Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Baker
My ass is dragging as I pull into the garage and hit the button on the visor to close the garage door behind me. We had a preseason game today in Kentucky. Close enough that we took the bus, which means we’re home the same night, in our own beds, since we played the early game.
I’m exhausted, and all I want to do is check in on Camden and fall face-first into my bed.
I don’t even bother bringing in my bag. I’ll get it tomorrow.
Instead, I quietly make my way into the house, disarming the alarm and resetting it before kicking off my shoes and making my way upstairs in the dark.
When I reach Camden’s room, I push open the door, and it takes a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the dim nightlight in his room. When they do, my breath hitches.
Curled up in my son’s bed is Sloane. She has her arms wrapped protectively around my boy, and he’s sleeping as if he’s the safest he’s ever been.
The exhaustion I was feeling leaves, and something else, something stronger, takes its place.
It’s a feeling that’s foreign, and I pretend I don’t know what it is.
Instead, I leave the room and rush down the hall to mine. I change out of the suit I had to wear to the game, into pajama pants, and rush back to them. I don’t hesitate to step over the footrails of the floor bed Sloane and I picked out for Camden, and settle beside Sloane.
This bed was the second-best decision I’ve made in the last few weeks. The first? Hiring Sloane. Having her here, coming home to both of them, it’s surreal, and this moment right here, it’s everything.
Not able to help myself, I snuggle up to Sloane, wrapping my arm around her. She jolts awake. “Shh, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” I press my lips to her cheek, not willing to relinquish my hold on her.
“It’s okay,” she mumbles sleepily.
I wait for her to tell me that she’s going to go to her own bed, but instead, she surprises me when she settles into my embrace. I pull her closer and bury my face in her neck. “I missed you,” I tell her.
“Glad you’re home,” she says, placing her hand over my hand that rests on her belly. She laces her fingers through mine and drifts back to sleep.
For as tired as I was, it takes a while for sleep to finally claim me.
I can’t stop thinking about the woman in my arms. Sloane’s been in my life for a few years now, but it wasn’t until she offered to help me that I genuinely feel as though I got to know her.
Her heart is huge, her smile is vibrant, and she’s sexy as fuck.
My cock hardens thinking about her long, tanned legs.
I should shift so that she doesn’t wake and feel it pressed against her ass, but honestly, I wouldn’t care if she did.
She’s been here for over a month, and each day it’s harder and harder not to touch her.
I manage to do so whenever I can, but this is only the second time I’ve been able to hold her in my arms, and I’m worried that I’ll never be able to sleep again without her next to me. That’s my final thought as sleep finally claims me.
“Daddy, sweep.” I hear Camden try—and fail—to whisper.
“He is,” Sloane whispers. “We should be quiet and not wake him up.”
“Too late,” I say, pulling Sloane back into my chest. Waking up with my arms around her is the best start to my day.
“Daddy!” Camden cheers, and I chuckle. He leans over Sloane, resting his arms on her hips, and smiles at me. “Daddy, sweep.”
“I was, but now, I’m awake. Are you hungry?” I ask him.
He nods and rubs his belly. “Ice cweam.”
Sloane and I both laugh at that. “You’re cute,” I tell my son. “We don’t have ice cream for breakfast.”
“Ice cweam yummy.” He grins, rubbing his belly again, before abandoning his post and climbing out of bed.
I watch him as he runs to the small kitchen set my parents bought him, and starts pretending to make breakfast. “Good morning,” I whisper to Sloane, sliding my hand under her T-shirt.
I know I’m pressing my luck, but the need to feel her soft skin beneath my fingertips wins over my concern that I should not be touching my nanny, my friend, like this. Yet, here I am, and I have no regrets.
She turns to look at me over her shoulder. “Morning. Good game.” She smiles.
“You watched?”
“We both did.” She nods toward Camden. “I was going to invite the girls over, but I didn’t ask you if that was okay, so Cam and I just made a day of it.”
“They’re family, Sloane. Of course, you can invite them over.
I want you to feel like this is your home.
” There’s a deeper meaning to my words that I hope she understands.
I like her here in my space, coming home to her.
It’s been a little over a month, and I can’t imagine not coming home to a house that she’s not living in.
However, I continue to push those thoughts to the back of my mind and ignore them.
She lets me touch her. Lets me steal as much contact as I possibly can, and we never talk about it, like now.
My hand spans over her toned, flat belly, but neither one of us will mention it.
It’s become this thing between us, and while it’s not enough, it is what it is for now.
I know starting something with her will complicate our lives, but the more time I spend with her, I am beginning to think that I don’t really give a fuck how complicated being with her becomes.
She’s starting to feel like home, more than this house ever has.
“What are your plans today?” I ask her.
“You’re off, so I was going to make myself scarce to give you some time with Cam.”
“No,” I say quickly. “Spend the day with us.”
She looks over her shoulder at me. There’s confusion in those big brown eyes of hers. “I don’t want to take your time with him. I know that’s important to you.”
“We both enjoy spending time with you. I mean, unless you don’t want to,” I say, hoping like hell that’s not the case.
“Of course, that’s not it. I just wanted to give you some time.”
“I need time with both of you,” I confess. She doesn’t reply to that, but she doesn’t have to. Her smile tells me she’s in.
“I need to get him changed and some breakfast,” she says, starting to pull away.
I hold on a little tighter. “Just a few more minutes,” I tell her, and she sinks back into the mattress into my embrace.
I hold her close while we both watch Camden playing with his toy kitchen.
I don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, my son deems what he’s working on is finished and brings it to us to try.
Sloane pulls away from me, sitting up and taking the plastic eggs and bacon from Camden, and pretends to eat them.
“Swoan, yummy.” He nods, runs back to his kitchen, and brings me a similar plate of plastic food. “Daddy, eat,” he says, pointing at the plate.
Doing as I’m told, I pretend to devour my food and then claim I’m full, as does Sloane.
Camden takes our plates, proud of himself, and puts them in the sink in his kitchen.
“All right, kiddo, let’s get your butt changed and go down to the kitchen,” I tell my son, before turning to Sloane.
“Go take a bath, a shower, whatever. I’m on Cam duty today.
You’re not here to take care of him today.
You’re here to spend time with us. I’ll make us some breakfast,” I tell her, kissing her temple, before standing and stepping over the bed railing.
“I don’t mind helping. I can get him changed if you want to start breakfast.”
“Nope. No can do. Cam, buddy, do you want to help Daddy make some more food for Sloane?”
“Cam help.” He nods and rushes toward me. I scoop him up in my arms, feel his squishy diaper, and cringe. “Let’s get you changed. Maybe we start trying to use the potty. What do you say?”
“Potty?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.
Sloane laughs. The sound fills the room and wraps around me like a warm embrace. “I don’t think he’s quite there yet, Daddy, but soon,” she says, standing from the bed. “I guess I’ll go shower.”
“We’ll have breakfast ready in no time,” I tell her, not taking my eyes off Camden, where he’s lying on the changing table.
I make quick work of his diaper change and toss him over my shoulder to carry him downstairs.
He laughs, and my lips tug up in a smile.
I’ve been doing more of that lately. And although my son often makes me smile, it’s also his nanny, my friend, the woman I can’t stop thinking about, who’s contributing to that happiness these days, as well.
Thirty minutes later, I’ve got plates of pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs piled on the counter. Camden is in his booster seat at the island, chowing down, when Sloane walks into the room.
“Swoan, pamcake!” Camden holds up a piece of his breakfast and shows it to her.
“You’re eating like a big boy.” She smiles at him.
I take her in. She’s wearing a pair of short athletic shorts and a tank top, with her hair pulled up in a wet, messy knot on top of her head. She’s not wearing a stitch of makeup, and she’s fucking beautiful. She looks comfortable and like she belongs here.
“You look beautiful,” I voice my thoughts, because she needs to know how gorgeous she is.
She looks down at herself and laughs. “I look like a slob, but we’re having a lounging day, right?”
“We are. Just the three of us.” I smile at her.
“Sounds perfect. This looks incredible. Can I help with anything?”
“Nope, it’s done. Just make yourself a plate, and grab a seat. What do you want to drink?”
“Oh, I can get it.” She starts for the cabinet, but I wrap my arms around her waist and hug her tightly to my chest.
“Let me take care of you today.”
Peering up at me under long lashes, her brown eyes sparkle. “Okay. Orange juice, please.”
“You got it.” I kiss her forehead and reluctantly release her so she can fix a plate before choosing the seat at the kitchen island next to Camden.
“Swoan, bite.”
I glance up in time to see Camden feeding her a bite of his pancake, and she takes it, chewing slowly, and exaggerating how good it is. My son smiles at her as if she’s the most remarkable thing he’s ever seen in his life, and all I can think is: Same, son. Same.
I pour her a glass of orange juice, and me a glass of milk, and take the seat next to her. We eat in comfortable silence. Even Camden is quiet as we finish our breakfast.
“Thank you, that was great, but I can’t eat another bite,” Sloane says, standing, grabbing her empty plate and mine, and taking them to the dishwasher.
“I thought I was taking care of you today?” I ask her.
She grins. “You made breakfast. I can clean up. That’s the least I can do.”
Before I can comment, my son slams his sippy cup down on the counter and says, “Ahh,” loud and dramatically, and we both laugh at him.
“You’re a ham,” Sloane says, looking at my son with a soft smile and so much affection in her eyes.
“Cam ham,” he repeats and falls into a fit of giggles.
“Come on, you.” I take off his bib, the kind that catches the mess—well, most of it anyway—and lift him into my arms, just as Sloane appears next to us with a baby wipe to wipe down his face.
He wiggles, and I hold him tighter while sliding an arm around her waist at the same time as she cleans him up.
It feels intimate.
“There, all done.” She leans in and kisses his cheek, before tossing the baby wipe and cleaning up the rest of breakfast.
“What do you want to do today?” I ask them once we’re all in the living room.
“It’s supposed to rain,” Sloane says, “so the park is probably out of the question. We’re going to have to stay inside today.
” Just as she says that, a crack of thunder hits.
Cam freezes and runs toward the couch where Sloane and I are sitting.
There’s a cushion between us, much to my dismay.
I brace myself to catch him, but he surprises me when he runs straight for Sloane.
She, too, is ready and lifts him into her arms and snuggles him close.
“Just a storm,” she tells him. “The sky is angry, and it’s telling us,” she explains.
“Sky sad,” he says, snuggling into her chest.
“Yes, but there’s nothing to be scared of,” she says, her arms wrapping tightly around him.
She might as well be hugging me, the way my body reacts to seeing the two of them together like this. Warmth washes over me, and it feels right. She feels right.
“Daddy’s lonely over here,” I tease.
“Daddy, sit.” Camden points to the spot next to Sloane, and I grin because my son is the best wingman ever.
I’d never use him to pick up a woman, but this is different.
The woman we both want close is here in our home, and you can bet your ass I’m taking advantage of that.
Grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch, I move to sit next to them, tossing it over the three of us.
I put my arm around Sloane, and she immediately leans into me, before handing me the remote.
“What are we watching, Cam?” I ask my son.
“Vroom, vroom,” he says, and I know he wants to watch his favorite movie that has talking cars. I find what I’m looking for and hit the play button before settling back against the couch.
My son, who usually can’t sit still, rubs his hands over the soft blanket while snuggled in Sloane’s arms. Unable to stop myself, I kiss her temple and pull them a little closer.
I can’t think of a single thing I’d rather be doing today on my day off than spending it just like this, with the two of them.