Shelley Smith! He used to talk about you all the time. How are you? How’ve you been?”

“Oh.” My voice quivered, and I couldn’t keep it inside anymore. “I’m actually pretty shaken up. And nauseated, and pregnant, and I haven’t heard from him in weeks—almost months—and now it’s super important that he gets back to me because I don’t know what to do, and it’s his baby too, and he deserves to have a say in what happens, even if we aren’t together…” I trailed off, sobbing.

I didn’t even know why I was sobbing, but it felt like a pressure valve had been released somewhere in my chest. The tears continued to fall as I regained control of my breathing.

“I see,” Nate said sympathetically. “I believe that Miles will be back within the next few hours. I promise I will give him this message and your number, and he’ll get back to you as soon as he can.”

“Thank you,” I said, shocked at how eerily calm he was being about the whole thing. “And, um, thank you for listening without freaking out.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Nate said, sounding for all the world as if it really was. “Here’s hoping your day gets better.”

“It will,” I said. “As soon as he calls.”

But Nate had already said goodbye and hung up. He was as brisk and professional as Miles was warm and absent-minded. Maybe opposites really did attract.

Satisfied that I had done all I could do for the moment, and knowing that I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on a single thing until Miles got back to me, I made tracks for home. I could use a good three-hour nap before work, anyway.

I slept with the phone by my ear, but the only sound to wake me was my alarm. I hauled myself out of bed with a groan, feeling groggier after the nap than I had before the nap. Groggier, and grumpier.

I checked for missed calls and texts, but there was nothing. As I got ready for work, I imagined what a work day for Miles must look like now. Some coding, some management, maybe a conference or two. He was the boss, right? He should be able to find time to call me, especially for something this important.

“Maybe he just doesn’t do phone calls anymore,” I mused as I slipped into my work shoes. “He’s a tech guy; maybe he emails first. Crappy way to deal with the situation, but he hasn’t exactly been un-crappy.”

His behavior made me angrier than it should have. I’d really thought he was a better person than that. I figured that money changed people into the worst versions of themselves, and wondered briefly what my worst version would be. I shuddered and pushed the thought away. There were some things I didn’t want to know, even about myself.

Feeling more than a little pathetic, I opened my email on the off-chance that he had tried to contact me there. To my utter annoyance, he had.

Apprehensively, I opened the message.

Shelley,

I’m sorry to hear about your condition. As of now, I cannot make room in my life for you or a child. I won’t tell you what to do, but I want it understood that I will not be participating in the child’s life.

I ask that you keep news of the child and my involvement in its creation out of the media. To that end, I am willing to pay you support as a means of insurance against public embarrassment in the amount of $5,000 per month. That should be enough for you to care for yourself and the child. If you agree, please reply with your banking information so I may set up automatic payments. I would prefer to spend as little time as possible involved in this situation.

Sincerely,

Miles Lane

I felt like I had been punched in the gut. This was worse than ghosting. This was the worst thing anybody had ever said to me, and I’d heard some pretty rotten things flung in my direction—my mom, sister and I had gotten into some crazy screaming matches in our time. This response made me question everything I knew about humans in general, and Miles specifically. I hadn’t known he was capable of being that cold.

I put on what I thought was a brave face then cried myself to sleep when I got home from work. It seemed like the only thing to do.

Chapter 6

Shelley

One Week Later

“You really should have asked Mom to come with you.”

I shot my sister a death glare. “I swear, Jenna, if you breathe a word of this to her—”

“I won’t, I won’t,” she interrupted quickly. “But you should. Soon. Like, before your next doctor’s appointment.” Jenna shuddered and made a face.

“Oh, stop it, it’s not like you’re getting on the table.”

“Still. Doctor’s offices give me the creeps.”

“All you have to do is sit there.”

“And listen to them tell you just how soon your life is gonna be over.”

“Gee, thanks. Your support means the world to me.” I crossed my arms and slouched low in the passenger seat, glowering out the window.

Jenna sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I just don’t understand how you could be so irresponsible. Why the hell didn’t you use a condom?”

“We did! Clearly, they’re not always guaranteed to be effective.”

“They’re pretty reliable when used properly…”

“Can you stop? It’s not like any of this is going to change what happened.”

Jenna rolled her eyes and turned into the parking lot.

“How are you even judging me right now?” I wailed. “You don’t even have to worry about stuff like this!”

“If—God forbid—I was ever alone on an island with only men to sleep with, I would still have the good sense to use protection—and use it properly.”

“The only protection you need is the look on your face when you see a naked man.”

Jenna wrinkled her nose in disgust, displaying the exact look I was talking about.

“Ugh. Let’s get this over with.”

I checked in with the receptionist and sat down beside Jenna to wait. She sat primly in the chair, reading an outdated magazine with an air of utterly detached boredom. Disinterest was her shield against mortal dangers, and doctors and sticky substances were at the top of her list. When the nurse stepped out and called my name, I saw the hairs stand up across Jenna’s arms and I stifled a laugh.

“Shut up,” she muttered out the side of her mouth as we followed the nurse back. “I will leave you here.”

I straightened my face because there was a solid chance that she actually would—at least temporarily—and I really needed her there for moral support, no matter what form it took.

After the weigh-in and vitals, I found myself sitting bare-assed on a cold table, waiting for my doctor. Jenna perched on a chair, reading a different magazine. I watched her read the same page three times.

“You know, the words aren’t going to change, no matter how many times you read them,” I told her.

“Yeah, I have no idea what I just read.” She sighed and set the magazine in her lap, leaning her head back against the wall. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous; it’s not my uterus.”

“Exactly. So calm down. If I have to comfort you through this whole ordeal it kind of defeats the purpose of bringing moral support with me.”

“Is that what I’m supposed to be?”

“Well, I was hoping.”

“Moral support it is, then,” she sighed as she got up out of the chair.

The doctor came in at the same moment.

“Shelley! So nice to see you again. I hear you’re pregnant! Congratulations, or condolences—take one or both; I’m feeling generous,” she said warmly, her eyes widening as she spotted my sister standing behind me.

“Jenna! This is a surprise. I hope you’ll be making an appointment for your very, very late annual while you’re here. Unless you’ve found a different doctor?”

Jenna went pale and offered a grim smile. “Am I overdue?” she asked weakly.

“Extremely. You must need birth control by now, at the very least.”

“I’m covered.”

“Over the counter?”

“Lesbianism.”

“Oh, that’s right. I’m sorry; I can be forgetful. Anyway, sorry, Shelley, I’ll let you badger your sister into attending to her lady health some other time. For now, let’s take a look at that baby!”

Doctor Snow booted up her machine as I lay flat on the bed. The gel was almost too hot, and I’d braced for it to be cold, which didn’t help my general baseline of uncomfortable confusion. She hummed little thinking noises while she moved the wand around on my belly and clicked things on the screen.

“Hm…mhm…ah!”

“What is it—what’s wrong?” Jenna asked quickly.

“That, my dear, is entirely a matter of perspective. There might not be anything wrong at all; it could be a dream come true.”

“What did you say ‘ah’ about?” I asked, beginning to lose patience with both Jenna’s neurotic anxiety and Dr. Snow’s rambling communication.

“Here, let me show you. This is your uterus here. It’s just the slightest bit heart-shaped, see? And here’s your cervix, which looks nice and healthy from here. And over here…you see that little flutter? That’s your baby’s heartbeat. But, surprise! Move over this way, and there’s another heartbeat!”

“You have a mirror in your uterus?” Jenna asked shakily.

Dr. Snow shot her an annoyed look. “No, dear. Shelley’s having twins! They both look nice and healthy so far. You’re about six or seven weeks along, I’d say.”

No surprise there…

“How big are they right now?” I asked.

“Oh, about…this big. Just barely smaller than a blueberry, and they’re shaped like shrimp. Ooh, I still have that leftover scampi in the fridge—what time is it? Oh, good, lunchtime. As soon as I’ve answered all of your questions of course; I’m not going to shove you out of here in favor of scampi—” An audible growl from her stomach interrupted her, and she looked at me apologetically. “Do you have any questions?”

I had nothing but questions. Two little shrimp-shaped blueberries were about to change my whole life. “Um, when will they be born?”

“Good question! Let me pull my little calculator up on here, and…six weeks, first pregnancy, twins, October fourteenth would make it August twenty-third…variables in, push the button…right! Your little nuggets are due on May sixteenth, but I don’t expect them to hang out in there past April eighteenth.”

“Why?” I asked anxiously.

“Twins tend to come early because of the extra strain they put on your body. And it’s not really early early; most kids are ready to go at thirty-six weeks and use the extra four weeks to fatten up and lose their fur—”

“Fur?”

“Not really fur fur, just peach fuzz to protect them from the amniotic fluid. It can get a little acidic—”

“They’re going to be floating in acid?!”

The doctor’s stomach growled again and she winced.

“Tell you what. I’ll give you a present.” She wheeled her chair across the floor and bounced out of it to open a cupboard, then took two books from the top shelf and handed them to me.

“What to Expect When You’re Expecting Twins, and Gestation in Humans. The first one’s written for moms and the second is written for doctors, but you’re smart and curious. I’m sure you’ll be able to get through it. Read up, enjoy, and whatever questions come to you while you’re reading, write them down, and we’ll have a nice long talk next time. Sound good?”

“Yes,” I said gratefully as I took the books from her. “Thank you, Dr. Snow.”

“You are most welcome. Now, I really need to get to that scampi before I collapse. I swear, my metabolism is convinced that I spend all my time running!” She hurried out of the room, waving merrily at us as she went.

“Running her mouth, maybe,” Jenna grumbled.

“You’re just annoyed because you hate doctors,” I said absently as I skimmed the back covers of the books. “I can’t believe she gave me homework.”

“You seemed happy about it,” Jenna pointed out.

“Oh, I am! I need these. I’m just surprised she had them on hand to give out.”

The massive dump of information was slowly being sorted by my brain, kept apart from my emotions by a bubble of nameless anxiety. It was only after we were back in the car and on the road that the full weight of it all hit me.

“I’m having twins.”

“Yep.”

“That’s two babies, Jenna! How am I going to finish school with two babies? How am I going to work or live or anything? Remember that kitten I had? I couldn’t even keep my room clean with just a kitten to mess it up! Cats are clean creatures—way cleaner than babies—how am I going to keep a place sanitary with two babies and no sleep? I have to call Miles; he needs to know that it’s twins. He’ll change his mind—”

“Drop the phone. Drop it. Now, Shelley!”

I slammed the phone into my lap. I took a few deep breaths to calm down.

“You’re right,” I said. “I can’t call him. I’ll just get Nate again. I have to go out there. I’ll loiter around the office until he’s done for the day, then I’ll casually, accidentally-on-purpose run into him and say, hey! Thought you might like to know that the baby I told you about is actually two babies, and see if he can still brush me off in person! Ha! I wonder if he even really knows about it. I never actually talked to him, just Nate, and then he emailed me. But it’s just email; it’s not like nobody can type ‘sincerely, Miles Lane’ except—”

“Shelley! Good lord, you’re as bad as Dr. Snow,” Jenna interjected. “Look, squirt, I feel your pain. I do. This whole thing sucks and it’s terrible and he’s terrible for not being around to see you through it. But look at it logically. Would he be sending you thousands of dollars a month if he had any interest at all in being involved?”

“Maybe it was an impulsive decision,” I argued weakly. “Like, maybe he panicked and did the only thing he could think of in the heat of the moment?”

“Even for a millionaire, that’s too much money to commit to on a whim. He’s not interested, honey. You’re not going to be able to force him to be a father to his kids or a partner to you. I hate to say it, but that’s just the way it is.”

Anxiety and despair clutched at my chest, battling for dominance but only managing to get swallowed by each other.

“Jenna, what am I going to do?” I whispered. “Five thousand a month might be enough to keep a roof over our heads, but it isn’t going to help me maintain that roof. Or sneak in a nap. Or make sure I’m getting enough to eat. Damn it, Jenna, parenting is a two-person deal for a reason!”

My sister didn’t say anything. I didn’t expect her to.

I pressed my forehead against the cool window and allowed the full burden of the situation to fall squarely on my shoulders. I was going to be a single mother. A young single mother with no degree, living on hush money. It was too much.

“Gotta say, I never thought that you would be the one to live the soap opera life,” Jenna chuckled.

“I know, right? I keep expecting Evil Miles to pop up and say that he’s really the father, and then Good Miles to show up and defeat him in a sword fight, only to succumb to a brain aneurysm.”

“But the aneurysm doesn’t actually kill him, it just puts him in a really long coma while his evil business partner resurrects his twin,” Jenna added enthusiastically.

“And then their mother shows up to declare that neither of them is the real Miles, they’re both evil clones!”

Laughter felt good. Hanging out with Jenna felt good, too. For all the time I’d spent trying to get away from home and Mom and Jenna, they felt like anchors right now. I needed an anchor, or three.

Reluctantly resigning myself to single parenthood, I invited Jenna up to my apartment.

“What are you going to do about your degree?” Jenna asked.

I paused. “Well…I have until April, right? If I double up on a couple of classes, I’m sure I can get enough credits to graduate by then.”

“Right. You’re going to double up on classes when you’ve missed the last entire week because you can’t stop puking and sleeping long enough to go. Have you even been going to work?”

“Sort of,” I mumbled. “I clock in and everything, but I spend most of my shift with my head in the toilet. It’s not pretty.”

“Exactly. This isn’t going to be easy, Shelley.”

“Well, hell, I didn’t expect it to be easy, but I didn’t think it would be this damn hard!”

I burst into tears with no warning, another delightful little quirk of this whole pregnancy thing. I felt like my heart was breaking all over again.

“I have to make a phone call,” I said between sobs. “Stay, have a drink. Have all the drinks. I can’t touch booze for like a million years.”

Jenna gave me a worried look but took me up on the offer, pouring herself a generous glass of my favorite red wine.

“You better not be calling Miles,” she said, giving me that over-the-glasses serious squint which made her look just like our mother.

“Nope,” I sighed, wiping my eyes as I began to dial. “But this call could be just as bad. Hi, Mom?”

Jenna’s eyes widened.

“Shelley!” My mom sounded concerned. “How are you, is everything okay? Do you need money?”

Why is everybody trying to fix my life with money?

“No, I’m fine on money. Um…but there’s something I need to tell you, and a really big question I need to ask you, and I just…are you sitting down? Please sit down.”

“Oh, no. All right, I’m sitting. What’s going on, Shell? You sound like you’re crying. Are you crying?”

Her question just made me cry harder. I took a deep breath to calm my voice. It almost worked.

“I, um…I made a mistake. A little, tiny, huge, massive, ridiculous mistake. I messed everything up.”

“What happened, Shelley? Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

I sobbed and sniffled, mopping my face with a tissue.

“I’m pregnant,” I confessed in a sigh. “With twins, and the father wants nothing to do with us. I’m so sick—I didn’t know people got this sick—and there’s no way I can get my degree before the babies come, and the bar isn’t good for me with all the smoke and the unpredictable drunk guys, and I spend my whole shift throwing up anyway… Mom, can I come home?”

I sounded like a little kid to myself, calling home from summer camp. Might as well have been summer camp, for as long as I’d managed to make it on my own. I rolled my eyes at myself, disgusted with my own failure.

“You? You’re pregnant?” Mom sounded shocked and hesitant, as if she were waiting for me to say April Fool’s.

“Yes, me,” I said more forcefully than I had intended to. “Pregnant and unmarried and unloved and scared and I don’t know what to do and…I give up.”

She chuckled sympathetically, which made me feel better.

“All right, honey. You’re allowed to give up, and you can come give up at home. I’ll get your room ready. When do you want to come down?”

“I don’t know,” I sniffled. “A month? No, six weeks. I have to give a month’s notice on the apartment and I don’t want to pay for time I’m not going to use. That’ll give me time to wrap everything up here and get down there before I turn into a whole planet.”

“Planning always did make you feel better. Planning and reading. Do as much of that kind of thing as you can, okay? Trust me, it’ll help. I remember being your age, pregnant with Jenna…I completely forgot to do anything that made me feel calm and happy. I spent all my time feeling. Feelings are great and all, but they aren’t very good for your sanity. Protect your sanity, sweetheart, you’re going to need it. Twins! How exciting!”

“You’re thinking about buying matching sets of cutesy baby things, aren’t you?”

“What are grandmas for? Oh, grandma! God, that sounds terrible. We’ll come up with something else. I am entirely too young and spritely to be called that.”

“You just used ‘spritely’ in a sentence. I’m pretty sure that means you’re older than dirt.”

“A broad vocabulary never aged anybody,” she sniffed. “Now, go call your sister and have a good cry. I have preparations to make. Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too, and I’m two steps ahead of you. I’ll see you the first of December.”

“Can’t wait. See you soon, sweetheart.”

I wiped my face again as I hung up the phone. The tears seemed to have a mind of their own, flowing as they pleased with no consideration for the actual intensity of my feelings.

“Well,” Jenna said, raising her brows in surprise. “That went better than expected.”

“Yeah, it did,” I replied, smiling through my tears. “It really did.”

Chapter 7

Shelley

May in Monterey

“Ugh, why is it so hot?” I lowered myself into the sturdy wicker patio chair with a groan.

My mother chuckled softly and handed me a tall glass of lemonade.

“Imagine if you were this far along in August! That was me with your sister. I thought I was going to die. I don’t think I spent more than five minutes a day clothed that whole month.” Her eyes glittered with mirth at the memory, but there was a touch of sadness to them.

“You were my age when you got pregnant with her, right?”

“Oh, yes,” she sighed. “Your dad and I had only been dating for a couple of months when I found out. I couldn’t even picture myself as a mother at that point. I was a lot like Jenna, you know. Like both of you, I suppose. I always had a plan. My life plan was broken down into yearly, monthly, weekly, and daily parts.”

She gazed out at the fountain, the centerpiece of her garden, but she was seeing something else.

“Did you ever get your plan back on track?” I asked hesitantly.

She shot me an amused look. “Never. Once you bring another person into the world, you have to rewrite your plan from scratch. I intended to graduate at the age of twenty-five, then spend a year in Paris, and another in Milan. I really wanted to be at the heart of the fashion world, to swim in it until I understood every stitch and seam intuitively. Then, I would come back to the States, move to New York, and not stop working until I had my first show at Fashion Week.”

“You sound like a whole other person when you talk about fashion,” I said musingly. “You must have been really passionate about it.”

“Oh, honey, I was. Immensely. I gave myself a two-year buffer to succeed at my Fashion Week goal. Whenever I met that goal, I was going to come back here and open a business.

“I had a whole line in mind for my big debut. I think I still have the sketches around here somewhere. The styles are hopelessly out of date now, of course, but back then, they were cutting edge. Huge shoulders, big pockets, lots of interesting patterns and shapes…” She trailed off into a sigh. “But your sister came along, and then you almost immediately after, and there simply wasn’t any room in my life for those things.”

A lump rose in my throat and I had to fight back tears. I sipped my lemonade until my flaring hormones subsided and allowed me to wrestle my emotions under control.

“Why didn’t you ever go back to it?” I asked. “Once we were in school, I mean.”

She shrugged. “The economy started slipping. Your dad was having trouble making ends meet, so I had to take whatever job I could get. He got a promotion, I got a better job, and we were finally able to buy this house. Then, he got another promotion, and he was finally making enough to support us all on his own. We started talking about me going back to school to finish my degree.”

She chewed her lip for a moment, looking somehow younger, as if her past self was reflected in her face.

“Was that when…?”

She nodded, smiling at me though she was holding back tears.

“It got to be too much for him. He didn’t talk about things, you know. I didn’t find out until after that he had this passion built up inside of him, these plans and dreams. He wanted to travel the world, too—to design buildings in Tokyo and Rome instead of from his cubicle here. We could have worked something out together, if he had just told me…”

She trailed off, swallowing hard against the tears. A few escaped anyway, leaving silver trails in her makeup.

“Here’s to proud men who screw it up for all of us,” I said, holding my glass out.

She laughed and clinked her glass to mine, then took a drink.

“To proud men,” she agreed. “They’re kind of like kids. If you don’t take the time to listen to them when they want to tell you an hour-long story about the scribble they drew, they aren’t going to want to tell you about the cool things they did in school, or the problems they’re having with their friends, or that girl that they have a crush on, or that one time they smoked pot and freaked out. You have to lay the foundation of trust, no matter how stupid or infantile the thing seems.”

“Is this a lesson on dating or motherhood?” I asked playfully.

“Both,” she said with a grin.

My belly seemed to roll in on itself, sticking out even farther until it bumped the table in front of me. My tank top rolled up to settle under my breasts, and I readjusted on the chair. Mom was eying my belly cautiously.

“Was that the twins moving?”

“I don’t think so,” I said, still trying to find a comfortable position. “I’m not sure what that was.”

“Hm.” She pulled out her phone and checked the date. “May first. You still have a couple of weeks left, don’t you?”

“Technically, yes, but Dr. Snow said that they would probably come before the due date. I guess it’s a twin thing?”

“Hm, I see. Well, it’s a good thing we have the nursery set up.”

“Why? I’m not in labor.”

As soon as I said that, my stomach did the thing again. Only, this time, it knocked the breath out of me.

“Jeez, what is that?”

“An envy-worthy contraction,” she said with a laugh. “Six minutes. We have some time yet. How do you feel?”

“Like I need to take a walk,” I said as panic flickered through my brain.

“That’s a really good idea. I’ll walk with you. Ooh! I can show you my new azaleas!”

“I would really rather skip the botany lesson right now.” There was more of a snap to my words than I had intended, and I bit my lip.

Mom raised an eyebrow, but helped me out of the chair. As soon as I stood, another contraction hit. It crushed my spine like a steamroller, dropping me to my knees.

“Oh, wow, okay, maybe we skip the walk and go straight to the hospital,” she said, kneeling beside me to rub my back. “That was…well, it was four minutes. They say not to go until you’ve had ten of them, three minutes apart.”

“Yeah, let’s wait till then,” I said rapidly. “As soon as I get there, they’re going to strap me into monitors and make me lie down, and I really don’t think I can lie down right now. I really, really want to move.”

“All right, come on.” She braced herself and helped me lift my considerable weight off the ground. “Take my arm; we’ll walk. No botany, I promise.”

We walked—toddled, really—up the garden path, and she dialed a number on her phone.

“Jenna? Your sister’s about ready to pop. We’re walking around the garden now, but these contractions are the real thing. As soon as they pick up a little speed, we’ll head to the hospital. Can you come now? Yeah? Great, see you soon.”

I could feel them coming, now. A tiny, subtle spike of adrenaline hit the base of my neck a few seconds before my belly began to roll, letting me brace for the impact. I made it through my next contraction without breaking my stride, and the one after that. After several minutes, Mom frowned at me.

“Maybe I should call your sister back,” she said thoughtfully. “It’s been ten minutes since your last contraction.”

“I’ve had two since then,” I told her as the adrenaline hit. “And I’m about to have another one…now.” I breathed, letting my body tell me what to do. My mother looked at me slack-jawed and bug-eyed.

“How are you doing that? Don’t they hurt?”

“No,” I said honestly. “If I tense up at all, they do. I can tell they’ll hurt if I start to panic. I’m sure if they get any stronger they’re going to hurt. But right now, it’s just like doing slow crunches.”

She shook her head as we rounded the back of the yard and shot me a playful look. “Ugh, you disgust me. I was screaming by the end of my first real contraction, and I didn’t stop screaming until Jenna flew out of me. I was a little better with you, but not much.”

“Hence the tube-tying,” I said breathlessly as another contraction began.

“Yes, hence the…are you contracting again?”

I nodded, unable to speak.

“All right, you have to say something when they start; I’m trying to time you.”

“Does it really matter?” I asked impatiently.

“Yes, it matters,” she snapped. “You are not having these babies in my garden like some kind of feral cat, Shelley.”

I wanted to shout at her, but my voice was stolen by the invisible band tightening around my diaphragm.

“Contraction,” I croaked.

“Three minutes, to the second. Nine to go, then we get in the car.”

Every time she talked about going to the hospital, I started to sweat. I didn’t have nearly the same aversion to doctors that Jenna had, but the thought of doing something so dramatically personal in front of a room full of people was giving me something close to stage fright. Worse than stage fright. It was like being in a quiz show on national TV naked. I wasn’t ready for this, not by a long shot.

Which was why, when my water broke during contraction number six, I didn’t say anything. I wanted those last nine minutes of freedom, and I knew Mom would cut my time short if she knew. A pinkish-silvery trail followed me down the path, and I imagined that I was a snail. It’s not a belly; it’s my beautiful shell.

“I think maybe I’m losing my mind,” I told Mom.

“Why do you say that?” she asked sharply. “Do you know your name? Your address?”

“What? Yes, of course. My mind is just going to weird places, that’s all. The way it does when I get into a painting trance.”

“Yep, time to go. Come on, honey, let’s grab your bag and get to the car.”

“What about Jenna?”

“She’ll figure it out; she knows what hospital we’re going to.”

“Okay, okay, don’t rush—” A contraction cut me off, powerful enough to send me to my knees again.

“Damn it, I knew I should have made you leave sooner. Jenna was a quick labor, too. Can you stand?”

I shook my head.

“All right, breathe, it’s going to be okay. Let me know when it passes.”

I caught my breath in a rush, and stood as quickly as I could without using my abs.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Did the contractions stop?” Jenna was here, yelling from the back door.

“Nope! They’re picking up speed. Help me get her to the car.”

“God, why are you guys still here? Jeez, Shelley, you look like you’re about to ascend to another plane of existence or something. Why did you let her wait so long, Mother?”

“Don’t ‘Mother’ me. She’s way bigger than me and she has pregnant lady super strength—you think I was going to fight her? I tried to talk her into going, but she was feeling restless.”

“Of course she’s feeling restless; she’s got two people trying to crawl out of her! All right Shelley, back seat. Shelley? Earth to Shelley.”

“I’m in the back seat. What do you want?” I grumbled absently.

“Reassurance that you’re still with us,” Jenna said briskly. “Now, we…oh for heaven’s sake, where did Mom go?”

“I’ve got the bags! We can go now.”

“Is there anything in there that she’s going to need before the babies are born?”

“What? I don’t think so. Why, does she need something now? What do you need, honey?”

I closed my eyes and lay my head down on the cool seat. Curling up like this felt exactly right. I could almost sleep through the contractions in this position.

“A doctor, Mother—she needs a doctor. Buckle up.”

Jenna took off like a bat out of hell, pressing me hard into the back of the seat. The pressure was answered by my abdomen.

By the time we got to the hospital, the pressure had become rolling waves of pain. Mom had stopped calling out the minutes between, because there weren’t any. The second one contraction subsided, another one began. I’m not sure how I made it into the hospital room, but before I knew it, Dr. Snow was lifting my legs into stirrups.

“When did the contractions begin?” she asked.

I had no concept of time at that point, and was endlessly grateful that my mother was there.

“About an hour and a half ago,” Mom said.

“Shelley? Were there any contractions before that?” Dr. Snow asked.

I shook my head wordlessly.

“Good grief, you’re going to be a quick one, aren’t you? Well, just do me a favor and try to maintain control; we don’t want a traffic jam up in there. Speaking of which…”

She lay the bed flat—which was incredibly uncomfortable—and poked around my belly. It felt as if she were probing clear back to my spine, and a strangled scream burst from my throat as another contraction hit.

“All right, looks like they’re lined up and ready to go. As long as nobody gets a cord wrapped around anybody else, we’re looking good for a vaginal delivery. Yay! Trust me, it’s better that way. Your lady parts bounce back a lot faster than cutting your tummy open. Besides, I already did a C-section today. Too much of the same dulls your edge, you know?”

“Do you always talk this much?” my mother asked exasperatedly.

That made me laugh in spite of my pain, which triggered another contraction.

“I tend to ramble when I get excited—forgive me. I’ll let you do what you need to do, dear. As long as you keep those monitors on, you can get up and walk around or dance or squat or whatever you feel you need to do. Just stay close to the call button, don’t go anywhere alone, and keep those monitors on! I’ll be back to check on you in half an hour.”

I had never been more relieved to hear anything in my entire life. My greatest fear had been to be strapped to the table, unable to move around while these babies tried to squeeze through. Awkward with my constantly changing center of gravity, I fumbled my way out of bed.

“Music,” I gasped at Jenna.

“Your usual?”

“Dance. Latin pop.”

She nodded and opened the music app on her phone.

Moments later, music filled the room, and my body locked on to the rhythm as if it had been waiting for guidance. A primal dance moved through me, separate from my consciousness, connected to the music and the needs of my labor. I felt the larger twin settle low between my hips, and I rocked around the pressure, coaxing the baby into position.

I spent the next three hours like that. Dancing, then back on the bed so Dr. Snow could check my progress. Back onto the floor to work out the kinks. Up on the bed. Back to the floor. Then, at the end of the third hour, a hundred things happened at once.

Jenna smashed the call button. The monitor began to beep frantically. Nurses flooded the room, followed by Dr. Snow, who had a sandwich in one hand. I was herded onto the bed by people who were all talking at once, and I couldn’t tell which instructions were directed at me. I found myself lying on my side, holding my knees to my chest; then, I heard nothing but white noise and the sounds of my own guttural screams.

“First baby is a boy! Oh, patience second baby, let me get your brother out of the way…all right, I guess we’re just not going to let Dr. Snow snip anything yet, are we? There you go, good job. One more big push for me, Shelley, whenever you’re ready. Good girl! And, another good girl! Baby number two has arrived.

“Now, if you’ll just…okay, I guess we’re just doing everything at once, aren’t we? Better than waiting around, I suppose. There’s one…and two! All right, did we miss anything? No? Everything intact? Yes? Excellent.”

Empty. I felt as if my ribcage and my hips belonged to two different people, separated by an eternal void. I detached from reality entirely, floating through the room. I could feel the turn of the earth and taste the vibrations of sound. The world was unrecognizable, and I was the universe.

Then, I was on my back, and a nurse was pressing her fists into my belly. I heard her voice as an ethereal echo, but couldn’t interpret the words. They were just noises, senseless noises floating through the void. Another nurse joined her, and then there were four fists on my belly. Snow was doing something between my legs. It felt sharp, but it was over quickly.

The pain of the nurses’ fists finally grew intense enough to cut through my haze. I snapped back into the moment just in time to feel a contraction begin.

“There we go,” a nurse sighed as she shook out her hands. “Thought we were going to lose you for a second there, dear. I’ve never seen blood pressure drop so fast.”

I blinked, then ground my teeth as I contracted again. Now that I didn’t have the babies inside to press against, the contractions felt like hell.

“Why is this still happening?” I asked tearfully.

“Your uterus needs to shrink and cut off the blood flow. Without the placentas, you’re just bleeding. There’s one surefire way to…here we are.” The nurse took one of the babies from a different nurse and placed him on my chest.

“Your son,” she said warmly. “The sooner you breastfeed, the better. Speeds up the healing process.”

“And…your daughter,” Dr. Snow said as she placed the other baby on the other side of my chest. “Two for the price of one very intense labor.”

Stunned, I gazed down at the babies in my arms. They were absolutely beautiful—tiny and soft and perfect. I guided them to my breasts, hoping they would know what to do. I certainly didn’t.

My son did; he opened his tiny mouth and rooted around with his little button nose until he found what he wanted. The strength of his pull startled me. It was so different from anything I’d ever experienced that I didn’t quite know how to react.

My daughter wasn’t quite so active. She moved her mouth and head, but she seemed to be so tired. I could relate. A woman in purple scrubs came into the room a few moments later to help my little girl get started. She introduced herself, but I couldn’t pay attention. I was completely absorbed in my babies, head over heels in love.

“What are you going to name them?” Jenna asked as she petted my son’s fuzzy head.

Her touch caught his attention and his eyes opened for the first time. I gasped as tears welled up, choking me. The sound startled my daughter, who opened her eyes to look at me. It was a double heartbreak; they both had Miles’ eyes. I swallowed hard, but it didn’t stop the tears from flowing.

“He should have been here,” I said sadly as I gazed down at her. “You deserved to have him here.”

Jenna rubbed my shoulder, then sat down beside my mother. I kissed each baby in turn, careful not to break their latch. My tears splashed down onto their beautiful faces, which only made me cry harder.

“Don’t worry, my loves,” I whispered fiercely. “I’ll love you more than two parents ever could. I’ll love you so much you’ll never even miss his presence. From this moment on, everything I do is for you. You’re my whole world.”

My heart shattered, only to melt back together when I moved my son to my shoulder and he nuzzled my neck. It shattered again when I looked into my baby girl’s eyes, then melted once more when she curled up between my breasts and fell asleep.

In that moment, I knew that this was the shape of my life, now. From now until my heart forgot him, I would spend my life shattering and melting in undulating waves, like contractions in my broken soul.

Chapter 8

Shelley

Two Years Later

Just as I had on their first birthday, I awoke with the memory of their birth fresh in my mind. I wondered if it would be that way for the rest of my life, and decided that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

I had barely rubbed the sleep from my eyes when my door flew open and Vincent fell flat on his face. He looked up at me with a grin, his wild blond curls falling over his chubby little face.

“Mama!” he squealed, pushing himself up and running across the room to slam headlong into my mattress.

“Come here before you concuss yourself,” I laughed. I scooped him up and planted a raspberry on his belly, making him squeal again.

“Mama! Mama, up!” Frida called from the nursery.

“Did you abandon your sister?” I asked Vincent in a playfully shocked tone.

He giggled maniacally, and I couldn’t help but laugh with him. Tossing him over my shoulder, I shuffled around the corner in my tattered pajamas to find Frida scowling from her crib. Smaller and less athletic than her brother, my daughter frequently found herself stuck in place while Vincent moved with terrifying freedom through the world.

“Up! Up! Up!” Frida bounced on her toes with her little arms waving in the air. I scooped her up into my free arm and kissed her soundly on the forehead. Her strawberry-blond curls tickled my nose, making me sneeze.

Both kids thought it was absolutely hilarious. Their shrieking laughter roused my mom, who trudged blearily out of her room, wrapped in the same fuzzy pink bathrobe that she had worn when I was little.

“Didn’t I buy you a new robe last Christmas?” I asked, glancing pointedly at the threadbare waist and frayed hem.

“You did,” she said through a yawn. “But I like this one. It’s all broken-in already.”

“Definitely broken,” I teased.

She made a face at me and took Vincent from my arms before he climbed clear over my shoulder to tumble down the stairs. Coffee and fruit were on the menu for me, cheerios and apple juice for the twins, and Mom would eventually work her way around to an English muffin. It was a morning routine I enjoyed, because it gave me a solid twenty minutes in the morning when I didn’t have to decide anything.

“Ready for today?” Mom asked me.

“Ready to entertain a dozen toddlers and their parents? Not even,” I laughed. “I just hope Jenna gets here before the horde arrives.”

“Oh, it’ll be easy. Easier than all the babysitting you do. At least their parents will be here.”

“Babysitting gives me two, three extra kids at a time. A birthday party…”

“Birday?” Vincent asked, his sharp little eyes locking onto mine.

“Yeah, buddy, it’s your birthday today! Your friends are all coming over, and you’re going to get cake and presents.”

He stopped listening halfway through my sentence, distracted by a stray cheerio. I shrugged and sipped my coffee.

“Baby parties aren’t really for the babies anyway,” Mom whispered. “We parents just like inflicting the chaos on ourselves. It makes the rest of the year seem easy in comparison.”

I grinned at her assessment of the situation.

As the coffee swirled around my brain, activating all of my to-do lists, it was like the whole world snapped into focus. Good, I thought. If I can just maintain this level of focus until three, maybe we’ll all survive the party.

“I need to finish up that dress for Sasha. Can you handle the twins for an hour?”

“You need to do that now? We still have to get the place ready for the party!” Mom slathered strawberry jam on her muffin with excessive force, ripping through the delicate little bread pockets.

“She wants to take it home with her today after the party. If I don’t do it now, I’m not going to have another chance. It’s only, what, seven thirty? We’ll have time to set up.”

“If you say so,” Mom sighed. “Don’t get caught up in one of your artistic fevers, or we’ll never get it done in time.”

“I won’t, I promise. You two be good for Gran, I’ll be back in a little bit.”

I inhaled deeply as I stepped into the garage. Art permeated the very air in here, as the scents of ink and emulsifier clung to everything, accented by the dusty aroma of thrift store fabric. Sasha’s long sun dress hung on the center rolling rack, one of six garments that I was in the middle of making. Complex designs danced across the clothes in various stages of completion, and Sasha’s had just one part left before it was finished.

I examined my work from the previous few days. Green vines snaked up the dress from the hem, accented by little blue curls. Bright yellow dots swept across the tops of the vines, the base for the magenta blossoms which still needed doing.

I slid the dress over the repurposed ironing board until the yellow dots were centered exactly where I needed them. Leaving it, I moved to the dark room that my Mom—after several weeks of resisting—had finally let me build in one corner of the garage. As I turned on the light, the deep red glow warmed my creative juices. In this space, there were no broken hearts, no fatherless children, no sadness at all. There was only art.

I burned the silhouette onto the screen, meditating in my quiet place while it cured. Instinct—developed through nearly two years of careful honing—told me when to take the image out from under the lamp. Rinsing the screen brought another wave of calm; I was centered, secure.

I would never tell my mother, but my procrastination on this dress had been deliberate. If I was going to make it through this day with my sanity intact, I needed this time in this place. My well of patience was only filled by the deep silence and slow, firm, routine of creation.

Ink bled through the screen, penetrating the thin fabric of the dress below. Little magenta petals brought the design to life, creating a field of impressionistic flowers across the skirt. They would dance when she twirled and wave when she walked, turning her every movement into a breeze. I took my time with it, making sure I got it just right; I wanted this to be perfect. Sasha was the mom all the other moms looked to for shopping advice, and I wanted her tongue wagging in my favor.

I sighed happily as I finished the last flower, then checked the time. Eight forty-five. Mom would forgive the extra few minutes as long as I busted my butt to set up for the party.

I turned on my little second-hand oven and let it preheat while I cleaned up. The screen took a chemical bath to remove the stencil, and the squeegee was scrubbed within an inch of its life. Even the cleanup routine was a bit meditative.

When the oven was hot, I baked the dress. A silicone tray protected the thin fabric from the hot metal rack. This part always set my nerves on edge; too little time and the design would fade. Too much time and it would bubble, any more time and the dress would catch fire. I had to remind myself to breathe as I glued my eyes to the window. Four minutes and fifty-two seconds later, I pulled the dress out of the oven.

“Perfect.”

At that same moment, a shriek hit my ears at just the right frequency to make me panic. Tossing the dress over the rolling rack, I dashed out of the garage and into the kitchen. Vincent was wailing and holding his head as my mom struggled to hold him.

“He ran under the table,” she explained breathlessly, her hair and eyes as wild as my son. “Too tall to manage it.”

“Come here, baby,” I said, holding out my hands.

He launched himself through the air, forcing me to catch him before he face-planted on the tile floor. He buried his face in my chest and sobbed as Frida looked on with wide blue eyes and a thumb in her mouth.

“He’s okay, Frida,” I told her as I combed his thick hair away from the bump to check for blood. “Yeah, you’re okay, buddy.”

His screams shuddered to a halt; then, he lifted his head so fast he nearly head-butted me in the jaw. He slapped his two pudgy hands on my cheeks and looked deep into my eyes. The familiar lump rose in my throat as I saw Miles reflected in Vincent’s perfect little face. I swallowed it—which was getting easier as time went by, but I doubted it would ever really be easy—and kissed his forehead.

“No running in the house,” I told him firmly.

He grinned at me and wriggled in my arms. I put him down so I wouldn’t drop him, and turned to my mom.

“Where’s the to-do list?”

“Right here.” She puffed out her cheeks and swept the list up off the table. “Okay, so we need to get pizzas and chips, pick up the cake and balloons, set up the ball pit, fence off the lawn, set up the bubbles, and make the punch.”

“Great. I’ll take Vincent and run the errands if you watch Frida and get started here.”

She tried to hide her relief, but failed. She was still a few years short of fifty and had plenty of energy for most kids, but Vincent was a special kind of trouble, and he managed to exhaust both of us most days.

Splitting the kids and the chores up allowed us to have the house set up half an hour before the first kid toddled to the door with his hand wrapped around his mother’s finger.

“Hi, Charlie! Hi Mary, how are you?”

Vincent toddled up behind me and grabbed Charlie’s hand. Together, the two boys made for the living room in that weaving, half-drunk sort of way that toddlers run.

“Oh, thank God,” Mary said under her breath as she shot me a grateful smile.

“Long day?” I asked.

“Long year,” she said as she stepped inside. “I swear, he’s gotten clingier since I went back to work. He wasn’t exactly standoffish before, you know? God, you’re lucky.”

Startled, I asked, “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know, just that you don’t have to work.”

I smiled tightly. “I do work,” I reminded her.

“Oh? You don’t mean those crafts you’re always doing? Or the babysitting? Come on, Shelley, that’s not really work. Not the same way! You don’t have to leave the kids, for one thing. And honestly, isn’t that more like a hobby? You aren’t exactly making a living at it.”

My sharp retort was delayed by the arrival of Jill and her mother April. April and I had been friends in high school, and had picked up right where we left off when I moved back to Monterey. She smiled sunnily at me as she released Jill to go find the other kids.

“Hey chick! How’s business?”

“Booming,” I told her as I embraced her warmly. “Just finished a new piece this morning.”

“On top of all this?” she asked, sweeping an arm to take in the festooned house. “Girl, I wish I had your stamina.”

“Shelley, don’t let her lie to you; this girl can go for days.” April’s husband Dean grabbed her from behind and nuzzled her neck with his fuzzy beard. She squealed and slapped him, and I rolled my eyes. They always had been loudly affectionate, and I still found it amusing after all these years.

“I didn’t mean like that, Dean,” she said exasperatedly. “I meant like Shelley, with her passion for screen printing of all things. Not that there’s anything wrong with screen printing, I just wish I had passion like that for…well, anything.”

“Aw,” Dean pouted.

“Again, not like that,” she shook her head at him, then kissed him firmly. “Go play with the kids.”

He beamed at her and trotted away.

“He listens so much better than he used to,” I said, my eyes twinkling.

“Yeah, gotta get them trained early. They’re virtually unbreakable after they can legally drink.”

We shared a laugh and she stood with me by the door while I greeted more parents and their children.

“Bet you’re not thrilled to be back in this place,” she said with a conspiratorial glance. “I guess you’re planning to make a break for it as soon as the kids are in school, right?”

Her question hung in the air as I answered the door for three kids I babysat regularly and their poor harried mother.

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s starting to grow on me. Don’t get me wrong, this town is still as exciting as a bowl of oatmeal, but…” I shrugged, gazing out the door at the line of unlocked cars parked on the quiet, sunny street. “That’s kind of what I like about it. I don’t have to worry about the kids growing up here. There’s so little trouble for them to get into, you know?”

“True,” she said pensively. “I guess the responsible thing would be to stick around until they grow up.”

“Don’t sound so depressed about it,” I laughed. “Why, were you thinking about leaving?”

“Only all the time,” she said with a wry twist of her lips. “I don’t know, I think having Danni right out of high school sort of threw me. I had all these big plans to see the world, and then suddenly, I was a mother. I never had the chance to get homesick, you know?”

I did know, but I only had the chance to send her an understanding smile before the living room exploded with the offended shrieks of toddlers.

April and I hurried out together to see what the trouble was, and the chaos lasted up until the minute lunch was served. Mom had taken the time to cut the pizzas into half-bite-sized bits for the little ones, which was as much a curse as it was a blessing, since smaller bits made better projectiles.

Jenna arrived in the middle of lunch, and I answered the door.

“You have pizza stuck to your forehead,” she told me.

“Oh. Thanks. How was your drive? Did Anita come with you?”

Jenna gave me a look that was just shy of a death glare. “She did not.”

Overwhelmed with children and mess, I was oblivious to what she wasn’t saying. “That’s too bad. It’s a long drive to make on your own. Why couldn’t she make it?”

“Because she was caught with her hand in someone else’s cookie jar,” Jenna seethed.

It finally registered for me. “Oh. Oh! Oh, I’m sorry, Jenna.”

“Thanks. I’m not too broken up about it. She liked to keep ferrets, and I was not looking forward to the ‘moving in together’ conversation.” She shuddered violently and I laughed.

A chorus of “Oh, no!” met my ear from the dining room, and I hurried away to manage the latest spill. The pizza was mostly eaten or destroyed at this point, so with the help of a few other parents I cleaned up, turning over the dining room for cake. The kids were getting restless in their chairs, so I hurried to retrieve the double-chocolate cake for the twins.

The way their little faces lit up just about broke my heart. Those blue eyes blazing with excitement in the low light, they were the very image of their father.

I sang to them around the lump in my throat, but was quickly losing my composure. As soon as they blew out the candles, I pressed the knife into my mom’s hand and fled to the kitchen. I couldn’t bear to have the whole neighborhood see me cry, and I just couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“I was wondering how long it would take for you to break,” my mom said sympathetically when she walked in several minutes later. “There must be a dozen toddlers out there. Maybe more. That’s too much for anybody to take on.”

“Oh, it’s not the kids,” I sniffed, wiping my eyes. “Not really.”

She sat down across from me and held my hand, worry shining in her eyes. “Then what is it, honey? What’s wrong?”

His name caught in my throat, a dam holding back a flood of tears. It hurt my heart to keep it there, but I knew it would break all over again if I let it fall. I took the heartbreak. The constant ache had hurt me enough for one lifetime.

“It’s Miles,” I sobbed as the floodgates came crashing down. “He should be here! He should see them; he should know them! How can he sleep at night knowing that they’re out here, fatherless, while he runs around the country with gold-digging models and never…never…they’re his! How can he?”

Tears washed away my babbling words and I dissolved once more into sobs. Mom moved around the table to wrap her arms around me, and I buried my face in her shoulder.

“Shelley, we swore that we wouldn’t speak that name in this house. Remember what happened last time? When he was the world’s most eligible billionaire or whatever, and had that candied giraffe on his arm? You just about lost your mind and called him. He isn’t worth your pain, my love. He isn’t worth your tears.”

She was right. He wasn’t. But, damn it, the twins were worth his time. I fed my despair into the furnace of my anger, letting the heat dry my eyes.

“You’re right,” I told her. My voice was still shaky and I cleared my throat. “You’re absolutely right. He isn’t worth that, any of it.”

I cleaned my face and hugged her again, grateful that she and I had managed to build a solid relationship after all. Before I went away to college, I’d never thought that would happen.

Just as I was steadying myself to brave the horde of children again, Jenna popped into the room, virtually vibrating with excitement.

“You are never going to guess what just happened,” she gushed. “I just got a call from the newspaper to tell me that they just got a call from the California Press Association—”

“Who did they get a call from?” I asked.

“Oh shut up,” Jenna laughed. “I’ve been named tech journalist of the year!”

“Oh my God!” I jumped on her with a bear hug, squeezing the breath out of her. “That’s super exciting! Are you excited? You should be excited; that’s exciting!”

“Shelley, don’t suffocate your sister. Congratulations, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Jenna said as her face turned from tomato red back to her usual pinkish glow. “Best part is, there’s this awards ceremony. Very glamorous, a lot of who’s-who of the tech world. I’m going to be doing some monstrous networking, and I have the best dress in the world for it picked out already. Shelley, how would you like to be my plus-one to this thing? Since I’m a single woman once more as of today—thanks, Anita—I don’t want to go by myself, and you’d be better company anyway.”

Vincent squealed in delight from the next room, answered by groaning parents. I didn’t want to imagine what he’d done to get such a reaction, but I figured it was something messy or destructive. It usually was.

“Where is the ceremony?” I asked hesitantly.

“San Bravado, next week. You and I will go, then spend the night in a fancy hotel on the newspaper’s dime. You’ll flirt with rich young men, I’ll keep my eyes peeled for a cute assistant in desperate need of some attention…we’ll have a great time!”

It did sound like a great time, in spite of the idea that I might have to share a room with Jenna and one of her conquests. But San Bravado…

“It’s too far away,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ve got the kids.”

Jenna cast a pleading look to our mother.

“Shelley, go,” Mom said. “You’ve been in mommy mode for way too long. Go, have some fun! You’re only twenty-five; you can’t bury yourself yet. Trust me, honey—you need this.”

“You so do,” Jenna agreed emphatically. “When was the last time you got dressed up? I mean really dressed up.”

“I… God, I can’t even remember.” It was easier to say that than the truth, which was that the last time I’d gotten dressed up, I’d subsequently been stood up and had then discovered that I was knocked up. An involuntary shudder shook me at the memory.

“Exactly,” Jenna said firmly. “You’re drowning under mom duties, Shell. Come with me. Please?”

“But Vincent…”

“Oh, I complain a lot, but he’s not that bad,” my mom intercepted. “I just gotta be quicker than him, is all. Don’t worry about a thing, Shelley; I can take care of the kids for a night or two.”

I was feeling the pressure from all sides. Still, I hadn’t been away from the kids overnight…ever, I realized. It made me nervous. Just then, Frida began banging her spoon on the table.

“Mama! Mama! Up! Mama, up!”

“Yes,” I told Jenna quickly. “Yes, I’ll come.”

Chapter 9

Miles

The Multi-Billionaire Life

I grew up on songs about fast cars and fast women. I guess most people do. The music might change, but the lyrics pretty much stay the same. I’d always thought that was the dream. To make it rain money. To have super models and starlets throw themselves at your feet. The upgraded American dream, you know?

It wasn’t until I had it all that I began to hear the loneliness behind the lyrics. It had all been a flurry of parties and booze and sex at first, dazzling to my young and naive mind. It didn’t take long for the magic to fade. I was still passionate about my work; the company had grown to be everything I had dreamed of, and more. The first app had been more successful than I could have imagined, and we rode its success to develop more and more.

The fastest rising star in the tech business. I’d never thought I would be at the top of something like that. I had wanted to be, but I used to dream a lot smaller. Now, with business booming at the speed of light and cash pouring in faster than I could count it, I realized that Nathan and I had built something that would last generations.

The only problem was, there were no generations for me, and no prospects to create them. Don’t get me wrong, there were plenty of girls—lines of them, girls as far as the eye could see—but no wife material among them.

“What do you want to settle down for, Miles? You’re not even thirty yet; what are you even thinking about parenthood for?” Nathan poured himself a drink in the large shared lounge between our offices, and offered me one. I declined.

“It’s not that I want the whole lot right now—wife, kids, dog,” I told him. “But I want more than what I’m finding. I want the potential for a real, lasting relationship with someone compassionate and three-dimensional, someone who’s passionate about something other than fame and money.”

“Oh, you want passion? Have I got the girl for you! She’s a wildcat, man.”

“I’d rather not lick up your leftovers, thanks.”

“Oh, come on. I dated her a year ago; it’s not like you’re diving right in after me. We still keep in touch, and she’s mentioned you more than once. She’s interested, and she hasn’t even met you yet.”

“Which means it’s my wallet she’s interested in,” I sighed.

“Or your good looks. Or the rumors about your skill in bed. I swear, I hear more about you than I ever wanted to know. You sure you don’t want a drink?”

I glanced at the clock. “It’s barely noon.”

“What does it matter? We’re rich, Miles! The normal rules don’t apply. We could be drunk off our asses at nine in the morning, and who’s going to chastise us? Nobody, that’s who. Because we run the show now.”

He walked to the window and looked over the city, gesturing with his martini glass.

“You and me, standing on top of the world, squinting down at all those peasants just dying to catch a glimpse of us. Doesn’t that get you high on life?” His eyes blazed as he turned the question to me, glittering as if he’d breathed in the most intoxicating smoke.

“I don’t know,” I said dismissively. “I miss being able to get lost in a crowd, or have a normal conversation with a woman. Every date I’ve been on lately feels like an interview, with her as the prospective employee.”

“Exactly! That’s the whole point, Miles. You have your pick of the most beautiful, successful, sexy women on the planet. I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

I shifted uncomfortably—it was difficult to do, seeing as the chair I was in was arguably the most comfortable chair I had ever sat on—and searched for a way to express what had been tumbling around in my head for months.

“I want that feeling again,” I told him.

“What feeling?”

“That feeling of…completeness. Like I could talk to her for hours and never run out of things to say, or listen to her for hours and never get bored. I miss that subtle chemistry, where you both know what’s up but nobody’s pushing. I want a woman who’s a friend as well as a lover, someone fully developed in her own right who doesn’t need my money to feel complete.”

Nathan smirked. “Good luck, man. I’ve never even met a woman like that. I’m pretty sure they only exist in girl-next-door movies.”

“They exist,” I said confidently, recalling a pair of laughing green eyes peering out from beneath strawberry-blond hair. “I know they do.”

Nathan shook his head with a patronizing smile. “You don’t exactly have time for that. We’re growing at an unprecedented rate; you’re going to need your full attention on your work. That being said, you’re still going to need a date to that thing on Saturday. Give Jasmine a call; she’s dying to hear from you. Take her out tonight for a test drive. Who knows, maybe she’ll turn out to be your unicorn.”

“If you dated her, I very much doubt it.”

“Jump off a bridge,” he said with lazy good humor. “Here’s her number. Call her, or I’ll call her for you, and tell her that you fell in love with her description and are planning to propose the second you see her.”

“You’re an ass.”

“And you’re a wuss. Call her.”

He flicked a business card at me and I caught it. Jasmine Dyme, Fashionista.

“What even is a fashionista?”

“A girl who knows how to package the goods, my man. Trust me on this.”

* * *

Nate wasn’t wrong. When I picked Jasmine up at the front door of her luxury apartment building, it took me a full minute to regain the use of my tongue. She was built like an hourglass and dressed in a glittering red dress. It was slit up to her hip and the neckline dropped under her opposite shoulder, giving the impression that she could be fully exposed in a heartbeat.

“Hi,” she said breathily as she slid into my car. “Oh, you are handsome! I’m Jasmine.”

“Miles. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, you too! I’ve been dying to meet you for months. You’re a hard man to get in touch with, you know. I’m super glad you called; I was about to give up on you.”

I was flattered in spite of myself. “You actually put work into getting this date with me? Don’t tell me you went out with Nathan just to get to me.”

She giggled, and the sound grated on my nerves. Not a deal breaker, I decided firmly. Just one of those things to get used to.

“No, silly! Nathan was number twenty-two.”

“What?”

“Oh, I know this way! You’re taking me to that one restaurant, the one with the girls in the fish tank…”

“Mermaid Cove, yeah. Is that all right?”

“Oh, that’s perfect! I love watching the mermaids. How do they hold their breath for so long? Do you think they’re real mermaids? No, that’s ridiculous, mermaids aren’t real. What kind of music do you like, Miles?”

She turned the radio on without waiting for an answer and clicked through all of my preset stations.

“Punk, indie, hip-hop, oldies…classical?! You’re a music slut!”

“What music do you like?” I asked, swallowing my irritation.

“Country,” she said adamantly. “I see it’s missing from your buttons. That’s all right; I’ll fix it.”

“No!”

She snatched her hand back and looked at me, shocked.

“Please don’t change the presets,” I said more calmly.

“But you don’t have country!”

“I am aware.”

“But why don’t you have country?”

“Because I don’t like country.”

“Oh, that’s silly, you’re a red-blooded American boy; of course you like country.”

She moved her hand toward the radio again and it took everything in me not to slap her wrist like an errant child. Instead, I grabbed her hand and laced my fingers through hers.

“Ooh, romantic! Honestly, I’m surprised it took you so long to touch me. This is my ‘touch me’ dress. You lasted about fifteen minutes longer than most guys.”

“We’ve only been driving for ten.”

“I know!” She cackled at her own twisted bit of humor and I stared blandly out the windscreen. I was going to kill Nathan for this.

We finally made it to the restaurant after another five excruciating minutes. To my dismay, Jasmine ordered an intricate appetizer and a meal which would take forever to cook. If she even thought about getting the soufflé for dessert I was going to swear of dating for the rest of time.

“So, tell me about yourself,” I said, reluctantly sliding into the role of interviewer. “What exactly is a fashionista?”

“I’m a fashion guru. I know what trends are gonna be hot and what’s going out, I know how to dress any body type—that shirt looks terrible on you, by the way; it’s really not your color—and I use my knowledge for the good of mankind.”

“How’s that?”

“I blog! And consult. I make sure that when you men walk around with your ogling eyes all over us women that you like what you see. I totally called the skinny jean craze before it happened, and checkered belts.”

I did some quick calculations and suppressed a dismissive glare. She would have had to be four or five when the checkered belt fad began. Why lie about something that irrelevant?

“What about you—what is it you do?” she asked.

I frowned at her, but smoothed it out quickly.

“I thought you had spent all this time researching me to get a date. Don’t you know?”

“Oh, I know you do something with computers or something. I don’t really pay attention to that stuff.”

“Then what possessed you to want to date me?” I asked, exasperated.

“Forbes!”

“Forbes?”

“Ooh, our food!”

I ate my shrimp cocktail slowly and crunched the tails. She didn’t seem to notice. I wondered just how rude I could be before I frightened her off, but decided against testing it. There was neither need nor desire to stoop that low. All I had to do was never call her again, and she wouldn’t be able to reach me. I was insulated away from annoyances. It was one of the better perks of being a billionaire.

Somewhere in the restaurant, a baby cried. Jasmine wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something terrible and looked around for the offending creature.

“Ugh. Who brings a baby to a place like this? Like, obviously people are here to get away from grubby little disasters. It’s just so rude to inflict your spawn on other people.” She sniffed haughtily and took a bite of her food.

“So, you wouldn’t bring your child to a place like this?” I asked her.

“Child?! Honey, the only way I’m having a baby is if it’s a condition of the prenup, and even then, they’d better put me under and have a plastic surgeon on standby. I did not work this hard to look this good to let some thing mess it all up for me.”

I nodded. I wasn’t surprised at her opinion, though I was a bit shocked at her ownership of it. Most of the women I had dated had skirted such questions, hemming and hawing, unwilling to admit that they felt that way. As much as Jasmine grated on my nerves, at least I could applaud her honesty.

“Oh, God, you want kids, don’t you?” Her eyes widened in a strange combination of fear and mockery. “Good lord, why?”

“Same reason as anybody, I guess. To carry my name. To bless my blood with immortality.”

“That’s what plastic surgery is for.”

“You enjoy plastic surgery, don’t you?”

“Of course! You should have seen me before. Actually no, no you shouldn’t have, nobody should have. Ugh. Point is, in this day and age, with all the troubles in the world, it’s like, morally wrong to bring a child into this cold, cruel world.”

She was utterly transparent and she wore her self-absorption like armor. Some poor guy could spend years chipping away at that facade and never reach the real Jasmine.

More likely, though, was that she would find herself a rich husband who ignored her until it was time to show her off or take her to bed, and they would die a slow death in adjacent bubbles of mutual disinterest. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, but Jasmine almost seemed like she wanted that.

“So,” I said, more to fill the air than anything else. “You mentioned Forbes. I wasn’t aware they had a dating section.”

She giggled that grating laugh and slapped the air at me.

“They don’t, silly! What they have is the thirty under thirty list. I’ve been checking men off of it all year. Glass slippers are outdated, you know. If you want to find your prince, you gotta put in the legwork.”

She smiled smugly at me as if her single-minded gold-digging was a thing to be proud of. I offered a tight smile in return. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

“I gotta say, though, you’re the most handsome of the whole bunch. I thought it would be Nathan—he’s very pretty—but you’re on a whole other level. Like, you’re really wasted in tech. You should be in movies.”

“I don’t have the right temperament,” I said dismissively.

“Oh, sure you do! Look at you, all fake humble arrogance and low-key swag. You’re exactly the movie star type.”

“I can’t act.”

“Nobody can, darling; that’s why they pick people to play roles to match their personalities.”

There was only so much cynicism I could take in a single evening. I excused myself to the restroom and dawdled there for a solid ten minutes. When I returned, to my relief, she was nearly finished eating. We skipped dessert in spite of her whiny objections and I took her home. As we pulled up in front of her building, she turned a pair of fine-tuned bedroom eyes on me.

“If you want to come upstairs, the parking lot is right around the corner.”

“I’ll pass tonight, thanks.”

She leaned close to me, her cumbersome, surgically-enhanced breasts nearly falling out of her dress.

“You don’t really want to skip dessert, do you, Miles?”

“I’m full.” My tone was as flat as my expression, and she finally got the message.

Storming out of the car with a huff, she held the door and turned to face me.

“I just want you to really understand what it is you’re passing up on.” With that, she pulled her top down and unleashed her excessive bust to the night air, before indignantly stuffing it all back in. I didn’t allow any reaction to register on my face until she slammed the door and spun away.

“Craziest yet. I’m gonna kill him. I am going to kill him.”

I turned on the radio to blast the night’s events out of my brain. A crooning woman asked where all the good boys have gone, and I snorted a humorless laugh.

“Boys? How about girls? Where the heck are they, Ms. Radio Star?”

Shelley’s wholesomely beautiful face flitted through my mind again. On a wild impulse, I turned the car around and hit the gas. I didn’t know where they were now, but I did know where one used to be. If I was very, very lucky, she might still be there.

* * *

Finnegan’s hadn’t changed a bit in the last two years; at least, not from the outside. Inside, it had received a full remodel. I didn’t see any familiar faces as I walked through the new emerald-green decor, and for the first time in years, I felt exceptionally awkward.

“What can I get for you?” the brusque bartender asked as I approached.

“Um…some information, if you can. I’m looking for a girl.”

“We all are, bro. Got a type in mind?”

“Her name’s Shelley, Shelley Smith. Gorgeous girl, strawberry-blond, green eyes, about this tall? She used to work here.”

The man shook his head. “Not since I’ve been here. You sure you got the right bar?”

“Yes,” I sighed. “How long have you worked here?”

“’Bout two years now. The owner bailed after some kind of scandal; new managers hired all new staff, pretty much. I don’t remember the details; I got everything second-hand anyway.”

“Where is Mr. Finnegan now?”

“Moved to…Tijuana, I think?”

I cursed under my breath, then thanked the guy. As I glanced helplessly around the altered bar, I noticed Jeff, the old janitor, sweeping cigarette butts off of the floor by the door as inconspicuously as possible. He wasn’t easy to notice, but he never intended to be.

“Hey, Jeff.”

“Hey, look who it is! Mr. Bigshot with the all models on his arms. How you been, Miles?”

I shook Jeffrey’s calloused hand, smiling at the recently unfamiliar familiarity.

“Doing pretty good. Yourself?”

“Just workin’, man, same as always.”

“Hey, do you remember Shelley Smith?”

“Do I remember? How could I forget? Those legs, that hair! That figure, know what I’m saying? Yeah, I remember.”

“What happened to her?”

He shrugged, leaning on his broom. “Don’t know, man. She quit about, I don’t know…a month after you did? Maybe a little longer. Before winter, though.”

“And you don’t know where she went?”

“Nah, man. She was real quiet those last few weeks. Cryin’ and stuff. I told her I’d break the face of anybody who broke her heart, but she wouldn’t tell me anything. I don’t know, guess she just got tired of this place.”

“Guess so. Well, thanks anyway, Jeff. Don’t work too hard.”

“Never do,” he said with a laugh. “Don’t make too much money!”

“No such thing,” I said, because he expected me to.

I was beginning to wonder, though. What was the point of having all this money if only the most vapid, materialistic women wanted anything to do with me?

On the long ride home, I replayed every moment of my one, mind-blowing night with Shelley in my head. She’d been the most thrilling, complete, enticing, perfect woman I had ever been with. I suddenly couldn’t remember why I hadn’t pursued her back then.

“Probably better that I didn’t,” I told myself to sooth the empty ache in my core. “Nathan’s right; it’s not like I have time for a full-time relationship right now, anyway. Better to forget her.”

I tried, earnestly and with full intention. But no matter what I did, she remained, flitting around the corners of my mind, peering out me from every pair of green eyes I happened to see.

* * *

After two years of heartbreak and separation, Miles and Shelley are soon to find out that they have a lot of catching up to do!

Second Chance Twins is available on Amazon now!

CLICK HERE TO GET IT

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