Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Walker
Ican’t do this right now. I have a million things on my mind. I’m about to interview a nanny. A complete stranger I’m supposed to trust to take care of my daughter. I know my words came out harsh and strong.
But I’m hanging on by a thread, trying to keep my feelings for Jessie buried down deep, where they belong. I can’t have her looking at me like that.
I close the door behind me and find her standing by the window in my family room, head down. She isn’t moving, like she’s caught in thought. Then I see a tear slip down her cheek, and I don’t think I’ve hated myself more than I do in this moment.
Eli seems happy enough, so I put her down in the swing and fasten her in. I walk to where Jessie is and stand right behind her. I’m close. Too close. But I’m not worried about anything but her.
“Jessie,” I whisper.
She straightens her back and wipes at her cheek.
“I’m sorry.”
She spins around, peering up at me. I see the cracks in the tough facade she has built over the years. She wasn’t always like this with me. Once upon a time, I was on the receiving end of her smiles and affection. It was always the highlight of my day.
Now, I’m the reason for her tears. Though I decided long ago we could never be together, it still kills me to know I’ve caused her pain.
“I’m fine,” she replies bitterly.
I sigh heavily, wishing I could reach out and touch her. Offer some kind of comfort. But I know if I do that, I’ll want more. And I know she isn’t fine. I know her.
“I didn’t mean to come off so … rude,” I admit, though I know I’m not saying the right things.
Nothing but the truth is going to ease her pain, and I can’t tell her the truth.
A harsh laugh escapes her. “I get it now. Just the idea of us makes you sick. Message received.”
I tilt my head as I look at her quizzically. She thinks I’m pushing her away because I’m not attracted to her. I slam my hands against the window above her head. Fuck, I hate that I’m in this position.
“Let me make one thing clear,” I growl, our lips a breath away from each other. “If I could have you, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second. You’re not just the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen; you’re the kind of woman who ruins every other woman for me.”
I hear her sharp intake of breath.
“Why can’t you have me?” she asks softly.
My forehead falls to hers, and I shake it back and forth. “I can’t go there. It’s not my place to tell. Just know … I’ve thought about what it would be like to finally be able to claim you as mine. And I’ll think about it until the day I die.”
Eli begins to cry, giving me the much-needed excuse to pull away from her before I do something I regret. I stop the swing and unbuckle her. She begins to soothe herself a little as soon as I pick her up.
I wonder if that possibly means she trusts me a bit. Maybe she finds comfort in me. Is that all it takes to gain the trust of a baby—twenty-four hours?
I feel Jessie’s eyes on me. I’m afraid to meet her stare, but I gaze her way despite my uncertainty. Her arms are crossed as she leans against the window, watching me bounce Eli. She doesn’t say anything. I don’t say anything.
It feels like she’s making a decision in her mind right now. I shouldn’t have admitted that to her. It just makes things more complicated. But I couldn’t let her think I wasn’t interested. Fuck, I am so far beyond interested. I’m desperate.
Suddenly, a knock on the door brings me back to what my priority at the moment needs to be.
Jessie’s eyes open wide. “Is that the nanny?” she asks.
I cough to clear my throat. “Yes.”
“Here.” She rushes over to me. “Give me Eli. I’ll get her settled so you can start.”
A fifty-year-old woman is waiting at the door for me. She’s divorced, and her kids are grown up and out of the house. The interview goes by quickly, Jessie helping me with the questions.
When she leaves, I order us dinner, and we talk about what we thought as we eat. Eli is asleep in her swing.
“What did you think?” I ask as I swirl pasta on my fork.
She shrugs her shoulders. “I actually really liked her. She was nice and seemed like a very trustworthy person.”
I nod my head. “The vetting process at the agency is extremely thorough. Her background is clean. What do you think about her nannying style?”
“She doesn’t believe in letting the baby cry or self-soothe. I like that. I think she’ll tend to Eli’s needs well.”
“I do too.” I pause. “Do you think it’s bad that I want to hire the first nanny I interview? Should I do more interviews?”
“I don’t think you need to interview for the sake of interviewing. If it’s a top-tier nanny agency, I think you’re just looking for an agreement on how to nurture the baby. If you think you’ve found that, why not hire her?”
“That’s true. I do like her. I felt comfortable around her. But I’ll sleep on it.”
I’m relieved that she isn’t acting different toward me after what I confessed to her earlier. Maybe we can just let it go and pretend I never said anything. If she knows how I feel, how much I want her, things could get complicated.
Next thing I know, Eli wakes from her swing with a roaring scream. I jump off the couch and swoop her up. After I warm a bottle, which she refuses, I try to give her a pacifier.
“Maybe change her,” Jessie offers from the couch.
I’m sweating at this point as panic takes up residence inside of me. I want to scream at Jessie, but I decide to bring Eli into my bedroom and change her. She wails even harder during the process and is no closer to being happier by the end. I pick her up and bring her back into the family room.
“Great advice, Einstein,” I bark at her. “Now she’s more upset.”
Was that harsh? Yes. Is it hard to say the right thing when there’s a screaming baby in your ear? Absolutely.
I try to bounce her up and down, but nothing works. I thought I’d started to figure it out. Either feed her, change her, or get her to sleep with a pacifier. This isn’t part of the rotation. I feel out of control and completely useless.
Jessie stands up and extends her arms. “Here. Let me try.”
I offer Eli to her, disappointed that I wasn’t able to calm her down. I thought I might be capable of doing this single-dad thing on my own. Now, I’m not so sure.
Jessie makes her rounds, trying the same things that I did, but to no avail. She glances at her watch.
“You’ve got somewhere to be?” I quip, the crying beginning to get to me.
“I think this is the witching hour. Eva was telling me about it at breakfast the other day.”
Now she’s just talking crazy. Has the crying already made her go mad?
I extend my arms. “I think I should take Eli back. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I don’t want any voodoo magic around my child.”
She stops bouncing Eli up and down. She stares at me in disbelief for a fraction of a second.
Then her head falls back as she laughs boisterously.
I cross my arms across my chest, not amused at all.
I don’t see how what I said was in any way humorous.
Not to mention that my baby is still inconsolable, and neither of us can figure out what’s wrong.
“Walker,” she says in between her fits of laughter, “witching hour is a phrase they use to describe a specific time period where a baby cries and is difficult to console.”
I feel heat spread across my face, realizing my assumption might have been a little extreme. She continues to laugh at my expense, and the sheer volume of it distracts Eli enough to calm her down.
She realizes it at the same time, looking down at my daughter with affection. “Is that what calms you down? Me laughing at your silly daddy?”
“Maybe it was your obnoxious laugh that scared her silent,” I quip, not liking her and my daughter teaming up against me.
Jessie seems amused. “Why don’t you go hide your candles? You wouldn’t want me having access to those. I might break out in a ritual.”
“Joke’s on you. I don’t own candles,” I reply, then take Eli out of her arms. “Finish your dinner.”
She shrugs her shoulders and falls down to the couch and grabs her plate.
An hour later, Eli is bathed, changed, fed, and in her bassinet in my bedroom. I walk out of my bedroom and literally fall face down on the couch as I let out a loud groan.
Jessie is sitting at the edge of the large sectional, her legs resting on the coffee table.
“How am I even functioning?” I sigh into the couch cushion.
She pats my head like I’m a damn child. “You’ll get used to it. According to Eva, your body gets used to lack of sleep eventually. I would recommend not downing coffee and energy drinks.”
I lift my head. Her bare legs are inches from me, tanned and toned. She must have changed into pajamas while I was getting Eli down. I shake my head and slam it back down on the cushion.
“Fuck my life,” I growl to myself.
On top of being sleep-deprived, I’ve got Jessie’s legs taunting me in my own home—reminding me what I want, but can’t have.
“Oh, get over it, you big baby. Everyone goes through this with newborns.”
I growl and roll over to my side. “Want to watch a movie or something?”
“Sure. FYI … I’m sleeping on the couch this time. You made it through last night. You can figure it out tonight.”
I don’t fight her on that. It’s definitely for the best. I don’t need any more temptation. She hasn’t brought up what I said earlier, making me wonder if what I was admitting even sank in.