Chapter 1
Chapter One
PAIGE
“Jacob Lawrence Whitaker!” I whisper-shout, careful not to wake my employer’s newborn baby, Cassian, whose tiny head rests securely against my chest, cradled in his carrier. “You get away from that pool right now!”
School just got out for the summer, and my boy is with me, even while I work. I love having him wherever I go, but sometimes, it’s a lot.
Jacob takes one look at me, smirks, and pretends to jump in—and then slips. His eyes go wide, and his arms flail uselessly as he falls. All the breath in my lungs leaves on a silent scream, but I only let out a single word.
“No.”
I don’t know if he hit his head. I can’t see him from this angle. What if he’s already inhaled water? I’m sprinting to the pool when I remember the tiny baby in my arms. Panic claws up my chest and into my throat. I can’t jump into water with this tiny life strapped to me, but … What about my baby?
“Jacob!”
I have to get to my boy. I must put the baby down safely, but I have to get to my boy.
When did this yard get so massive? How am I not there yet?
The water is in sight, but my child is not.
I scan the deep water for any sign of his tiny body and for a place along the side where I can safely leave Cassian.
I’m running out of time to make an impossible decision when a man in a three-piece suit sprints past me and jumps into the pool ahead of me.
I slam to a stop at the edge and watch with my heart in my throat.
A combination of relief and anger surges through me at the sight of my son grinning ear to ear.
Part of me wants to ground him for life, while the other part wants to burst into tears and hug him forever.
He’s safe. Mostly satisfied with my son’s safety, my eyes drift back over to Josh, my employer, who, it seems, is now also somehow smiling, despite the obviously ruined suit.
Thank God.
I force a grin in return as they leave the pool. My Jacob has curly blond hair, just like me, though cut much shorter, and Josh Bright is all dark hair, dark eyes, and massive. Despite their opposing looks, their boyish energy is nearly identical.
Once Jacob is in reach, I wrap one arm protectively over his shoulder, and with my other hand, I squeeze Josh’s arm. “Josh, thank you so much for jumping in and saving him,” I tell him, true appreciation evident in my tone.
Jacob’s good humor quickly evaporates, and he grumbles about being all wet.
I don’t even get to address this before Cassian starts fussing in his wrap.
Damn. “Just a second, kiddo.” Cassian’s feeding alarm blares on my phone, so I bounce the crabby baby in his carrier, jostling my son.
“Aren’t you the magic little time keeper? ”
Jacob shrugs out of my hold, and I let him. Knowing my own child is safe means I can refocus on caring for this little one. I direct my son to the back entrance to the house, mentally checking off what I need to do now. Get Cassian’s bottle started, grab Jacob’s extra clothes—
“I’d like to feed him.” I pause at the doorway and pivot back to the dripping wet young father. He gestures to the baby in my arms. “You can take care of yours.” He nods at Jacob.
Pointedly, I watch as his suit creates a puddle on the ground. He follows my gaze.
“Oh, hel-heck.” He grips the back of his neck. “I should dry off first.” Turning to Jacob, he says, “You wanna come with me to get a towel and some dry clothes, bud?”
I answer for him. “He has extra clothes in my car. I’m always ready for one disaster or another. I’ll get them while you get dried?”
“Sounds like a game plan.” He flashes his dimpled smile at me, then sloshes away. I give him a pass for being a first-time parent. I was far less prepared for mine.
Josh and Caroline Bright hired me when they first moved to Briar Ridge a few months ago.
She was in her third trimester, and they were excited for their baby.
Originally, I was meant to start in August when the baby was a few months old, but circumstances changed at Caroline’s job, prompting an earlier start.
When I explained that I would likely need to bring my child to work with me, they were perfectly fine with it.
Well, Josh said it would be fine. Interestingly, Caroline wasn’t a part of that conversation.
By the time Jacob is sorted, Cassian is nearly at his full meltdown. The pitiful baby mewls make my heart squeeze. Josh meets us in the entryway with a towel.
“Towel for Mr. Phelps.” Josh jokes.
Jacob grabs the towel from him and walks past without saying a word.
“Jacob,” I say sternly.
“What?” I give him the mom look. He sighs, then faces Josh more fully. “Sorry. Thank you, Mr. Bright.” Jacob looks back at me for my approval, and at my nod, he walks through the hall to the guest bathroom. Once he’s out of sight, I turn more fully to Josh. “Are you ready for yours?”
“Huh?” He shakes his head, then focuses on his yowling baby. “Oh. Yeah.” He holds out his arms. With a grateful sigh, I disentangle myself from the wrap and pass the inconsolable baby to him. I nearly give him instructions before I catch myself.
“I used the last breast milk bottle you have in there. Do you need help with the wrap?” I ask, watching him struggle.
He laughs. “Yeah. I don’t quite have the hang of this.” I laugh, too, and while he holds the baby, I wrap the fabric around him, explaining the steps as I go. Once I finish, I watch as he goes into the kitchen, keeping a critical eye on my wrap job. It looks secure.
A knock on the door pulls me from my observation.
When I see who it is, a giant smile spreads across my face.
My husband lightly raps his knuckles on the glass again as his steady blue eyes watch me from the other side.
I can’t help rushing to greet him. I throw open the door and leap into Trevor’s solid, familiar warmth.
Strong arms catch me, wrapping me in a comforting, soul-soothing hug. This is where I’m home.
Trevor
My wife looks at me, her eyes distant for a moment, but once they clear, her face transforms, softening.
My heart stutters in my chest at the look.
Perfection. She becomes untethered, flying through the door and leaping into my arms. I grip her by her thighs and hold tight while she squeezes me tighter.
Jesus, I love this woman. From the moment she walked into my English class, I have been under her spell.
“Hey, baby,” I whisper into her hair.
“Hey, baby,” she says into my neck.
“Ugh, gross.” I feel her lips move into a smile against my skin at the sound of our disgruntled child. I look up into the hallway and frown. Our disgruntled, wet child.
“Why is our boy a little drowned poodle?” I continue speaking into her riot of fragrant curls. At this, she pops her head up and starts to, unfortunately, untangle herself from me.
“We’ll talk about that later,” she says quietly, so Jacob can’t hear.
“Okay …”
“Oh. Hey, Trevor,” Josh says, exiting the kitchen with a baby in his arms.
“Josh,” I respond kindly. Probably.
“Hey, Josh.” Paige throws me a look, so maybe not so kindly. “Trevor stopped by to eat lunch with us. I hope that’s alright?” Her asking for his permission is not my favorite thing. I get it, but I don’t like it.
“Of course, Paige.” He gives her a nod and pats my boy on the shoulder, all while feeding the infant strapped to him. I notice his hair is also wet.
“What did you bring us, Dad?” Always Hungry Jacob asks me, already walking confidently across the Brights’ home toward the back porch.
“Guess.” I head back to the door to pick up the bags I happily dropped to catch my wife.
Once I’m out back, I lift them into the air, and he cheers. “Yes! Did you get me the Heroic Beast with pickles?”
He bounces in his seat while he waits for Paige and me to settle at the table on the Brights’ covered back porch.
I reach into the bag and pull out each of our sandwiches.
“Oh, shoot, you wanted pickles? I thought you wanted something else on it.” His little face falls for a moment before he fixes on a smile for me.
“It’s okay, Dad. I’m just glad you got me the Mega sandwich.”
He sounds honest enough, but I know my boy. “Is it okay if I asked them to put on extra pickles?” I hold out his sandwich that has a large Extra Pickles sticker on the wrapping.
“Yes!” he says, earlier enthusiasm returned as he nabs his sandwich from my hand.
“And for my love, a spicy Italian sub with way too many veggies and mayo.” Her eyes are soft as she takes it from me, but then she frowns when she reads the label.
What did I do? “That’s … not your order?”
“Oh, it just says ranch on the sticker, not mayo. I’m sure they just made a mistake.” She carefully unwraps her sandwich, and her eyebrows pinch together. “Oh, it’s fine.”
I drop my sandwich before I even unwrap it. “Can we scrape off the ranch? There must be some packets in the bag, or maybe Josh—” She places her hand on mine when I’ve reached out for her sandwich. Her wrong sandwich.
“Honey, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. Ranch is not that bad, honest.”
Fine. What a horrible word.
“If you’re sure. I’m happy to fix this, baby. I was trying to help out by feeding you. This doesn’t quite hit the mark I was aiming for.” Her beautiful face is full of understanding, and I hate myself a little.
“Thank you for thinking of me, Trev.”
“Always, Paige.” But it isn’t enough to think of her.
I was supposed to get this right. I’m about to suggest another solution when my phone rings.
It sits face up on the table, Krista’s name lighting up the screen.
I answer it, leaving the table so my family can start eating without me yapping over them.
“Whitaker.”
“Hey, Trev, it’s Krista. Your one o’clock is here early.
You told me to let you know as soon as they arrive.
” I check my watch. 12:15. What the fuck?
Why the hell would they be so early? “Mr. Mendez said he’d prefer to be finished by one o’clock instead of just starting.
” She says it quietly, as if trying not to be overheard.
I look over at the table where my wife scrapes her sandwich, and my son devours his massive, pickly meal.
Just like that, the thirty minutes I got with my family and away from hell disappear before my eyes.
“Alright. Thanks, Krista. I’ll see you soon.
” I hang up before she has a chance to say anything else and return to my family, shoulders hunched with my disappointment.
“Ya gaw-a go, Dad?” my boy says with a mouth full of food.
“Yeah, kiddo. I’m sorry about this.” I reluctantly hug him, then my wife, unhappy to leave my peace so soon. “You’ll tell me about the hair later?” I ask Paige quietly.
She gives me her signature soft smile. “Yeah. I’ll tell you when we’re all at home.”
I smack a kiss on her lips and head to the door. “I love you, son. I love you, my world.”
“Wuva ad!” Jacob says with a still-full mouth.
“I love you, my star,” my world says back to me.