13. Grayson
CHAPTER 13
Grayson
“It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Kyle,” I say, sticking my hand out. “I appreciate you meeting me and I’ll be in touch.”
She takes my hand and smiles. “Thank you.”
It’s a calculated move on my part. I want to touch her hand just to confirm that I feel zero attraction to this potential nanny.
And I’m right.
Nothing.
No spark.
I don’t get any vibe that she wants anything other than a job from me either, but even if she did, it wouldn’t matter. I’m confident I can treat her in a completely professional manner, even under the unusual circumstances of having her in my apartment when I’m sleeping.
The agency provided a background check on Kyle, but I’ll have my assistant Andrea run another one with a firm we use for hiring, just to be cautious. Evelyn seemed comfortable with Kyle, so I’m feeling a sense of relief.
We’re at the cafe that is on the same block as my apartment building and Evelyn is content in her stroller, getting lots of waves and smiles from patrons as they enter, mostly tourists seeking ice cream. She is, of course, frowning at them in return.
I’ve asked another nanny to meet me here in fifteen minutes. This is the one I’m considering for Caroline’s day shift.
The sooner I can find someone, the better.
I decide to text Caroline and tell her she can head home. It was selfish to ask her to stay, but I really want to talk to her about the fact that I want to fuck her six ways to Sunday. I can’t get her out of my head. I don’t know if I’m just wound too tight or if it’s the obvious fact that she’s gorgeous and sexy as hell, but I’m losing the battle with my self-control.
That’s half the reason I’m so eager to hire a new nanny. I can’t touch Caroline until I’ve hired her replacement because I can’t blur lines like that. Not with the person caring for my child. But I want to let her know where my head—and my dick—are at and see if she’s interested in me the same way I’m interested in her.
But she was clearly exhausted today, so I text her to let her know she should go home, feeling like an asshole that I didn’t do that in the first place.
My head hasn’t been on straight these last few weeks, but that’s still no excuse.
As I watch two teens act like scooping ice cream behind the counter is the hardest thing they’ve ever done in their entire lives—with lots of sighs and snail-like movements—I decide I want a cone for myself. I’ve been eating poorly since I’ve been in Honeysuckle Harbor. I need to cool it with the takeout and find some kind of fresh meal delivery service.
But that’s next week’s task.
Right now, I’m getting myself a waffle cone filled with strawberry ice cream. I can’t remember the last time I had an ice cream cone. Probably the last time I was back home in Honeysuckle Harbor last summer.
I’m standing in line when I hear, “Grayson? Hey, man, what’s up?”
I turn and find myself face to face with Ford Anderson, one of my high school classmates. “Hey, Ford, good to see you.”
We were friends and have bumped into each other over the years, but I haven’t been great at keeping up with people from my past. I’ve poured all my time and energy into my business.
“I heard you were back in town.” Ford glances at the stroller I’m resting my hands on. “With your daughter.”
“We don’t know for sure she’s mine,” I say, automatically. I’ve been saying that since the second I clapped eyes on her.
At first, because I was terrified she was, but now, I think it’s because I’m starting to get nervous that she’s not. I don’t know how I will react if the DNA proves she’s not.
“Uh, she looks just like you,” Ford says, giving Evelyn a grin. “Hi. What’s her name?”
“Evelyn. I’m actually interviewing a nanny in a few minutes,” I say. “Life is strange, right? How have you been?”
“Excellent. Harrison and I have a restaurant, Raw. I met the love of my life. Her name is Ivy. We live together with Harrison and his husband, Liam, because we’re all together.”
I remember Ford’s best friend Harrison. He was a great guy, easy-going and charming. “Together, together?” I ask, a little surprised, though I’m not sure why. How the hell would I know anything about Ford’s personal life or sexual preferences?
“Yep. Well, not me and Harrison.” Ford grins as he rocks back on his heels. “I’m here grabbing some pints of ice cream for after dinner tonight. Gotta keep the polycule happy. Harrison can be a real asshole when he doesn’t have his mint chocolate chip.”
“That’s great,” I say, sincerely. “I’m happy for you. For all of you.” I want to ask if the good people of Honeysuckle Harbor have been rocked to the core by a foursome openly living in town, but it seems like a rude question to ask. I don’t want to put him on the spot.
“Let’s get together sometime soon and catch up,” Ford says. “My sisters—do you remember Frannie and Fiona?—they’re hosting a bonfire next weekend. Got to get them in before fall arrives.”
In my hometown, “let’s get together” is real, not a fake suggestion like it is in my usual adult life back in New York. “I’d love to, but I’ll have to see.” I gesture to Evelyn. “Bedtime is seven-thirty.”
Ford nods. “Got it. I’ll text you though.” He gestures. “You’re up.”
“Oh, right.” I order my cone and turn when I hear the doorbell jingle. I think the woman walking in is who I’m meeting.
I now realize I’ve put myself in the awkward position of having ordered myself an ice cream cone and not offered to do the same for this girl. Plus, now I have to try to interview her while licking ice cream. Jesus. I’m really off my game. I blame it on sleep deprivation and lack of sex.
Grabbing an ice cream cup from the counter and a spoon, I tip the scoopers and dump my cone upside down in the bowl. Then I chuck the waffle cone in the trash. I feel pretty fucking sad I’m not going to be able to eat it, but hopefully I can refreeze the ice cream and salvage it.
I can’t drink alcohol these days, so I’m holding onto anything I can with both hands.
The daytime nanny candidate is glancing around, searching for me. I walk up and introduce myself. Her name is Jane, and she’s quiet, but she seems competent. I ask her if she wants anything, but she shakes her head rapidly. We sit down and I ask her some basic questions. It seems difficult for her to speak comfortably to me, which is concerning, but whenever she interacts with Evelyn, her face lights up.
She asks if she can hold her and when she takes Evelyn out of the stroller, my daughter goes with her readily. Evelyn touches the strands of long hair framing Jane’s face.
“She’s so sweet,” Jane says.
We’re sitting at a table and I ask, “Are you available long term? I don’t want different care providers in and out of Evelyn’s life more than is strictly necessary. She’s already had enough change and trauma.”
“Where’s her mother?” Jane asks. “If you don’t mind sharing?”
“She isn’t interested in being a part of her life,” I say, and for the first time, the enormity of what that means for Evelyn really smacks me in the face.
This innocent, adorable baby won’t have a mother in her life, through absolutely no fault of her own. That fucking sucks. I feel a surge of protectiveness and love.
It’s a good thing I’m sitting down because the force of it threatens to knock me over.
“Oh, no,” Jane says softly. “I’m so sorry.”
Jane has kind eyes and natural nurturing instincts, that’s obvious.
This is the kind of woman you want your child to have for a mother.
Not that I mean Jane specifically, I just mean I feel bad that I can’t give Evelyn that.
She’s stuck with just me.
I pick up my plastic spoon and shove a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth.
What am I thinking, considering casual sex with Caroline? I can’t risk another unplanned pregnancy. Evelyn isn’t even a year old and I’m a hapless single dad. I can’t let something like this happen again .
Caroline hasn’t answered my text, which is bothering me. I shove my chair back without warning and stand straight up. “I need to head home. I’ll be in touch.”
I take Evelyn from Jane.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” she says, looking mortified.
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I just remembered I have to…do something.”
Run away from my emotions.
That’s what I have to do.
I throw a one-hundred-dollar bill down on the table. “Here, get yourself some ice cream.”
Which weirdly sounds way ruder than I intend it to. I meant it as an apology for cutting the interview short, but there are suddenly tears in Jane’s eyes.
“This is a hundred dollars!” Jane sounds horrified.
“Oh, God,” I mumble under my breath.
I’m used to New York girls. They would take the money and run.
It’s a reminder that you can’t always buy your way out of every situation.
I sit back down with Evie in my lap. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m over my head,” I tell Jane in a low voice. “I do not have my shit together right now. I’m trying but suddenly having full custody of a baby is a lot. So if you want this position, this is what you’re getting—a demanding, short-tempered, busy as fuck businessman who until three weeks ago had never changed a diaper. Think about it over the weekend and if you’re still interested, text me on Sunday.” I stand back up. “Keep the money, please. I’m trying to apologize.”
She stares at me for a second, her cheeks stained pink, before shaking her head. “There’s nothing to apologize for. Have a good night, Mr. Ross.”
“Thanks, Jane, you too.”
I put Evelyn in the stroller, lock her strap, and exit the cafe. I’m halfway up the elevator when I realize I forgot my ice cream.
Fuck. Me.
When I enter my apartment, I stop short.
Caroline is asleep on the couch, curled up under a blanket.
She has her arm flung over her eyes in an attempt to block out the sun, which is cascading down on her face from the large front windows. Dust dances over her in the beams, reminding me I need a housekeeper.
So much to do.
And yet, I just stand here, gut clenched, watching Caroline sleep.
She’s beautiful.
Her lips are slightly parted and her hair is tumbling down over the pillow she’s lying on. Her hair was in a bun before, but I see her hair band is on her wrist now.
As if I wasn’t already feeling like a dick, I feel terrible all over again that I didn’t let Caroline go home. No wonder she didn’t answer my text. She fell asleep.
I need to feed Evelyn, give her a bath, and put her down for the night, but first I go over to the couch.
I don’t even know where Caroline lives, and taking her anywhere with Evelyn in tow would be a pain in the butt, anyway. Caroline doesn’t have a car. To be honest, I’m not even sure how she gets here every day, which again confirms my general dickishness.
She’s going to sleep here, in my bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch.
Evelyn seems content in her stroller still, which is a relief.
I squat down so I don’t scare Caroline and murmur, “Hi, I’m back.”
Caroline stirs, lowering her arm just slightly so that I can see her eyes. “Hey.” Her voice is raspy.
“Come on. Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“My bed.”
Her eyes widen, and she scrambles to sit up. “Grayson! Where is Evelyn?”
“In her stroller.”
“You can’t just…take me to bed.”
That makes me crack a grin. “I have to ask first? Is that it?”
“Yes!”
“Can I carry you to my bed?” I ask, even as I slip my arms under her back and her soft ass.
She feels incredible in my arms. It’s a wonderful, terrible temptation. I need to stay strong, but damn, it’s so fucking hard.
“No,” she says.
“Too bad. I’m taking you to bed so you can sleep. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”
“I can just go home,” she protests, even as she wraps her arms around my neck and leans against my chest.
“No, just stay. You’re exhausted, and you have to be back in the morning, anyway. I’m a terrible boss, Caroline.” I carry her across the living room to my bedroom.
“Is that an apology?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it kind of sucks.”
That makes me grin. “Yes. It does. I suck. Generally speaking.”
“You don’t look like you believe that.”
I set her softly down on the bed and pull back my comforter for her to slip beneath.
She does so readily, with a heartfelt sigh. “How was the nanny?”
“Good. As soon as I get clearance on Kyle’s background check, she can start working nights.”
Unable to resist, I reach out and brush Caroline’s hair back off of her face. I want to kiss this woman. I want to taste and touch every inch of her.
But I can’t.
“Hey,” she says, turning on her side to face me. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
I can’t tell her now. “What kind of flowers do you like?”
It’s an impulse question. I should get her flowers for helping me out this week. Sure, I paid her, but she has been a lifesaver.
“What?” Her brow furrows. “Why?”
“No reason.”
Caroline smiles softly, her eyes drifting shut. “Wildflowers.”
That fits her perfectly.
I retreat to the living room and pick up Evelyn and hug her close, kissing the top of her head. “You know what?” I tell her. “I love you, baby girl.”
Evelyn sighs and nestles into me.
This is what matters—my daughter.
Not my neglected dick.