Chapter 5 #3
We both stand as Remy stirs in the stroller.
When she wakes up, she’s going to want to eat and probably need a diaper change, so I need to find somewhere I can complete those tasks.
I saw a sandwich shop down the street that had lunch specials, so I’ll probably go there to stretch my dollar further, my daunting credit card balance reminding me of how necessary keeping this job is.
“I really do hope to see you at movie night,” Laney adds as we move for the door.
“Honestly, I can’t wait. It’s been a long time since I’ve actually done something like that. For the past three years, all my life has been about is work and trying to get my big break.”
“I understand that more than you know.” With a wave, she heads across the street, and I make my way toward the sandwich shop.
I wasn’t lying when I said that I’ve been working non-stop, and maybe that’s the problem. I turned a creative outlet into a job.
The question that scares me though is: is it possible to have both? A job that requires creativity at all hours of the day?
Have I even had enough life experience to write a song that’s worthy of being heard by the masses?
Or are my parents right, and I need to think logically for once?
But like Laney said, I have some time to figure it out. I just hope I don’t get myself into a bigger mess in the process.
***
“Uh, it looks like I interrupted something.”
The sound of my voice makes Henley collapse into a heap of bare skin and muscles on the living room floor, where it looked like he was doing some sort of martial arts when I walked in.
“Shit,” he mutters, his arm slung over his face, sweat dripping down his torso.
And what a torso it is.
Holy mother of chest and abs, this sight will never get old.
This isn’t the first time I’ve seen the man without his shirt. In fact, it’s actually the third, but who’s counting?
However, this is the first time I’ve seen him glistening with sweat and in a pair of athletic shorts that do very little to hide the bulge between his legs.
God, Elodie. Stop staring.
Clearing my throat, I bend down to take Remy from her car seat, pulling her to my chest as I stand tall again, only to find Henley standing up now as well.
Eyes on his face, Elodie.
“Were you just doing karate when I walked in?”
Henley huffs out a laugh, his smile effortless until his lips fall almost instantly, as if he realized he was actually smiling and had to put a stop to it. “It was supposed to be yoga, but I’m not very good yet.”
My chest starts to tighten. “You were doing yoga? That’s not what I expected from a man like you.”
He arches an eyebrow. “A man like me?”
Heat crawls up my neck. “I just meant…” My eyes skim over his broad shoulders before I can stop myself. “You look more like a weights-and-bench-press guy. That’s all.”
He pushes a hand through his sweat-soaked hair as his eyes land on Remy.
“Yeah, well…I blame Laney. She does yoga and wine events at her dad’s winery and Fletcher dragged me to one without telling me what it was.
Despite nearly dying that night, I felt more challenged by that workout than I had been in a long time, so now I’ve been trying to incorporate it into my routine. ”
He reaches for his daughter and she lunges for him as he presses a kiss to the top of her head—and I’m pretty sure my ovaries just wept. “How did she do today?” Glancing at the clock, he continues, “I thought you’d be home sooner.”
“She did great,” I reply, heading toward the kitchen for a glass of water, parched from the walking I did today. “We walked around The Village, and visited Dilynne and Laney, actually.”
He stops dead in his tracks on his way to follow me into the kitchen. When I turn around to look at him, his eyes are focused on my ass.
Looks like Dilynne was right about his visual appreciation of my body.
You shouldn’t care, Elodie, remember? He’s your boss.
“You went and saw my sister?”
“Yeah. I mean, you kind of told me to and I wanted to smooth things over from yesterday. Laney happened to be there at that time too, so I got to meet her. She seems amazing and really sweet.”
“Yeah, she’s a lot happier now that she’s not busy hating Fletcher’s guts.”
“Fletcher Adams,” I say, followed by a whistle. “What a lucky girl.”
Henley’s jaw ticks. “You have a thing for Fletcher?”
I fill up my glass at the fridge, gauging his reaction before I speak. I shouldn’t be enjoying the way his body looks even more tense than when I found him earlier, or how adorable he looks shirtless while holding his daughter, but I am.
“Just appreciating an objectively good-looking man, Henley. Nothing to get worked up about.”
“I’m not getting worked up. I just…” His voice is tight. “I don’t need my nanny swooning over my friends.”
I pause mid-pour and turn to face him. “Excuse me?”
He shrugs. “Fletcher is engaged, and I don’t need any more drama in my life.”
Like a match has been lit, anger races through me. “You actually think I’m here to…what? Hook up with your friends instead of doing the job you hired me for? I actually met Fletcher’s fiancée today. She was lovely and we made plans to hang out soon.”
His face instantly relaxes and then regret takes over the lines around his eyes. “Elodie…”
I hold my hand up to stop him. “I know we don’t know each other very well, a detail that is becoming glaringly obvious as each day passes, but I’m not a homewrecker, and definitely didn’t come here to find a man, okay? So I’d appreciate being given the benefit of the doubt.”
“Fuck, Elodie,” he mutters, moving closer to me, but I shake my head.
“Your daughter and I had an amazing day, by the way. She napped, we walked around, and I took her to the park and pushed her on the swing in my lap, which she loved. I took pictures and wanted to show you, but right now? I think I just need to be alone.”
“Elodie,” he starts once more, but I walk around him and down the hall to my room, closing myself inside, hands shaking.
How dare he accuse me of being here under the wrong intentions.
How dare he question who I am.
Even though we don’t know each other well, I need him to trust me, given that I’m caring for his daughter.
But maybe Dilynne is right. Maybe Henley has a lot of shit to work through and the best thing for me to do is keep the distance between us, especially because I won’t be here for long.
We don’t need to be friends for me to do my job.
And honestly, it would make everything I’m feeling easier to deal with if we weren’t.
***
The sleepy haze I’m in dissipates as the sound of Remy’s cries cut through the fog.
When my eyes pop open, the sound is much more distinct.
For one split second, I debate staying in here and letting Henley handle it, but when I hear his pleas for her to go to sleep and stop crying, I launch from my bed and tiptoe down the hall to find him pacing in the living room, trying to soothe her.
“Please baby girl,” he whispers. “I don’t know what else to do.”
“Well, pleading with her isn’t going to make her stop anytime soon.”
His head twists in my direction. “Shit, I’m sorry, Elodie. She woke up and I fed her, changed her, but now she won’t stop crying. I—I don’t know what the hell she wants.”
A tiny bit of pity builds in my chest, even though it shouldn’t after what he alluded to earlier this evening.
But with a glance at the clock, I realize it’s actually early in the morning, which means this is a new day and everyone deserves a fresh start, even asshole men that think I’m here to hit on their friends.
Sighing, I close the space between us and reach for the baby. “Let me take her.”
He turns away from me, bouncing her further. “No, you go back to sleep. I can handle this.”
“I’m already awake, Henley. Will you just let me see if I can get her to at least calm down?”
Eyeing me wearily, it doesn’t take him long to relent as he hands Remy over to me. “What’s going on, baby bear?” I brush her hair back across her head, inhaling her sweet baby scent as I press my cheek against hers. “What’s got you so upset?” Her cries become quieter, but she’s still angry.
Henley groans as he pushes both of his hands through his hair, drawing the strands to stick straight up. I don’t have the energy to tell him he looks like a mad scientist right now, especially when I can see the despair on his face. “I just don’t know what she wants.”
“Sometimes babies just need to cry, or it could be gas. Have you tried bicycle kicks with her?”
His blank stare shouldn’t be funny, but it is. “You act like I should know what that is.”
I take a seat on the couch, laying Remy down on the cushion in front of me.
Her cries grow louder until I grab both of her legs and begin to move them up toward her stomach and back down, alternating them in the same motion as if she were riding a bike.
“Moving her around like this can get the gas to move.” Henley studies what I’m doing with laser focus. “Wanna try?”
Nodding, he switches places with me and repeats the same motion I was just performing. Within a few seconds, Remy lets out a fart that startles us both. He peers up at me with shock, and then we both burst into laughter.
“Holy shit!” Henley says through a laugh. “I think most grown men couldn’t compete with that.”
Holding my stomach, I fight to contain my giggles. “See? She’s just gassy. Keep moving her legs around.” Henley repeats the motion until Remy lets out a few more farts that seem to have alleviated some of her discomfort. But when he lifts her from the couch, she burps and spits up all over him.
“Shit.”
“Aw, poor thing. Her stomach is clearly upset. Did you burp her after she ate?”
“I tried to,” he says as he carefully stands from the couch and heads to the laundry room, removing his soiled shirt. “But she didn’t let one out.”
And once again, this man is standing in front of me, shirtless.
Is this God’s way of testing the lines of temptation? What kind of karmic retribution am I suffering through right now?
He sniffs himself dramatically. “Shit. I need another shower. Do you mind…”
“Not at all. Go ahead, we’re good.”
Henley heads for his room and I take Remy into mine to change her outfit since she spit up on herself as well. Once she’s in a clean pajama outfit, I head back out to the living room, but she starts crying again.
“What’s wrong now?” Henley’s voice startles me as I move gently around the room, trying to soothe her by bouncing her softly.
“She’s just fussy, Henley. That doesn’t mean something is wrong with her.”
He sighs, brushing a hand through his wet hair. “I’m sorry you’re up too. I wish I knew how to calm her down.”
“You’ll learn.”
He scoffs, taking a seat on the couch. “Not sure that’s true.
Having kids was never on my radar, and the past few days have only proven that maybe I was right in avoiding this responsibility.
It’s not like I had amazing parents to look up to as an example.
” As soon as the words leave his lips, I can see the recognition on his face that he said more than he wanted.
“Dilynne said you two didn’t have the best childhood,” I say cautiously. “What happened?”
His eyes dart to mine. “Nothing,” he says curtly in an attempt to shut down the conversation.
“Wow. Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
Remy’s cries still echo around us as I glare at him. “You know, I’m just trying to help, Henley. Dilynne wanted me to make sure you were okay…”
“My sister needs to mind her own business.” He stands from the couch and heads toward the kitchen for a drink.
I shake my head, trying a different motion as I walk around with Remy. “Guess I’ll be going to the movie night at the winery by myself,” I mutter.
Henley walks back into the living room. “What?”
“I said, I guess I’ll be going to the movie night at the winery by myself.”
His brows furrow. “The girls told you about that?”
“Yeah. They invited me actually, and I said I’d be going with or without you. I think you’ve made it abundantly clear that you have no interest in being friendly with me and think I’m just here to hit on your friends, so…”
His feet carry him across the room in slow motion until he’s standing right in front of me.
And before I can breathe, he’s lifting my chin up so our eyes meet, the callus of his fingers branding my skin.
“I’m sorry,” he says, the deep timbre of his voice coating me in a warmth that travels down all of my limbs.
“I tried apologizing to you earlier, but you ran off.”
“You accused me of something that I would never do.”
“I know. Deep down, I know that, Elodie. I just…” He blows out a breath as his face contorts. I can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. “I’m frustrated and tired, and I’m—I’m taking it out on you.”
My eyebrows lift. “Wow. That’s mighty big of you to admit.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “What can I say? I have my moments. But I mean it. I’m sorry. It’s not fair to you that you’re getting the brunt of it.” His thumb strokes my jaw and suddenly I forget how to breathe.
Our eyes remain locked, which is how I catch it when his dip down to my mouth for a split second. But as soon as he realizes what he did, he releases my chin and gives me his back, sighing out loud.
“Thank you,” I whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear me over Remy’s shuddered cries. All I get is a nod from him before he heads over to the couch and takes a seat, burying his head in his hands.
The only sound in the room now is Remy’s fussing, and without thinking, I try one tactic I haven’t yet.
I start to sing.
Henley’s head snaps up, both he and Remy suddenly fixed on me. I find my voice that I haven’t used in a while and close my eyes, letting the lyrics carry me as I softly sing “Breathe” by Faith Hill.
My mom is a huge country music fan, and all I remember growing up was listening to Faith Hill, Reba McEntire, and Shania Twain records while I helped her clean the house on the weekends.
When I open my eyes, I find Henley staring at me but Remy has finally laid her head on my shoulder. I begin to taper off, but she stirs again so I keep singing, moving around the room while swaying from side to side.
By the time I’ve finished the song, Remy is out cold on my chest. And when I glance back at Henley, I’m caught off guard by the sight of his massive frame slumped in the corner of the couch, also fast asleep.