Chapter 4 #3
As I meet his gaze, the exhaustion hits me all at once.
I’ve been pulling double shifts for months, working myself into the ground just to make the minimum payments.
My body aches constantly. I can’t remember the last time I slept more than five hours.
I’m so tired of living like this. Of waking up every morning already defeated before the day even starts.
I don’t remember the last time I laughed openly, enjoyed something.
“I don’t know anymore.” The admission comes out quieter than I intend and more vulnerable than I want it to be.
Grayson is silent for a moment. Then he says, “I can front you the money.”
My head snaps up. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“Who knows what you’ll make me do in exchange?” I narrow my gaze at him suspiciously. “I’m not trading one debt for another.”
“I can guarantee I would be a better loan shark than that asshole.” He grins at me. “Besides, I don’t need your money. I need something else.”
“Something else?” I ask cautiously, giving him a wary look.
“With my son.” His expression turns serious. “Maybe you could help me with Ethan.”
I blink at him. “Help with what?”
“His nanny is retiring. Linda’s been with us since Ethan was six months old, but she’s in her eighties and wants to rest.” He runs a hand through his hair, and the gesture is so unexpectedly human it catches me off guard. “And Ethan doesn’t adjust to people well. But he keeps asking for you.”
Warmth blooms in my chest. “He does?”
“He hasn’t stopped talking about you.” Grayson’s mouth quirks in a small smile that is part bewilderment and part helplessness.
I have no idea how to respond to that.
“Maybe you could babysit him sometimes while I look for a new nanny,” he says. “Nothing permanent. Just until he gets used to someone new.”
“No.” The word comes out firm.
Grayson’s expression doesn’t change. “No?”
“I don’t want to get involved with you any more than I already am.” I meet his eyes. “Let’s just finish our meal and you can get my car fixed. That’s it.”
He sighs, leaning back in the booth. “You’re so difficult.”
“Thank you.” I pick up my milkshake and take a sip. It’s sweet and cold and absolutely delicious. He was right about me needing to eat.
“Can you still help with Ethan sometimes?” His voice is quieter now. Almost hesitant. “Because of my career, I can’t trust him with just anyone. Especially women.”
“You do realize I’m basically a stranger, right?”
“Yes.” He doesn’t hesitate. “But you helped my son before. And I trust you.”
The simple statement lands between us like a stone dropped in still water.
“I can pay you for spending time with him,” he continues. “He doesn’t have any female role models in the house. I think it would be good for him.”
“What about his mother?”
Grayson’s expression darkens. The transformation is instant and complete. The light-hearted, flirtatious man across from me vanishes, replaced by someone grim and closed-off. “She’s no longer in the picture.”
The finality in his tone makes it clear that the subject is off-limits.
I’m quiet for a moment, then venture, “Have you considered remarriage?”
“Out of the question.” His voice is cold. “One failed marriage is enough. And I don’t want to subject my son to a stepmother either.”
I study him across the table. The hard set of his jaw. The way his hands have curled into fists. Whatever happened with Ethan’s mother, it clearly left deep scars.
Our waitress returns with the food, and the table is suddenly covered in plates. The three burgers are massive, steam rising from the meat. The fries are golden and crispy. And my chicken pot pie looks like something out of a food magazine.
“Anything else I can get you two?” she asks.
“We’re good, thanks.” Grayson is already reaching for his first burger.
I pick up my fork, cutting into the pot pie. The filling is rich and savory, and my stomach rumbles in anticipation.
“I’m free on Saturdays,” I hear myself say.
Grayson pauses mid-bite, looking at me.
“I go running in the park where we met,” I continue, not quite believing the words coming out of my mouth. “I can meet you there in the mornings. If you want.”
His face breaks into a grin. “Excellent.”
I immediately regret everything. What have I signed up for? The more I try to stay away from this man, the more entangled we become. It’s like the universe has decided to throw us together no matter how hard I try to maintain distance.
“Don’t look so thrilled,” Grayson says, his tone teasing. “Spending time with a four-year-old isn’t that bad.”
“It’s not Ethan I’m worried about.” I take another bite of my pot pie, avoiding his eyes.
“Oh?” His voice drops lower, more intimate. “Then what are you worried about?”
You, I think. I’m worried about you and the way you make me feel. The way my heart races when you look at me. The way I noticed every defined muscle in your chest earlier. The way I’m hyperaware of your presence even now, across a diner table.
But I don’t say any of that.
Instead, I say, “Nothing. Eat your food.”
He laughs, and the sound wraps around me like warmth.
We eat in relative silence after that. I finish my pot pie, and Grayson makes it through all three burgers plus the fries and onion rings. When our waitress brings the apple pie, he slides it across to me.
“I’m full,” I protest.
“You’re going to waste a perfectly good pie?”