Chapter 9
NINE
Babysit
Noelle
There was a single knock at my door not even ten minutes after I ended the video call with my parents.
Mom and Dad were far too excited about having helped me but had no clue they had only made the situation more unbearable.
I had to leave my daughter alone with a grumpy asshole.
Faith wouldn’t get along with Jack, and I couldn’t trust him with her.
I walked toward the door with an attitude. There wasn’t a chance in a million years I’d let Jack Timber watch Faith. This wasn’t happening, and I’d stick to my guns.
I yanked the door open when Jack knocked a second time.
“Go home.” I glared and went to slam the door in his face.
Jack jammed his snowy boot in between the door and its frame.
Goddamn it!
I huffed. “Fuck off, Jack.”
“No, I’m not here for you. I made your parents a promise, and I intend to keep it, young lady,” Jack insisted as his bushy eyebrows came together and his hair fell in front of his eyes. “Plus, I love how squeamish you are and the way your nose scrunches up at me.”
Those deep dark chocolate hues swirled with bitterness and determination.
There was even a hint of teasing in his gaze from the wicked game he had created when he agreed to this arrangement.
Jack wanted to win. He was eager to beat me and take care of Faith, who probably would be the biggest challenge of his entire life, but an eight-year-old would be his end.
Faith was on my side. We’d team up against this stubborn man who didn’t know how to take no for an answer.
She’d have Jack running out of this house and never returning.
My daughter might be the cutest kid on the block, but she was tough to handle.
Any child was. Jack didn’t understand the responsibility of caring for a kid.
“Fine.” I exhaled a deep sigh, reached through the doorway, and grabbed Jack by the collar.
Jack let out a deep gasp when I hurled his ass inside and slammed the door behind him.
I trapped him like a chilled pest wanting to come out of the cold.
Frozen and bitter, with a red nose, wearing a plaid green and black shirt.
It was the same flannel Jack wore outside when he chopped wood, and I swore he must have dozens of those damn shirts.
“It’s about time you came to reason,” Jack said after I released him and he fixed his collar. “You’d better get going or you’re going to be late. I’ll take it from here.”
I held up a hand. “Not so fast.”
Jack was too close; I could smell his woodsy scent. His recreational activity of being a lumberjack meant he spent a great deal of time outdoors when he wasn’t creating tall skyscrapers for an actual job. Jack was a brilliant architect, I’d give him that, but he sucked at being a good neighbor.
I hated letting Jack into my home and wanted to throw his ass back out into the snow.
Instead, I told him to follow me. I’d give him a tour of the house.
I’d show him where everything was and how to take care of Faith, but I still didn’t think he’d last five minutes.
I had to be a responsible mother and place my daughter’s well-being first. She came before this cold war raging between us, threatening to explode into utter chaos.
Jack’s laser-sharp stare dug into my backside, and the daggers of heat nipped at my skin as he followed me through the house, but I paid no attention to him. I simply instructed him on what to do. He had no questions and remained silent, lurking, watching me and waiting.
“And here’s the kitchen...” I opened the fridge to reveal organized shelves and enough food to feed a freaking army.
“There are tons of leftovers that you can pop into the microwave—if you even know how to use one, since you have a maid who does everything for you. I’m sure an eight-year-old can teach you how to—”
Suddenly, Jack slammed the refrigerator door shut. His hand was on top of mine on the handle while a fiery current wrapped around my fingers and sparks flew straight down to my toes. His breath warmed my cheek, and I couldn’t help watching him lick his lower lip.
“Shut up, little Elle.” Jack groaned with irritation while he glared down at me. “Stop stressing over shit. I don’t need your damn help, and I never have. I’ve been in your house before.”
True. Jack had been inside my home one too many times while my dad was visiting. I didn’t care to count every occasion because I didn’t want him here. Those were all unfortunate events, never part of my plan, exactly as this one was.
Jack was way too close. I wanted him out. Gone. Blasted away by the flurrying snow, as bitter cold as him. But nothing was icy about Jack being this near to me. He was warm, solid, and electrifying.
“I know.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I was showing you how to take care of my daughter.”
The heat ate up the bitterness in his stare, and my gaze darted to his mouth. His lips were smooth like melting chocolate that I wanted to lick and have a taste.
“I’ll manage,” Jack grumbled as he pushed away from me. “I know how to take care of a damn kid.”
Jack’s fast movement snapped me back into reality. The mesmerizing haze I had been swept up in was gone, and the blizzard in my brain had cleared into a dense fog.
Did I want to kiss Jack?
Fuck no!
“Do you?” I questioned with a shake of my head. “Because you have never taken care of a child before.”
“I’m old. Not dead. We’ll be fine.” Jack grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me toward the front door. “Now. Leave.”
“Get your—” I tried to jerk out of Jack’s grasp, but Faith came down the stairs.
She asked me, “Are you going to work, Mommy?”
I beamed. “Why, yes, sweetheart. Mr. Timber is going to watch you.”
My hand patted Jack’s hand until the motion was far too excessive, and Faith kept watching me with interest. I heaved a nervous laugh and pushed his hand off me so I could lean down to give her a peck on the cheek.
“If you need anything at all, Mommy’s number is on the fridge, okay?” I whispered instructions in her ear.
“Okay.” Faith smiled as she pinched my cheeks together and rubbed her nose against mine.
Faith’s Eskimo kiss melted my heart every damn time.
I kissed the tip of her nose and backed up to get my jacket.
I double-checked to ensure I had my cell phone and keys in my purse before I yanked on the door handle.
A chilly breeze greeted me, and I slipped on my high heels.
I loathed wearing these darn shoes in the wintertime, but I needed to dress the part.
Every independent woman does in the business world.
I stepped outside. The icy ground crunched under my muddy wet heels from the melted path of deicer I had sprinkled the day before. I poked my head back inside the door.
“Behave for Mr. Timber and remember to—” But the door closed in my face.
Damn you, Jack Timber.