Chapter 3 #2
“You head to checkout. I’ll grab someone to load the crib.
” I walk away to find a store employee and make a mental note to call Lennon, my best friend back home, as soon as possible to fill her in on my life change.
Then I head to the aisle with the teething gel because the moment we’ll need it will be the time we don’t have it.
We.
As in, Henley and I are a team now when it comes to taking care of this baby girl.
Shaking off that thought, I focus on the task at hand.
You’re just helping this man, Elodie. He’s paying you, so it’s a job, just like you wanted. It’s just not the one that you’d thought you’d land. But the money will help you pay down your debt just like you wanted and buy you time to come up with a plan.
That’s the thing about plans, though—they rarely go the way we want them to. And I’ve got firsthand experience with that.
***
“There you go. Keep your hand over her forehead so the water doesn’t get in her eyes. The soap is supposed to be tear-free, but you still want to be kind to her about that.”
Henley is focusing so hard on bathing his daughter that he looks like he might pass out from the stress, and I’ve been fighting back my grin the entire time.
“You’re doing great.” Reaching for his forearm, I give it a squeeze, but boy, was that a mistake.
His skin is warm, dark from working in the sun, and covered in a dusting of dark hair. But that’s not the part that startles me—it’s the way he tenses under my touch, the way the veins pop out under his skin that makes my breath hitch as I hear him do the same.
God, why do forearms have to be so sexy?
Clearing his throat, he turns away from me as I release him. “Thanks. It’s not as terrifying as I thought it would be.”
“That’s the beauty of using this little tub over the kitchen sink. You don’t break your back bending over the bathtub.”
“Yeah, thanks for that tip.” He cleans the little rolls under Remy’s chin for the third time, being thorough since I warned him it’s a common place for babies’ skin to get irritated. At least he’s listening. “Anything else?”
“Nope. I think she’s good. You can take her out now.”
He reaches for the towel I picked out at the store earlier and holds it open. “Uh… Could you hand her to me?”
“Sure.” I carefully pick up the slippery little girl from her tub and place her in Henley’s waiting arms.
He wraps the towel around her and holds her to his chest, far more comfortably than he did earlier.
I cautiously corrected him on his baby-holding technique once we got home, and now he looks much more at ease holding his daughter.
“I hate to ask you, but can you help me dress her, please? It took me almost thirty minutes to figure out the outfit she had on earlier.”
A chuckle leaves my lips, but I nod and follow him down the hall to his room. For now, he’s going to continue to use his room as his “Remy Headquarters”, as he called it.
“Those outfits with a million snaps should be banned, if you ask me.”
He places Remy on his bed, drying her off a bit more as I hand him a diaper. “Is there a petition? Because I’ll definitely add my name.”
I rifle through the clean clothes I took out of the dryer earlier, locating a pajama outfit that has a zipper. “If I find one, you’ll be the first person I tell.” Nodding, he puts a fresh diaper under Remy’s butt and then quickly fastens it in place.
“Hey, you did that pretty fast!”
“Well, she shit right on my chest earlier today, so I learned that speed is a necessary skill when it comes to diaper changing. Who knew projectile shit was a thing?”
My laugh bursts out before I can stop it, clutching my stomach. “Oh my God!”
“Glad you find it amusing.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, wiping away the tears from under my eyes. “But you have to admit that it’s pretty funny.”
The corner of his mouth lifts, a quirk of his lips that is the closest thing to a smile the man has shown me all day.
God, I only met him today, but it feels like it’s been a week after everything that’s happened.
But if there’s anything I’ve learned about Henley in that time, it’s this: the man is way in over his head here, so all I can do is try to give him the confidence he needs to know he can handle being a father to his daughter, especially after I leave.
Christmas is just a little over four months away. It was the deadline I gave myself to figure out my next moves, and the longer I stand here and stare at one of the sexiest men I’ve ever met, the more I have to remind myself of that fact.
“Elodie?” His voice breaks through my mental spiral.
“Yeah?”
“She’s dressed.”
My eyes move down to Remy happily kicking her feet and smiling up at Henley. “She is. You did it!”
His lips quirk up again. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Those words do something funny to my chest, making my heart twist in a way I haven’t ever felt—like I’m needed, like I have a purpose, like I’m being seen for what I have to offer for the first time by someone other than my family.
Too bad it’s not in the way I’m craving.
Remy’s fussiness breaks through the silence, the happy girl suddenly irritated with the world. I glance down at my watch. “She’s probably hungry.”
Henley lifts her from the bed and then hands her to me. “Do you mind feeding her for me, please? I’m in desperate need of a shower and then I can order us some pizza for dinner, if that’s okay with you?”
The idea of this man wet and naked in the shower enters my mind just as quickly as I push it back out. “Sounds great.”
He reaches up and squeezes my shoulder. “Thanks, El. I won’t be long.”
El.
God, he’s given me a damn nickname already.
After I prepare a bottle and find a comfortable spot on the couch, I place the feeding pillow around my waist and press the button on my phone to call my best friend, Lennon, who still lives back in Garnet Valley.
“Well, good to know you’re alive,” she says in greeting.
“Sorry I didn’t call sooner, but after I got here yesterday, I crashed early so I wouldn’t look like a total zombie for my interview this morning.”
“And? How did the interview go?”
“I got a job.”
“Heck yes!” she squeals. Somewhere down the hall, I hear a shower starting. “So what do they have you doing at the lodge? Waiting tables like you wanted so you can rake in the tips?”
“Uh, well… Not exactly.”
Lennon clears her throat. “What do you mean?”
My eyes drift down to Remy in my arms, her big eyes blinking up at me. “I sort of became the owner’s nanny instead.”
Dead silence.
“Lennon? Are you still there?”
“A nanny? You’re…you’re a nanny?”
“I know it sounds crazy but—”
“I thought this was only supposed to be for a few months?”
“It is. I told Henley that—”
“Henley?”
“Yeah, he’s my boss and he was desperate, Lennon. I swear, I couldn’t handle watching him beg for my help.” I spend the next several minutes filling my friend in on everything that has transpired today.
“So you’re going to live with him and take care of his daughter, but you still plan on leaving Blossom Peak?”
“Exactly. Honestly, it’s perfect. More money, I won’t have to worry about rent, and it will help me pay down my debt sooner and save up for my next move. Plus, you know I love babies.”
Living in L.A. isn’t cheap, especially when you’re trying to juggle bartending hours and writing with multiple roommates in the house, so credit cards became my best friend. Well, now they’re my worst enemy, and something I want to get rid of faster than a zit that pops up out of nowhere.
“Yeah, I know. I’m just worried…”
“About what?”
“Well, what does your boss look like? You know those stories where the nanny falls for the boss are popular for a reason.”
My brain filters back through every mental snapshot I’ve taken of Henley today, flipping through the rolodex of how I’ve organized every photo—his smirk, his ass encased in denim, and his forearms.
Yup. Those forearms are a problem.
“He’s…uh…” I hear the water shut off, making my heart rate instantly spike. “Hey, Lennon?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve gotta go.”
“This conversation isn’t over, Elodie. In fact, maybe I need to make a trip down to Blossom Peak to make sure you’re not in over your head here. I mean, you just agreed to move in with a man you’ve barely met, and I know you go silly for a sinful-looking man, especially if he wears flannels...”
I’m listening to her, I am. But before I can reply, Henley comes walking down the hall with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, droplets of water cascading over the mountains of muscles on his chest and abs.
Screw a flannel when he looks like that underneath.
“Dear God,” I pant breathlessly, but thankfully, Henley doesn’t seem to notice.
“Sorry. I just realized all of my clean clothes are still in the laundry room,” he explains, completely oblivious to how he’s practically rendered me speechless.
“Uh huh…”
“Elodie!” Lennon shouts through the phone.
I fight like hell to divert my gaze from the walking lumbersnack before me, failing miserably until Remy decides to burp loudly against me, saving me from further humiliation.
“I’ll call you later, Lennon,” I say into the phone.
“This isn’t over, Elodie!” she yells before I end the call and toss my phone to the couch, hoisting Remy up to my shoulder, patting her back in an attempt to get another burp from her tiny body.
Triumphantly, she lets out a rumble that stops Henley in his tracks as he heads back to his room. “Was that her?”
“Sure was,” I say, smiling at Remy, her face right next to mine.
Henley chuckles. “Damn. That was actually impressive. Maybe she really is my kid.”
I glance between the two of them. “I don’t think there is any doubt about that. I mean, have you compared your ears and hers?”
That tilt of his lips shows itself again. “Yeah, that’s what I said, but everyone’s insistent that I get a paternity test.”
Debating if now’s the time to pry, I cautiously ask, “What happened with her mom?”
Henley lets out a sigh, running a hand through his wet hair as the other one continues to secure the towel around his waist.
Just look into his eyes, Elodie. That’s right. Above the chest. Do not look down. I repeat, do not look down.
“It was a…short-term thing. I didn’t even know she was pregnant, but it’s partly my fault.
She tried calling me months ago, but I didn’t answer, thinking she was a stage five clinger.
” He casts his gaze to the side of the room.
“Anyway, she never wanted kids but thought she might feel differently after Remy was born. Turns out, she didn’t. ”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. This is for the best, especially for Remy.”
“What do you mean?”
The brief glimpse of vulnerability this man just displayed vanishes right before my eyes—as if someone flipped a switch.
“It’s not important.” Holding up his clothes, he gestures toward his room. “I’ll be right back. Pizza is already on its way. I hope you like anchovies.”
My stomach turns as my lips follow suit. “Uh…”
That smirk makes an appearance again, which makes me think it’s not so rare after all. “I’m just kidding. I hope you like cheese and pepperoni. I’m sort of a child when it comes to pizza toppings.”
“Cheese and pepperoni are great,” I say as my pulse races as fast as a hummingbird’s wings.
With a nod, he retreats to his room and I let out the breath I was holding. My phone buzzes next to me on the couch.
Lennon: You’d better send me a picture of your boss, stat. Otherwise, I’m going to assume that he’s hot, which means you’re in more trouble than I thought, and I might have to rescue you and drag you back home sooner rather than later.
Sighing, I steady Remy in my arms while I text her back.
Me: Fine. He’s attractive, but I have it under control. And I need this time, Lennon. Please. I told you, I’m making the decision by Christmas, okay?
Lennon: Fine. But I still want a picture.
“Come here, little one.” Henley appears in front of me, reaching out to take his daughter from my arms, holding her to his chest now which is fully covered—thank God—smiling down at her.
I stand from the couch, holding my phone out to snap a picture of them.
“What are you doing?” Henley asks as I glance at the picture on my screen while my ovaries practically melt inside of me.
“Taking your picture.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re going to want these memories one day. Remy is going to grow faster than you can possibly imagine.”
His eyes move to his daughter again. “I’m not so sure. Today has been a year long.”
Chuckling, I say, “My mom used to always say that the days are long, but the years are short.”
He nods, processing my words. “Never heard that.”
“Really? Your mom never said anything like that?”
Henley’s brows draw together, pain washing over his face, but the doorbell rings, snapping him out of it. Clearing his throat, he says, “That would be the pizza. My wallet is on the counter. Would you mind grabbing it for me?”
“Oh. Uh, sure.”
After we eat, I stifle a yawn as I glance at my watch. “I’d better be going.”
Henley reaches for Remy, who’s been sitting in my lap for the past fifteen minutes.
He hasn’t put together any of her furniture yet, like the high chair, so we passed her back and forth while we ate.
“All right. I promise, I’ll have the guest room ready for you tomorrow, and at least the high chair built. ”
“It’s okay. No rush.”
Henley stands as I do. “There is a rush. The sooner I get that room situated, the sooner you can be here for Remy.”
Nodding, I say, “Well, I wish you luck tonight.” Remy rests her head on Henley’s chest as she looks at me, and I fight the urge to take a picture of them again. “But I have a feeling she’s going to sleep a bit better for you this time.”
“Why?”
“She’s exhausted from screaming all night last night.” Shrugging, I head for the front door, grabbing my purse from the couch on the way.
“I’ll text you in the morning once I get back from the clinic,” he says, referring to his appointment for his paternity test.
“Sounds good.”
“Thank you again, Elodie.”
Turning to face him, I stare up into his dark, brown eyes. “You’re welcome. Just don’t get too used to me being around, remember?”
“Too late,” he jokes, as evident by the tilt in his lips—that same tilt that’s been taunting me on and off all day.
“Have a good night.” With a wave and backwards glance, I hop in my car, noticing that Henley watched me leave until I was safely inside. And as I head back to my cabin, prepared to pass out the second I arrive, I play back the events of today and beg for something—anything—to spark inspiration.
But all I can hear in the pit of despair deep in my mind is silence.
And that fear that I’ll never write another song again comes back with a vengeance.