Max

The half-filled wineglass was a welcome sight. So was Addison, though I hated myself for thinking it. Why the hell hadn’t I drawn up some kind of contingency plan for when we were alone together? Maybe developed some kind of new hobby that took me out of the house in the evenings? Or admitted that I was, in fact, Batman and would be super busy fighting crime.

As it was, I hadn’t. And here we were. And I was screwed.

“That for me?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s a cab. But I can make coffee if you’d rather—”

I shook my head. “No, wine sounds great. I’ve had a long day, and I wouldn’t mind unwinding a little.”

She smiled, her full lips curving in the most inviting way. “I know what you mean.”

I led her out to the living room, and though she seemed uncertain at first, she followed, settling in beside me on the couch.

Close.

Too fucking close.

I could smell her shampoo, and that alone was making my blood run hot.

“God, I don’t know how you drink red wine on here, let alone have a baby crawling around it. I’m getting hives just thinking about spilling.” She lifted her glass and I tried to keep my face impassive.

I hadn’t even thought about the fact that the furniture would be something of a giveaway. No parent in their right mind would have a white couch with a toddler. Even if I’d thought of it, though, I hadn’t had time to replace it. I hadn’t had time to do much of anything. One day things were normal, and the next, Dylan was here.

Now, as I pictured those round cheeks and gummy grin, I found it hard to remember exactly what normal was, though.

“Not to mention the white carpet in Dylan’s room,” Addison added.

“I’m asking for trouble,” I said with a nod. I still wasn’t sure how close to keep my cards to my chest, and I hedged, wondering if I should just tell her the whole sordid tale and get it over with. Luckily, she saved me the trouble of having to make my choice just yet.

“You know, I was thinking . . .” She chewed on her bottom lip, and I tried not to stare at the luscious pink curve. “The rest of the house feels so homey and lived-in. Maybe we could spruce up Dylan’s room a little too? I mean, I don’t know what your budget would be—”

“That sounds like a great idea.” I sipped my wine. “Do whatever you want.”

“You don’t want to have some say in it?” she asked with a frown. “It is your child’s room, and I don’t want to impose.”

I furrowed my brow and shrugged. “Honestly, I wouldn’t even know where to start. So have at it.”

She laughed, a clear, ringing sound that skimmed along my skin and made my posture relax a little more. “Well, why don’t we experiment a little?”

I stared at her, forcing the filthy thoughts of all the ways I’d love to experiment on her from my mind as I waited for her to continue.

“We could both design a room for her, maybe. Have you ever been on Pinterest?” she asked.

This time it was my turn to laugh. “Yeah . . . no. That’s the site where women put pictures of coffee cans that they made into flower pots or something, right?”

“Sometimes.” She lifted the laptop from the coffee table in front of us and handed it to me. “Here, I have it on my phone, and you can use the one on my laptop. So basically, it’s just like an image search. You look around for fun ideas and make a board for them. I’ll even make yours for you.” She leaned across me, brushing her chest against my arm as she moved. Her hair fell in front of her face, and the lavender smell of her shampoo took hold of me again, sending a rush of blood pulsing to my cock.

I shifted, leaning forward to take another sip of my wine, thanking the gods that her computer was hiding my lap from view.

“There.” She looked up at me. “Now enter some search terms like ‘cute baby room ideas,’ and then use the little red push pins to add things to the board. It will give me an idea of the type of stuff you like. I’ll do one too, and in a few minutes, we’ll compare and see what we come up with. Ready?”

I nodded, then racked my brain, thinking of what would go best in Dylan’s room. I wanted it to be nice—not too frilly, and definitely not all decked out in pink decor and crystal chandeliers. Something she could grow into and enjoy.

I picked my pins carefully, and by the time Addison announced the time was up, I was feeling pretty damn confident about my choices.

“All right, who goes first?” she asked.

“I’ve got nothing to hide.” I shrugged and turned the screen toward her.

She glanced at it, then at me, then at the computer again.

“A big-screen TV? She’s one, Max. Plus, you only have three pins,” she said. “We’ve been looking for like twenty minutes.”

“The TV is for when she gets older. Or if she wants to watch Barney or something. The dude kind of freaks me out, to be honest, but hey. Kids like him.”

She raised her eyebrows. “And the Bob Dylan poster?”

At that, I paused, weighing my options. This was the can of worms that I still hadn’t decided if I wanted to open.

“The baby’s namesake.”

Addison’s eyes softened, and she lowered her phone to her lap. “That’s really sweet.”

Silence filled the air, heavy and pronounced, and when she opened her mouth again, her gaze was thoughtful.

“I know it’s not my business. That said, I had wondered . . . if something were to ever happen to you, I know I have your parents’ numbers, but—”

She broke off, but I knew the words she would say before she said them.

“What happened to Dylan’s mom? I don’t want to pry, but I wasn’t sure if I could expect her to stop by, or what to say as Dylan grows older and someone asks,” she said, looking apologetic.

I let out a sigh. Of course Addison would wonder that. It was only natural. But how could I tell her the truth? Then again, what choice did I have now?

“Dylan is new to my life, actually,” I said, wondering how best to explain what had happened to Jenn—what had happened to me. “I dated her mother, Jenn, for a couple of months last year. I wasn’t ready for anything serious and she was, so I broke things off. I didn’t hear from her once it ended. Fast forward to a few days ago when she left Dylan on my doorstep and said she couldn’t handle it anymore. I had no idea she was ever pregnant.”

“Oh my God.” Addison raised a hand to her mouth, but before she got the chance to respond, I rushed on.

“Look, I know it’s weird. But just because I’ve only known Dylan for five days doesn’t mean that I don’t love her as deeply as any father loves his daughter.” I didn’t know why, but it felt important that Addison knew that. The defensive tone to my voice was hard to hide. Since she’d arrived, there hadn’t been a single moment that felt like a sacrifice. Making room for Dylan in my life was easy—I really did love the little thing already.

“This just . . .” She shook her head. “It explains so much.”

“It does?”

“There are no pictures of her or Dylan as an infant anywhere. And I couldn’t understand why you’d give a baby an entire piece of burned toast with peanut butter on it for breakfast.”

I let out a grudging laugh. “I’m clearly still getting a handle on this whole thing.”

“So, what happened to Dylan’s mother? Where did she go? Does she want to see Dylan again?”

I swallowed. I didn’t know the answers to those questions. How could I explain this to Addison if I couldn’t even explain it to myself? I’d been the one to screw things up with Jenn in the first place. Maybe if I had just stopped her from leaving, or if I’d told her something, anything, when she’d asked about having a family, I wouldn’t have missed the first year of Dylan’s life.

I didn’t know what she looked like when she was born, and hadn’t gotten to celebrate her first steps or her first tooth. It was all my fault. Because Jenn had known she was pregnant when she’d asked about having kids. Instead of probing or realizing how emotional that conversation had been on her part, I’d just written it off and let her go.

These last few days, late at night when I was alone in bed, I’d begun wondering if somewhere deep down, I’d known all along and it had just been more convenient to ignore.

My heart flipped in my chest as I thought of the ramifications of those actions.

Jesus, what if Jenn hadn’t brought her to me? What if I’d missed countless more milestones as Dylan grew up without her father?

I cleared my tightening throat and shrugged, turning my attention back to Addison, who waited patiently for my reply.

“I’m not sure what Jenn’s plans are, but no matter what, Dylan will be in my life going forward,” I said finally.

Addison nodded. “She’s a lucky girl.”

I winced and took another slug of wine. “Debatable.”

She patted my arm gently and then pulled her hand away. “I see how you are with her. You’re a natural when it comes to the important stuff, like love and attention. And hey, we’ve all got our regrets, you know?”

“Do we?”

She pursed her lips, apparently at war with herself, then in a too-casual tone, she said, “Sure. Hey, I turned my last boyfriend gay, so . . . you know, sometimes life is full of curveballs.”

“You did not turn him gay,” I scoffed.

“I promise you, he was definitely gay, and you do not want to know the details.”

“That’s not what I mean,” I said. “You didn’t turn him gay. He probably just wasn’t willing to admit to himself or anybody else that he was gay, and you got caught in the crosshairs. Happens to more people than you think.”

She rolled her eyes and took another sip of her wine.

“Truly, any man would be lucky to have you. You’re beautiful and funny and smart.”

She looked up at me through her thick lashes, a soft, thoughtful expression in her eyes. A pretty pink blush colored her cheeks as she said, “Thank you.”

I shook my head, ignoring the pulse fluttering in her neck and the swell of her breasts. “Just stating the facts. Now, you still have to show me what you came up with that is apparently so much better than a sweet-ass baby cave with a big-screen TV and a Dylan poster.”

“Oh, you’re on!”

She clicked on her phone, then handed it to me. It looked like a real little girl’s room—pictures of boxy white bookcases filled with brightly colored books, stuffed animals, and toys abounded. There were soft, fluffy blankets, and in one picture, just above the crib, hung a hand-painted plaque with the quote, “She be small but mighty.”

Everything was in shades of dove gray and pink with touches of yellow. These were only pictures, but I already felt like it was special somehow. Like it had all been put together just for Dylan.

“This is great,” I said sincerely. “I’m impressed.”

Addison shrugged, and her fingers brushed over mine as she reclaimed her phone. “One of my favorite hobbies. It’s nothing.”

“I beg to differ.”

She rolled her eyes again.

“Are you always so hard on yourself?” I asked.

Her blush deepened, and she swirled her wine thoughtfully. “Maybe. It’s just . . . you wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” I said, and something in my tone made her straighten. She let out a deep breath, her brow furrowing again.

“Fine. It’s just like, have you ever felt like a complete disaster area?”

I nodded. “When I first started my construction business, I knew I was going to torch everything important to me. I’d left the Army and the promise of a promotion to do something I had no experience in. It’s just one of those things you have to let play out. I love working with my hands, and if I hadn’t given it a try—”

She shook her head furiously. “No, it’s like ever since everything happened with Greg, I feel like I’m a failure, you know? I’m a disappointment.” Her face turned the brightest shade of red yet as she mumbled, “In the guy department. Ugh, this might be the wine talking, but I feel like he shattered my confidence. Like no man will ever truly want me.”

“If we’d met under different circumstances, I would show you how very wrong you are.” The words came out before I could stop them and in a voice that had dropped to a low growl.

Addison stared at me, her mouth half-open, her eyes unblinking.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

Sure, I was attracted to her, more than attracted. If she were anyone else, I would have been unbuttoning her pajama top an hour ago. Hell, I might have fucked her right on the kitchen table if she was down.

But she wasn’t anyone else. She was Dylan’s nanny. And a great one at that.

I could be attracted to her, but I had to keep my dick in my pants—especially now that I was rock hard, thinking about her spreading her legs open for me on the kitchen table.

I cleared my throat and slapped my hands on my knees. Time to retreat before I fucked this up even harder.

“Anyway, I better get to bed. Big day tomorrow.”

“Um, yeah, g’night,” she murmured, her words barely above a whisper.

I left my wineglass on the table and stood, careful to hide my erection as I marched up the stairs and disappeared into my bathroom.

“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath.

Total clusterfuck. She could be down there right now wondering if she should pack her bags and bolt.

Then I thought back to her expression at the end there. The way her pupils had dilated, the way her delicate nostrils had flared, just slightly. Had her nipples gone hard beneath that pajama top?

I groaned again and slid my hand down the front of my straining zipper. No way I was going to get any rest tonight until I tamed this fucking beast. I took my cock in hand, thinking of how soft and supple Addison’s skin would be against my chest. The lavender smell of her hair. The heat in her eyes when I’d all but told her how much I wanted her.

I gripped myself harder, imagining that it was her full lips wrapped around my cock instead, working me up and down while her tongue lapped at the head, teasing me before she dipped lower and took all of me into her mouth.

Damn, how I’d like to weave my fingers through her hair and feel her tits brush against my thighs while she was on her knees in front of me, sucking every last inch and still moaning for more.

She didn’t feel sexy or desirable? By the time I was finished with her, she would feel like a fucking goddess. The way she walked, the way she moved her hips, I knew that she would be heaven between the sheets.

Or on top of a table.

Or against the wall.

Or in the fucking street, for all I cared.

I imagined myself sinking between her thighs and pushing deep, feeling her hips grind against me while I worked her sweet pink pussy.

Fuck, if she let me at her, she would have all the confidence in the world.

My balls drew up and I suppressed a groan as the need to come filled me. Working myself harder and faster, I closed my eyes, imagining those sweet lips wrapped around me, those wide eyes staring into mine.

“Fu-uck!”

I came in a hot, pulsing surge, relishing the wave of euphoria that swept over me, making my muscles quake. My breath was coming in long drags as I let my eyes slip open again.

No big deal. This was perfectly normal for a red-blooded male living with sex on a stick. The old nanny fantasy.

In my dirty mind, Addison was the perfect sensual vixen, ripe for the taking.

And in my mind was exactly where she’d have to stay.