2. Vivi
Vivi
“You can’t be serious?”
“Deadly. I don’t know what to do with him.”
“He’s a baby. You feed him, burp him, change him, put him to bed.”
“See! I didn’t know any of that.”
I laugh. “You so did.”
Shaking my head, I stare at the man I’ve lusted after since the moment I laid eyes on him. Strangely, the addition of a baby pressed against his hot body doesn’t detract from his appeal.
“Okay, fine.” He looks down at the baby held close to his chest, one big hand cradling the back of a tiny head, the other on an equally tiny, diaper-clad butt, proving he knows at least a little bit about babies. “I know the basics.”
“Then why do you need me to move in with you?” I’m not going to lie, his request sent a thrill through me but I quickly squash that nonsense.
“Because I can’t work, take care of him, and find out who his mother is without someone helping me.”
“Ah, right.” My fingers flex. “You want my skills.”
Easton’s gaze rakes me from head to toe and every hair on my body stands on end as though the look is a physical touch.
He’s had this effect on me from the moment we met, and while I tried—unsuccessfully—to ignore the way his looks send a jolt of electricity through me, I can admit our attraction seems to be more than sexual chemistry.
I like him.
He’s funny, and fun, and genuinely caring even when he’s rejected repeatedly.
“Please.” His gaze drills into mine. “I don’t know where he came from or why, but I can’t call the authorities. Not until I know why his mother thought leaving him here was the right thing. It can’t be random.”
“Maybe if we search the carseat and bag we’ll find a note or something,” I offer as I move past Easton as he rocks the baby.
It’s only a few steps to where we pulled everything inside his front door a few seconds ago. Right before the storm that chased us from the restaurant let rip.
I love a good storm. But not when there’s an unprotected baby out in it. In a race to beat the weather, Easton broke every speed limit between the restaurant on the south side of Love Beach and his house in the north.
Crouching, I search the carseat first, although I’m honestly not expecting to find anything. Easton would have seen it when he lifted the baby out.
I have to admit, I would never have predicted our date turning out like this. Not that I had any expectations or plans. I like to go with the flow. Although that has gotten me into difficult situations in the past.
My penchant for following leads is how I ended up in Love Beach.
The last time I got involved with a child was when my friend Laney reached out for help.
Help not too different from what Easton is asking for.
Finding nothing in the seat, I move on to the bag. It’s faded and tattered and not really a diaper bag at all, more of a small gym bag. The first thing I see when I unzip it is a can of formula and four bottles.
“At least he’s not breastfed,” I murmur, pushing them out of the way.
“What? He’s what? What did you find?” Easton crowds over the top of me where I’m crouched beside the baby’s things.
“Formula.”
“Oh.”
“Why don’t I take the bag to the kitchen and unload everything on the counter so you can see?”
“Okay,” he murmurs as he continues to rock the baby. “I think he’s asleep again.”
When we arrived, the baby was stirring for the same reason we rushed out of Easton’s Range Rover to the front door. Glancing through one of the windows flanking the door, I’m glad Easton isn’t afraid to break a few laws.
The spring storm is moving through the area with a ferocity the weatherman did not predict. “Lucky we got to him before that hit.”
Easton grunts, before saying in a deep growly voice, “Fuck. What the hell was she thinking?”
“Same thing everyone else who checked the weather forecast.”
“Huh?”
Looking at Easton, I see the edges of panic filling his eyes, creasing his brow. “Take a breath, E. He’s safe.”
“But—” He sucks in a breath, blows it out. “You’re right.”
I smile. “Let’s take everything into the kitchen. See what we can find in his bag, then maybe, if he stays asleep, I can whip us up something to eat.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For?”
“Ruining our date.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s ruined. Although it’s not what I expected when I agreed to go out with you.” I grin.
Easton’s eyes drop to the baby in his arms. “Not what I expected either.”
“I will say, this is the most unusual date I’ve ever been on. So, points for that.”
His lips lift in a reluctant smile. “As long as they’re points in my favor.”
“Of course.” Grabbing the bag and carseat, I push to my feet. “Now let’s see what we have and work out what to do.”
I don’t wait for his agreement. I head for the kitchen. This isn’t the first time I’ve been to Easton’s house. But it is the first time I’ve been here alone with him.
Except it isn’t just me and him now. We’ve got ourselves a third wheel.
Looking over my shoulder, I can’t help but smile at the man and baby behind me.
Easton is hot. Like scorch your eyeballs and incinerate your panties hot. Put a baby in his arms and— boom!
Ovary explosions.
The hotness is next level and I’m only human so I won’t kick myself for reacting to him. I’d have to be dead not to, and even then I think he’d resurrect me.
“I was serious before. Still serious now. No matter what you find in that bag.”
His words have my insides clenching. Anticipation and dread swirl in my belly. The last time I lived with a guy, things didn’t turn out so well. Then again, I won’t be sharing Easton’s bed no matter how much my body wants me to.
We’ll be roommates. Co-carers of the tiny little boy abandoned on his doorstep.
“Vivi?”
“I heard you.” I place the carseat on the floor out of the way and head for the island where I start removing items from the bag. “I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll pay you.”
I grunt. I don’t need money. Don’t want money. If I agree to help him with— shit . My gaze jumps to Easton. We need to find out the baby’s name.
Or give him one.
“You’re sure he can’t be yours?” I ask knowing full well the answer isn’t going to be different this time than it was the last time I asked.
“Why would I lie about not getting any? Don’t guys usually brag the opposite?”
“Wouldn’t know. Not a guy.” My hand hits the bottom of the bag. Except it doesn’t feel like the same material the sides are made of. Yanking the zipper opening wide, I peer inside. “I think there’s a folder of some kind lining the bottom.”
“Pull it out,” Easton growls in my ear as he leans over my shoulder.
“Give me room.” I nudge him with my elbow, careful not to hit the baby.
I don’t really need the space, but having Easton breathing down my neck is sending shivers down my spine. And as much as I’d like to explore the attraction between us, we’ve got other things to take care of.
A nameless, motherless baby trumps arousal every time no matter how long the desire has been simmering.
“What is it?”
“Jeez, Louise, give me a second.” I manage to get my fingernails under the edge of the plastic and lift. It takes a few good tugs, but I finally get it off the base and out of the bag. “Well, that’s interesting.”
“What? What did you find?”
“Someone didn’t want this falling out of the bag. It was taped to the bottom.” I hold up a thin plastic sleeve. “Looks like paperwork of some sort.”
“Open it!” We’re back to panicking Easton.
“E.” I wait for his eyes to meet mine. “Take a breath. I’m doing it. We aren’t going anywhere any time soon, we can take our time, make sure we don’t miss anything.”
“It might be instructions. A schedule.”
I raise an eyebrow. “A schedule?”
“You know, feeding times.”
“Ah. Well, I hate to break it to you, but he looks pretty new. I’d say a few weeks at most.”
“How can you tell?” He tips his chin down, his neck scrunching up as he angles to get a look at the baby’s face.
“His size. The fuzzy hair on his head.”
“Wait.” The horrified look on Easton’s face would be funny if he wasn’t holding a child neither of us knows anything about. “How do we know it’s a boy?”
“Huh.” I eye them. “Well, I assumed he’s a he because he’s dressed in blue.”
“Sexist.”
“Definitely.”
“Should we look?”
“And wake him or her up?”
“Right. Okay, so we’re going with boy. For now.” He lowers his mouth to whisper against the baby’s head. “Sorry if you’re a girl, sweetie.”
I choke back a laugh.
This man is showing a side of himself I haven’t seen before. Sure, I’ve seen him with other children, seen that he cares for them, but he’s usually the funny guy. The one who makes them giggle. The favorite uncle.
“Open the folder. Maybe it’s a birth certificate or letter.”
Easton’s words have me refocusing on the matter at hand. It’s actually a plastic envelope and once I get the flap open, I remove two sheets of paper from inside.
One is a legal document of some kind. The other a handwritten note that starts with?—
My gaze jumps up to Easton’s. “I didn’t think you had any nieces older than six.”
“I don’t.”
“Then why does this letter start with ‘Dear Uncle Easton’?”