Chapter 7 #2
Despite knowing Grayson for years, his family practically my own, I can never seem to get used to the generosity and care Allie and Carlton Crawford give me. Allie, especially. She stepped up for me the moment I walked into her house with my too-small shoes, ratty old T-shirt, and skeletal frame.
Since that day, she made sure I was always fed. Had shoes that fit. Clean clothes that wouldn’t make the other kids bully me.
And most importantly, she gave me the motherly love that I had been deprived of for years.
I’ve heard about the deep connection mothers form with their children and even that wasn’t enough to make her love me. Yet someone who has no obligation to me stuck around.
It’s something I still can’t seem to grasp, and I don’t think I ever will.
All I know is that the people who care about you leave. Whether it be my mother dumping me on the side of the road like an unwanted dog, the foster parents who sent me back to the home, or even the teachers that swore to help only to forget about me the moment I stepped out of their classroom.
Everyone left.
But not Grayson and his parents. Yet, a small voice whispers in my head.
Clinging to Emmy a little tighter, I make another promise to her, one of a million to come, though this one might be the most important of all.
I swear on my life that my daughter will never feel the way I did growing up.
Blowing out a breath, I confess, “I feel bad, but I would be a fool to turn their help away right now.”
Grayson snorts. “You could try but you know what she’s like.” He grows quiet, no doubt thinking back to the year he didn’t speak to her out of misplaced guilt. He shakes his head and the cloud recedes. “Have you sorted details out with Layla yet?”
“No, I haven’t,” I sigh, my mental to-do list becoming an endless growing thing to conquer.
Grabbing a towel on the deck from the few Bella managed to scrounge up before our water fight, I bundle Emmy in it like a burrito, rubbing my hand up and down her back.
Her shivers are getting fiercer and her baby teeth are chattering.
“I’ll let you get her dry,” Grayson says. Moving to wrap an arm around Bella, he places a small kiss on her temple. “Come on, let’s get warm before we catch a cold.”
“That’s a myth,” Layla says.
“Seriously?” I ask.
“Apparently.”
“Are you a MythBuster now, sunshine?”
Bella’s brows rise. “Sunshine?”
Layla rolls her eyes, pointing an incredulous finger at her best friend. “Don’t encourage him.”
“No encouragement needed,” I declare, grinning triumphantly.
“Interesting,” Bella murmurs under her breath before stepping forward and tickling Emmy, earning a cute chuckle from her. “Bye, sweet girl, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Figured I’d come over and keep her and Layla company during the game.”
“We have a game tomorrow?” I ask, my head swinging to Grayson.
“Yeah, preseason game. It’s all right, figured it slipped your mind. I was going to call you tomorrow morning.”
That’s the first time in my entire NHL career that I have ever forgotten about a game.
Scratch my career, I’ve never forgotten a game, scrabble or practice otherwise. Ice hockey has always been my everything.
Grayson must see something on my face, must be able to tell the direction my thoughts are taking, because he says, “It’s okay, Ashford. It’s been a hectic two days.”
I’m nodding yet guilt still eats away at me, manifesting as an unwanted pressure against my chest.
How do people do this?
How do they manage such large facets of their lives? Just two days into having a child and I forgot about my job, the job I have slaved over for years and poured my entire soul into. Shaking my head, I decide to put a pin in my desolate thoughts and cut myself some slack.
These are not normal circumstances.
Forcing a smile, I relent, “You’re right. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Grayson and Bella wave their goodbyes, leaving a shivering Emmy in my arms and Layla looking at me quizzically. Before I can think much of it, I blurt, “Have you got plans tonight?”
Her brow quirks. “Trying to break our deal already?”
“Believe it or not, I’m not flirting with you.” I cover Emmy’s ears and whisper, “Do you want me to though?” I wink. “Say the word and I’ll come at you full force.”
“You haven’t come at me full force?”
“Oh baby, I’ve only scratched the surface with you.”
Her cheeks bloom a beautiful pink. I try my fucking hardest to not smile at it while committing the sight to memory.
She all but forces her eyes to roll as she wraps the towel tighter around herself. “What did you have in mind?”
My tongue darts out to lick my lips and I feel deep satisfaction as her eyes drop to my mouth, watching the move as if in a trance.
My voice is deep, rough as I drawl, “Why don’t I show you what I’ve come up with for her bath and bedtime routine?
Then I’ll make us some dinner after, and we can set some ground rules for what this will look like. ”
“Dinner?” she all but squeaks before clearing her throat. “That sounds perfectly reasonable.”
I can’t help but tease, “You all right, sunshine? Looks like you got a little drool.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Says the one who couldn’t stop staring at my lips.”
Her eyes flare. “I was not!” Storming past me, she pushes open the screen doors, turning to peer at me over her shoulder. “Well, are you going to shut your intolerable mouth long enough to come show me what you have in mind?”
“I’ll have to open my intolerable mouth for that.”
Her head drops back with a groan.
Chuckling, I make my way over. “Come on.”
Stepping to the side, she lets me inside. I barely glance at the furniture placed everywhere, choosing for it to be a problem for my future self, though I look back to make sure Layla doesn’t trip over anything. A coy smile dances along her lips.
“What?” I ask.
Her eyes snap up to mine, her head automatically shaking.
“No come on, spit it out.”
She shrugs. “It’s nothing. I just think it’s a good sign you’ve come up with a routine already.”
I take the stairs carefully, scared I’ll trip with Emmy in my arms. “The parenting books are very big on routine, especially during nighttime to prepare them for sleep.”
Walking down the hall, I stop before the second door on the left—Emmy’s room.
I take her right inside into the ensuite.
After turning on the faucet, checking the temperature with my hand, I set Emmy on the closed toilet lid and search through the bags of items we bought from Target, praying there’s some baby soap.
That was another thing I saw online, how sensitive their skin can be to products—
My thoughts halt as I notice in my peripheral that Layla isn’t moving.
She’s just standing in the doorway, staring at me. She usually stares at me—she thinks I don’t see it but I do. But this look is different. It’s more…perplexed, as if she’s trying to figure out a puzzle.
I can’t help but grin. “You know, you’re beginning to give me a complex. Keep looking at me like that and my head is going to grow.”
“I don’t think it can get any bigger,” she mutters, finally moving past me into the bathroom.
I snort out a laugh, just as I spot not only baby soap but some bath toys, too. “You’re a legend.”
“Huh?” Layla says, clinging to her towel.
I hold up the bath toys as explanation before frowning at her shivering body. “You can’t stay in those wet clothes. You’ll freeze to death.”
Her lips thin. “I didn’t bring spare clothes with me. I didn’t think I’d need to.”
Picking up Emmy again, I place my hand on Layla’s lower back. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“You can shower in my bathroom and I’ll give you something warm to wear.” I hold up my finger, ushering her to the master bedroom next door. “Don’t even try and fight me on this. You can’t sit in wet clothes all night.”
She stops at the threshold to my bedroom. It’s filled to the brim with boxes of clothes but I packed everything I’d need for the next week in a suitcase. I find it by the window overlooking the yard and quickly grab my favorite set. Gray tracksuit pants and a large oversized hoodie.
I hand them over to her. “You’ll be comfortable in these. Soap’s already in the shower, but I didn’t buy shampoo yet. Sorry.”
She shakes her head, reaching out to grab the clothes. “That’s okay. Thanks, Kieran,” she says softly.
Her arm breaks out in goosebumps as our fingers brush, her cold hand sending a spark of warmth through mine. She snatches it away, clutching the set to her chest.
And then something dawns on me.
I take in a shuddering breath, trying to calm my suddenly racing heart as I realize the woman I’ve been obsessed with for over a year is going to be naked in my bathroom.
Just a single door separating us.
Fuck my life.
Coming back to myself, I stroll out of the room and close the door before I do something stupid like ask to join her. “Call out if you need anything. I’ll be in Emmy’s room.”
I’ve thought about Layla nonstop since I met her at that charity event.
I’ve thought about the way her eyes spark when I tease her, the way she challenges me but doesn’t do the same to others. I’ve thought about her soft voice, her laughter, her smile, the way her nose scrunches if she doesn’t like what she hears.
I borderline harassed Bella into telling me about her best friend because I was a fiend and needed to know more about her. The small tidbits were never enough.
I want to know everything.
I want her.
Yet never in a million years, in a thousand fantasies, did I ever think she’d be naked, showering in my bathroom just down the hall from me. Because she is untouchable.
Layla Carson is sunshine personified.
She is the girl that men trip over their own two feet trying to impress.
She’s an angel at her core, and I’m nothing but the boy no one ever wanted.
Blowing out a breath to try and stabilize my barrage of thoughts, I help Emmy get into the bathtub, making giant mountains of bubbles and giving her the bath toys Layla and I bought.
“I’m screwed, Emmy,” I whisper. “Royally screwed.”
Emmy lifts her head, those soulful brown eyes piercing me to the spot.
How do I tell her that I’ve been slowly falling for her nanny? That her auntie Bella has been feeding me scraps and with every single one I collected I fell just a little further?
How the fuck do I stop having feelings for Layla? Would it make me a horrible parent if I didn’t?
Because I don’t think I can.