After putting my son to bed, I did what every new mom dreams of doing. I threw a bath bomb into a floating tub and hopped in, the hot water still running at my feet.

It was bliss.

I did have a tub at my other place, but the surroundings were not nearly as luxurious as they were in Brad’s guest bathroom. I hung my arms to the side and rested my head on the soft leather headrest on the edge of the tub. The lavender fragrance from the bath bomb was just starting to soothe me when I opened my eyes, wondering what Brad might be up to.

"A booty call," I mumbled and frowned, then I shrugged and lay back again.

Only now, I couldn't get myself to keep my eyes shut and relax. Images of his strong arms around a random woman were refusing to leave me alone and I couldn't help but feel jealous of her.

How is he able to do this? And is he not attracted to me at all?

A part of me wanted the answer to be a no. I didn't want Brad to be attracted to me because it would bring a whole host of complications that neither of us wanted. But then again, I would be flattered to know if he did, in fact, find me attractive.

I was no beauty queen by any means, not nearly as thin and in shape like that Tanya woman he was sleeping with last week. I never looked like that in the first place, but now that I’d had a baby, I sometimes wasn’t able to recognize myself in the mirror. I often wished that I could just snap my fingers and magically lose the mama weight.

My friend, Dani, was doing way better than I was in terms of getting back in shape. For once, she had the time and luxury to spend an hour at the gym each day. Secondly, her hot husband was an added incentive for her to keep her body in check. If only I, too, had a man like Zander in my life. Someone who would solve my issues before they would arise. Someone who doted on me and showed his face within seconds of my needing him.

I opened my eyes instantly, realizing that Brad did all of those things for me and more. I swallowed and ran my hand over my half-wet hair, then sighed.

Regardless of how perfect he was, the bastard was off licking away his latest prey. I felt the anger swelling up inside me and my hand reached for my phone next to me.

I thought about whether I wanted to interrupt his one-night stand, then shrugged when a pang of jealousy took over me again. Why should the random woman get to have the time of her life while I sit in this tub naked and alone?

I glued the damn thing to my ear and waited, then tightened my lips and slammed the phone back on the small wooden table next to me.

Perhaps it was for the best that he didn't answer. I wouldn't know what to tell him either way.

I tried to push away the jealousy and a whole other set of emotions that were taking over me. But it was all in vain.

I don't get to have these kinds of baths every day, I thought. But my mind wouldn't let me be, and I finally gave up after another miserable fifteen minutes of trying hard to relax. It wasn't meant to me. Maybe relaxation just wasn't written in my cards.

The psychologist in me awoke and told me that my brain was so accustomed to worrying about one thing after the next that I'd forgotten how to lie back and let go of all my problems for a half hour.

The answer was simple. I needed to meditate, and what better time could there be to do that when I was by myself in a beautiful condo while my son was peacefully asleep?

I wrapped the luxurious white bathrobe around my body and ran my fingers through my light-brown strands while checking myself out in the mirror.

I really did need to get myself back on that treadmill.

With the bathrobe still loosely clinging to my skin, I made myself comfortable on a reclining seat in the living room and took a deep breath.

Now we're talking, I thought, though ideally, I should not have been thinking about anything at all.

I inhaled deeply and then felt my chest drop when I slowly exhaled.

I'd barely gotten through the first three minutes of my amateurish meditation when I heard the main door open.

I opened my eyes and saw Brad standing right in front of me.

"Oh, God," he said and turned around, but only after he'd taken a few seconds to rake his gaze over my cleavage and bare thighs.

"Shit," I said as I straightened myself and scrunched both sides of my robe together.

"You weren't supposed to be back until much later," I squealed, standing.

He turned and looked me up and down. "And you were supposed to have clothes on, regardless." His face softened. "Not that I'm complaining."

I folded my arms and smirked. "So, how was your . . . date?"

He pondered over it for a second, then walked to the bar area and removed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinets.

"It wasn't a date. But to answer your question, it was good."

I raised my brows and shifted the weight from my right leg to my left one. "Was it?"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "What's the matter with you, Heather?"

I jerked my head. "Nothing. Why do you ask?"

He walked toward me and swirled his drink. "Because you called me?"

"Oh, that." I tapped my forehead and thought about something believable to say. "There was a problem with the hot water in the shower."

He cocked a brow with a grin. "Are you sure that was it?"

I nodded, semi-confidently.

He shook his head and bent over to open the cabinet under the sink. Meanwhile, I couldn't get myself to move my eyes away from his ass. It looked so round and perfect through his pants that the horny mama in me wanted to dig her nails into it.

I jerked my head to get myself back to reality just in time for him to turn around and slam a pamphlet on the kitchen island.

"Here you go," he said, pointing at it. "This is where you call when you have issues with anything regarding the guest bathroom."

"Fine," I said, unenthused as he walked past me and sat back on his designated throne.

"Can I ask you something?"

He nodded at me.

"Why did you come back home? I mean, if you were having so much fun with . . . whoever you were with?"

He gave me a half-smile and didn't respond until I sat back down.

"Why is it hard for you to believe that I want to be nice to you?"

I shrugged. "Because you're not nice to most women?"

He tilted his head to the side and rested his arm on the back of his seat. "You're not most women, Heather. You're one of my closest female friends."

I smirked. "Seriously, now? I'm your only female friend."

He nodded with a smile and gulped down the rest of his drink.

"Point is that I will be there when you need me. But please make sure you try to reach the plumber before calling me for help."

I laughed with one hand tightly scrunching the part of my robe that loosely covered my legs.

"We've come a long way in a short time, haven't we?"

"Yes, we have."

Brad and I met at my previous apartment when Rachel invited his friend Arthur over for drinks. Arthur ended up begging Brad to tag along with him, and while those fuck buddies got busy being touchy-feely with one another, Brad and I hit it off.

We talked for hours, mostly about motherhood. I was pregnant at the time and I needed someone like him to take a genuine interest in my life. My life was so mundane then and it still was. But somehow, seeing him would make it fun and interesting, even though all I did with him was talk. Brad always knew all the right things to say to me, to make me feel good about the amazing job that I was doing with my son. Motherhood comes with a lot of self-doubts, and I would always feel as though I'd end up harming my son in some way or another. If not, then I would break down and give up with all the stress I had in my life.

It'd been a while since the day I first met him. Rachel was now fucking his other friend, Neil, and my life had moved along in its expected mundane fashion.

"You've come really far too, Heather," he said.

I narrowed my eyes. "Are you being sarcastic?"

He chuckled. "Hardly. You have a much better hold on things now than you did back then. Remember how stressed out you were when you'd just quit your previous job?"

I shook my head. "Yeah. Don't even remind me of that. I was so upset. My boss had finally started to see my potential and I'd even climbed the ladder, but then—"

I paused to let out a sigh. "Sometimes, you need to make sacrifices for your child."

He grinned and crossed his legs.

"Not all parents do that. Mine certainly didn't. So, it's commendable that you put Max's needs ahead of your own."

There was a lot to say in response to his statement, but I kept my mouth zipped. Having a conversation about his parents never led to good things, and I didn't want to spoil the moment.

"Anyway," he said, standing and fixing himself another drink. "Zander Smallwood. Your former boss. I might see him at a conference in a few months. The guy is a legend of some sort."

I laughed. I couldn't help it.

"Yeah. He used to be a legendary asshole, then my friend fixed him up and now he's only a legend."

"She fixed him up?"

I nodded. "It's a long story, but yeah. Dani is awesome. I would love for you to meet her sometime."

He smiled. "I would love to as well."

I ran my hands over the armrests, feeling too lazy to go into my room and change. It was just so rare that I would get moments like these to myself.

"Max seems to have fallen in love with this place too," I said. "I don't think he's ever slept so peacefully in his life."

"In the three months of his life?" Brad chuckled. "You look relaxed too. Remind me what your schedule looks like tomorrow?"

I shrugged.

"Oh, I don't have much going on. I probably need to figure out new schedules with my clients now that they're going to have to come to a new address."

He ran his tongue over his tempting lips as he pondered.

"Do you like working from home?"

I shook my head. "You're talking as if I have a choice."

"Well, we could convert one of the bedrooms into an office for you."

I laughed and held up my hand.

"Stop it, Brad. You've already done enough for me. Now all I ask is that you don't make it impossible for me to want to leave this place in the next three weeks."

He didn't respond for several seconds and I felt the awkwardness lingering between us.

"Okay, I'll tell you what. The least I can do is—"

"No," I cut him off. "Stop it. I can't take any more favors from you. Whatever it is that you want to propose needs to remain buried inside your head."

"One of my housekeepers has a lot of experience with babysitting children," he said anyway.

I rolled my eyes but felt grateful.

"How about you speak to her tomorrow morning? She's going to come by to do her daily cleaning so you can always—"

"Okay," I said, without letting him complete his sentence. "That's an offer too tempting for me to refuse. But . . ."

He raised his brow. "But what?"

"But you will let me thank you in my own way."

He smiled. "Okay, I'm listening."

I was regretting my statement because I had no idea how I would thank the man for being an absolute life saver. It's not like I could buy him something fancy. There was nothing that he didn't have and it's not like I even had the money.

"Let me cook you dinner tomorrow."

He burst out laughing.

"What?" I squealed, stiffening. "You think you're the only one who can cook?"

His laughter mellowed down, and he pointed his finger at himself, then at me.

"Between you and me? Yeah, I think I'm the only one who can cook."

I didn't have it in me to argue with that. The man could cook like a celebrity chef.

In fact, he never tried to do things that he was mediocre at.

"Don't challenge me, Brad," I said, laughing a little myself.

But then, of course, he did.