Addison

I let out a slow, calming breath and then forced myself to hold in my squeak of glee when I opened the door.

“Guess what?” I swung my arms wide, careful not to fling the bag of takeout in my hand across the room.

Lara turned around, midway through stirring whatever was in the skillet on the stove.

I frowned, my shoulders slumping. “I brought home dinner. I thought it was my night.”

Lara shrugged, shooting me a half smile. “Figured you’d be busy, so I made chicken marsala.”

I pushed the door closed behind me, practically trembling with excitement.

“But I’m guessing that’s not what you came in here all fired up to tell me?” Lara said.

I skirted around the couch, still pulled out from the night before, and set the bag of food on the counter. “No. It’s not.” The squeak I’d been holding in escaped, sounding like the air coming out of a balloon. “I got the job, and I start tomorrow!”

“Holy shit, yay! That was fast.” Lara’s eyes widened. “So, what do you think?”

“I think it’s perfect. The house is on the cutest little street.” I pressed my hand to my heart.

Maxwell Alexander lived in a well-kept two-story brick house tucked back on a deep lot filled with mature trees. It was a very pretty home . . . white brick with black shutters framing the windows, a big front porch, and a bright red front door.

“My favorite thing about it was the trees. It makes you feel safe, like you’re hidden away in the woods.” Then again, that could have been because symbolically, and maybe literally, I was all about hiding.

But not anymore. I wasn’t hiding at this job. There, with baby Dylan, I was going to be my authentic self. I was going to be completely and totally honest.

Except, of course, for one tiny little detail . . .

“All right, girl, relax. You’re just working there, you’re not getting buried there,” Lara said with a chuckle.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s just the perfect environment. And this little girl—oh my God, you should see her. She’s an absolute dream.”

“How can a one-year-old be a dream? They’re like screaming little poop machines,” Lara said with a shudder.

“She never cried. She came right to me, and she was a complete delight. I think it’s going to be perfect.”

I let out another long sigh, picturing the untidy living room. Before long, it was going to be cluttered with toys and books, and I would be there with Dylan, taking care of her and doing what I was always meant to do. And then in the evening, I’d make dinner, and Max would come home and . . .

And I would let them enjoy their family time. And stay far away from her hottie of a daddy, Max. Because the new Addison was firmly rooted in reality and aware of everything going on around her.

Lara spooned the chicken, mushrooms, rice, and sauce onto plates, and I grabbed some naan and hummus from the bag I’d brought. We sat together at the tiny table in the corner of the room to eat.

“Tell me, how was your day? I’m totally hogging the spotlight,” I said, feeling like a bit of a fraud for not even mentioning how sexy Max was. It was so not relevant, but still.

“No, no,” Lara said as she forked her chicken. “My day was nothing to write home about. I want to hear more about you. Go on.”

“Well . . .” I searched my brain. “I think he’s going to need some help with the baby’s room. I don’t get the feeling that he has a passion for decorating. But that will be a fun job for me, I think.”

“What’s he like?” Lara raised her eyebrows. “Cute?”

I shrugged and tried to keep my cheeks from flushing. “Sure. I mean, yeah, I guess.”

Lara chewed, then after she swallowed, asked, “How did he end up a single father? Is he divorced or a widower?”

I frowned. “Oh, I, um, didn’t ask.”

Of course, it had occurred to me to ask, but given my frantic heartbeat and near-panting status when I got within five feet of the guy, I thought it was probably best not to focus too much on how single he was. After all, it was an interview, not a speed date.

“Weird.” Lara shook her head. “Men almost never get custody.”

“I guess not. I didn’t really think about it.”

“Too taken with the picturesque neighborhood and hobbit-like forest?” Lara laughed.

“Oh, make your jokes, but I’m telling you, you would be knocked out by this place too. I think I can really make a difference here. Max has this cool philosophy about making sure Dylan—that’s the baby—stays down to earth. No Snow White nonsense for her, just a pink tool set and a good strong work ethic.”

Lara pursed her lips. “No dress-up?”

“Not the princess kind.” I picked off a piece of naan and popped it into my mouth. “I think it’s good. Healthy.”

“Whatever you say. You’re the nanny.” She held up her hands in surrender and then retrieved her fork.

“Yeah, I think this could really work out, you know? It could be really, really great,” I repeated, then took another bite of my food, although I barely tasted it.

Instead, I was thinking about the house. And Dylan.

And what it was going to be like when tomorrow came and I was all alone there.

With Max.

If he noticed the way I’d looked at him, he definitely wouldn’t have given me the job. I had to hope that the charisma pouring off him and the effect of that smoking-hot bod wore off once we spent a few days around each other. Otherwise? I was in big trouble. And I wasn’t about to ruin this dream opportunity.

“Are you nervous about living with a strange man?” Lara asked, and I blinked for a minute, certain she could read my mind.

“No, no, of course not. It’s professional. Totally professional.” I stumbled over the words and Lara smirked.

“I never said it wasn’t. Unless you think—”

“No, I don’t. I said yesterday, remember? I’ve sworn off men. I clearly can’t be trusted to make the right choices. I was with Greg and then, bam. All my dreams were gone. Two years of my life wasted.”

“But we weren’t talking about romance, I thought?” Lara asked lightly.

“We’re not. I’m just saying—” I shook my head. “Ugh, it came out all wrong.”

“So he’s hot, huh?” Lara asked, that knowing smirk still mocking me.

I wanted to bang my head against the dining room table. “Yes,” I confessed on an exhale. “He’s gorgeous. He’s tall and tanned and muscular, and he’s got that jaw—you know how some guys have that defined jaw?”

“I do.” Lara nodded.

“But anyway, I’m not going to get involved with him,” I pronounced.

“Because you’ve sworn off men?”

“And because he’s my boss,” I sputtered. “Can you imagine the disaster? I’m not going to be homeless and jobless again. Not ever.”

Lara shrugged. “Probably a smart move. But are you sure you can resist him?”

I snorted. “Positive,” I said with a nod.

Then I thought back to the way he’d looked when he opened the door, his hair all messy, his face in need of a shave, that scowl painted across his full lips, and the bad-boy ink on both forearms. He wasn’t like any other man I’d ever seen in real life, and certainly none that I’d dated.

In truth? That was no small part of the appeal. But self-destructive, bad-decision-making Addison was dead and gone.

And she was going to stay that way.