The first day of November and a chilly wind tore through our fair city of Los Angeles at ten in the morning. The first cold front of the fall season had arrived, bringing with it an enthusiasm for change.

I stood, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows of my fifteenth-floor office. In the distance the waves coming in off the Pacific Ocean took my attention as I waited for my personal assistant, Janine Lee, to let me know when my video conference was up and going.

My job was CEO of Forester Industries; a business passed down to me by my father. He’d inherited the company from his father and had turned it from a million-dollar company to a billion-dollar one.

Was I born with a silver spoon in my mouth?

That would be a yes. I had never known hardships, poverty, or the feeling of going to bed hungry. I had only known the world of the super-rich. A world where you asked for something and you got it. And it all happened very quickly.

Maybe all that instant gratification wasn’t healthy for me, because I was impatiently waiting for the first time in my life. At thirty, some might say I hadn’t even begun to live my life yet, but waiting for my dream to be built felt like an eternity to me.

At a prestigious nightclub in Vegas one night a few months ago, I met a couple of fellow billionaire’s at Hakkasan, a nightclub for the extremely wealthy. One could blow a hundred grand with ease at the place. And it was there that a plan was hatched to build a nightclub comparable to that one.

Hakkasan was number one on the top-ten chart of high-status nightclubs around the world. The men I met that night wanted to build something even better than that. And right here in L.A., the place we all called home, coincidentally.

It took us no time to find a place and get construction going on the club. Currently, we were bantering about the name of the place—hence the conference I was waiting for. We were at the stage where the name was necessary to order insignia and other things that would carry the nightclub’s name on them.

I turned away from the window as my office door opened. There stood Janine, all four-feet-five-inches of her. Her short hair hung in dark-black, silky strands around her round face. Thick-framed glasses housed her chocolate eyes. One hand on her hip, she jerked her head in gesture. “Mr. Forester, your Skype conference is up in the conference room. August Harlow and Nixon Slaughter are ready and waiting for you, sir.”

“Excellent.” I strode across my large office, following her to the room at the end of the hallway. “Do you think you could find me a coffee this morning? Something that says fall is here?”

“I’m on it, boss.” She flipped her hair and turned, heading off to find what I’d asked for. The woman was amazing. At nearly forty, she was adept at making things happen for those she worked for. I was lucky enough to have found her when her old boss had passed away a few years back.

She and I had something in common, we found out, as we accidentally met at the funeral home where her boss’ memorial was taking place and where my father’s body had just arrived.

It was in the hallway that we both went for the same box of tissues. And in that tragic moment, we found each other. She told me about her boss and her lack of a job as a personal assistant. I told her about how I was —now—with the loss of my —father—the CEO of a large business and could use a personal assistant. And in that sad moment, a partnership was made that would make us both feel better about life in general after suffering from our losses.

My mother had passed on several years prior to my father. Breast cancer took her from us. Being an only child, my father’s death left me utterly alone in the world—something I wasn’t real crazy about being.

But with Janine’s appearance right at the time I felt the most alone I’d ever felt, came hope. Perhaps things wouldn’t always feel the way they did at that time. One day, things would get better. One day I wouldn’t be the only member of the Forester family. Or so I hoped anyway.

Not that I was looking for a wife or anything. I was a bit on the busy side to be doing that. But once I had things the way I wanted them, the nightclub included, then I would slow down and find time to date more and find Miss Right. Instead of what I had been doing—settling for Miss Right Now.

Currently, I wasn’t even messing with Miss Right Now. I was involved in my work as the CEO and my work with the club. There just wasn’t time for anything else.

Stepping into the conference room, I found my partners faces on two of the large screens that ran in a circle around the room. Some conferences for the business took up all seven screens at once. We were global, after all.

August and Nixon greeted me with wide smiles as I came in and took a seat. “Morning, gentlemen. And I do use that term lightly,” I joked.

August smirked. “So the time has come for us to put our bickering behind us and agree on a name for this nightclub.”.

Nixon picked up, “Let the record show, I like the name, Club X.”

I threw down, “And I’ve told you before, that name is much too common.”

“Yes,” August agreed. “But, Gannon, you have yet to come up with a name. You’ve shot down all the ones we’ve come up with, though. So I am throwing you into the middle of this debate and challenging you to come up with a name on the fly so to speak. You have one minute.”

“What?” I looked back and forth at the screens, finding two earnest faces. “I’m not that creative. You guys are …”

“You’re wasting time, Gannon,” Nixon reminded me.

August’s arched brow told me he was completely serious as he looked at his watch. “The time is ticking away. Thirty seconds, Gannon, or we’re sticking with Club X.”

“No! Wait—give me one more minute—I’m terrible under pressure.” I pinched the bridge of my nose as I tried to inject some creativity into my business brain.

August wasn’t giving in and was not about to give me any more time. “Nope, no extra time, and we’re coming in on ten, nine …”

One word popped into my head, and I blurted it out, “Swank!”

I looked back and forth at my partners and was shocked to see smiles curling their lips. August nodded. “I like it.”

Nixon chuckled. “Me too. Swank, it is, then.” He looked at August through the other screen. “Seems we’ve had a productive meeting, August. Time to get back to our real jobs. Catch you guys later in the week. Nixon, out.” The screen with his face on it went black.

August gave me a nod. “Back to work, buddy. Let’s get together on Friday evening for dinner and drinks.”

“You got it.” I had to laugh as he ended the call. My friends knew I worked best under pressure, and they were, as always, expert manipulators

Walking out of the conference room, I heard Janine arguing with another woman, “No, you may not go looking for Mr. Forester, Miss!”

“Out of my way, you midget!”

I headed in the direction I heard the voices coming from and found my assistant trying her best to stop a tall, skinny redhead with a small boy at her side. He huddled against her leg, eyes wide with dismay at the shouting.

The irate woman’s dark-brown eyes caught mine. “Gannon Forester, there you are.”

“And you are?” I inquired, giving the boy what I hoped was a reassuring smile. Not that I knew the first thing about kids. Surprisingly, he ducked his head shyly and then looked back up, offering a sweet gap-toothed grin.

The woman cleared her throat impatiently. “Cassandra Harrington. Surely you remember me.” Her thin lips pulled into a smile. “Club Acapulco on the strip?”

Not a clue …

I had the feeling I didn’t want to talk to the woman in the hallway with so many people’s ears leaning our way. “Would you mind stepping into my office, Mrs. Harrington?”

“Miss. And that’s where I wanted to talk to you at in the first place, but this little troll …”

I took her by the arm and ushered her and the little boy into my office. The way she shoved the kid forward, like he was a sack of flour, irked me for some reason. As I closed the door behind us, I rolled my eyes apologetically at Janine and she winked, ever-unperturbed. Her husband was a lucky man, and he knew it.

I turned back to Miss Harris and watched as her face twisted in what looked like disgust as she let the boy go and gave him a nudge—really more like a shove—away. “Stop clinging. Gannon, this is Braiden Michael Forester. Your son.”

My brain froze. My eyes shot straight to the little boy. He hovered uncertainly between the woman—his mother, presumably, poor kid—and my desk, before picking up courage. Walking around my desk and briefly disappearing, his tiny body dwarfed by its huge breadth and height, he reappeared moments later climbed up in my office chair. Leaning back in it, he kicked his feet and spun in a circle. Something tugged at my heartstrings—and let me tell you, up until then, I didn’t know I had heartstrings.

“Gannon?” the harpy snapped. “Did you hear me?”

I refocused my attention from the boy onto Cassandra, even as he began to play with my stapler. My automatic instinct was to take it from him, so he didn’t staple his little fingers. Which was bizarre, because … since when did I have automatic instincts when it came to anything except women and business?

Still buying time, I offered Braiden a box of paper clips in exchange for the high-powered electric stapler and liked when he didn’t fuss at all, switching gears seamlessly to playing with the colorful, little metal clips.

“Gannon!” Cassandra finally exploded.

Yes, he was a really nice kid.

But he wasn’t mine. That, I knew for sure. I didn’t know this crazy bitch. “Look, lady,” I informed her coolly and calmly. “I don’t know you.”

“Oh, but you do.” Her snarl transformed into an equally unpleasant smirk, stretching her thin lips into a wide rictus. “You and I went back to my place after drinking too much at that club that night, a little under three years ago. I ended up pregnant, something I didn’t bother you with for nearly three years. Your son is two, just so you know. And I’ve done all of the mothering I care to. I want out. I’m not cut out to be a mother.”

As she spat the words at me, I couldn’t help but marvel at how utterly unattractive she was in every way, way beyond just her witch-like exterior. Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard. I’d heard the expression, but had never actually seen it come to life until just now.

For some reason, the bombshell she’d dropped kept getting replaced with other thoughts. Maybe I was avoiding it. Or maybe I just couldn’t believe I would’ve had anything to do with a shrew. I had a type when I looked for female company—a very, very specific type that was more personality-based than physically-based, honestly. Gorgeous was hot, but fun to spend a long evening with was even better—and she didn’t fit it in the slightest.

“I don’t know you,” I repeated. “And he’s not mine.”

Cassandra didn’t even notice that the kid was reaching for scissors, or if she did, she didn’t care. I cut him off at the pass and handed him a stack of Post-Its instead.

Aggravated, she snarled, “I don’t care if you believe me. I just wanted to let you know you have a kid, and I can’t do this anymore. He’s yours or social services. Choose. Now.”

“Wait. What?” For the second time that day, I was being forced into an instant decision, but this time the stakes were infinitely higher. “Social services?” I echoed in disbelief, grateful that the boy was clueless about what he was hearing as he giggled and decorated himself with sticky papers. “What the hell is wrong with you? He’s your child!”

“And yours,” she retorted. “I’m not mother material. Are you listening to me at all, Gannon Forester? I’m tired of talking. I’ll just take the kid and dump him on social services’ doorstep. I can see you’re not going to be a father to him.” She started toward the boy, who dropped his newfound papers toys and shrank back into his seat. I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through me.

“Hey, wait a minute.” I stepped in front of her and the desk. The words that came out of my mouth didn’t even sound like mine. “Listen, give me time to get a DNA test done. If he’s mine, then I want him.”

Wait—what did I just say?

“One week. You have one week, and that is it, Gannon Forester.” She stalked around me, picked up the boy, whose big eyes were suddenly filled with tears, and left my office in such haste that I had to run to catch up to her.

“I need your phone number and address.” I grabbed a notepad off Janine’s desk and a pen as I hurried after her.

She stopped then and dumped Braiden—that was his name, right?—on top of the desk while she scribbled those things down on the paper. As she scrawled, pressing hard enough to undoubtedly indent the whole notepad, I hesitantly leaned in to check on the toddler. His dark hair did look a lot like mine, but plenty of kids had dark hair. And his wide blue eyes, gleaming with unshed tears, well, they kind of looked like what I saw in the mirror first thing every day, but still … just … not a possibility.

“Hey, buddy.” I smiled at him and handed him a fresh pad of Post-Its, these far more colorful than the ones from my own office. “How are you doing?”

Braiden sniffed and smiled back shyly, his pudgy little hand scrubbing across his eyes in a way that made those newly-discovered heartstrings twang once again.

Shoving the paper and pen back in my hands, Cassandra picked Braiden up like a sack of potatoes. “He can’t talk, you idiot. He’s only two.”

Stifling my anger, I straightened. “I think toddlers can usually talk. Mom just used to say that by the end of the evening, she’d have no ears left from my chatter.”

“Well. He’s stupid,” Cassandra informed me, and it was all I could do to keep from reaching out and wringing her scrawny neck. “I better hear from you by the end of the week, or it’s off to foster car for your son.”

And with that, she left my office with my potential son looking forlornly over her shoulder, one small hand stretched out to me.

The first day of November had a chilly breeze washing over our city of Los Angeles. Wearing a light sweater over my t-shirt and blue jeans, I was ready for autumn to take over for a while, leaving the heat of summer behind us.

My heels clicked along the sidewalk as I made my way to meet my brother, Brad, for lunch at Pitfire, a pizza joint my brother and I loved.

A whistle caught my attention, and I looked around to find Brad getting out of his brand-new Lambo, the fire-engine-red exterior sure to capture everyone’s attention. “Hey, show off.”

His hand ran over the hood of the car as he made his way to me. “You like my newest ride, baby sis?”

“It’s awfully bright. Did you really have to go all out and get fire-engine-red, Brad?” I crossed my arms as I stood there, looking at the high dollar piece of machinery.

My brother had struck it rich when he went to work for Forester Industries right out of college. From there, he jumped off into his own business venture, procuring investments overseas for wealthy people.

Brad came up to me, holding out his arms for a hug, which I gave him. “That’s not fire-engine-red, little sis; it’s called Rosso Mars, and that particular model is an Aventador Coupe.”

“Fancy.” I kissed his whisker-covered cheek. “So, you’re sporting a beard now. How fashionably progressive of you. But it needs more conditioner; it tickles my lips.”

His eyebrows wiggled as he grinned. “That’s what she said.”

I punched him in the arm. “Eww! Nasty!”

“I didn’t mean anything dirty by it, kid.” He looped his arm through mine, leading me into the eatery. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

I rolled my eyes and leaned into him, not about to say I’d missed him while away at college, even though I had.

After being seated in what used to be our usual booth and ordering a blistered cherry tomato pizza and some root beers, my brother and I started catching up. I had been away, staying in the dorms at Berkeley for the last year. With my first year of college behind me, I was excited about my future and the new semester that I was a couple of months into.

Brad had been gone all summer, having to work overseas, and had only been back a couple of weeks. He told me he was eager to talk to me and find out how my schooling was going. “So, how did you like your first year?”.

“I loved it, Brad!” I informed him, over a mouthful of lusciously buttery breadstick. “Mmm. I missed these. I mean, I knew I would love it. But it’s even better than I thought. The teachers, the campus, just … everything is amazing. And the classes. They’re all theory right now, but I’m more convinced than ever that teaching little ones is where I want to be.”

“No surprise there. What were you when you first started babysitting? Three?” The tiny wrinkles that etched the sides of his grin reminded me that he was in his early thirties. That age group of people who had kids, even though he didn’t have a wife and kids yet, himself.

“No, seven. I watched Lainey Bradshaw down the street while her mom took piano lessons in the next room.” Our conversation was briefly interrupted as our drinks arrived.

He gave the waitress a nod as his eyes roamed up and down her body. “Thanks.” He leaned forward, steepling his fingers while resting his elbows on the table, obviously trying to look distinguished. “You doing okay this afternoon,” he looked at her nametag that was strategically pinned just above her left breast, “Meghan?”

Gag me with a spoon. I groaned, kicking him hard under the table.

Her pretty green eyes lit up as she smiled at my brother. “I’m doing fine. You?”

“Pretty damn good.” He winked at her. “Thanks, sweetie.”

With a tiny wave and flushed cheeks, she left us alone as he watched her go. I rolled my eyes.

“Some things never change. So, Brad. Have any of your friends had kids since I left? I’ve missed working with kids who aren’t just textbook studies. And I want to try out some of the things I’ve learned.”

“None of my close friends have kids, kiddo. Sorry.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of car keys. “I have a surprise for you.”

“No way,” I mumbled, staring at his palm without touching the silvery keys. “Brad …”

Brad only had the most badass automobiles. He’d given everyone in the family one of his used ones at one time or another. Brad’s used cars weren’t like normal ones. Bentleys, Mercedes, Beemers—you name the expensive car, he had owned one or more at one time or another, and my big brother had always been generous with his hand-me-downs around his friends.

He jingled the keys playfully. “Say please …”

“Brad,” I repeated, just as our pizza arrived and we had to wait till everything was settled in front of us. When Megan sauntered away, I turned back to my brother. “Tell me you didn’t.”

He placed the keys in my outstretched palm. “You need transportation now that you’re back here. Taxis eat up way too much spare cash. You are now the proud new owner of a gently-used Carpathian Grey, Jaguar F-Type.”

Automatically, my fingers snapped shut around the keys. Even so, I had to protest. I mean, how did it look for a brother, even one as wealthy as mine, to be doling out hundred-thousand-dollar cars to his sister? I was no mooch. “You really shouldn’t have. I mean it, Brad. And I can’t even promise to pay you back, because that would take me 5,000 years on a teacher’s salary.”

He winked. “I’ll figure out some way for you to repay me.” Lifting a dripping cheesy slice, he dug in, grinning around his huge bite.

A little in a daze, I got up and hugged him hard before sitting back down. “You are crazy,” I informed him, reaching for my own slice. “But thank you. Wow. Thank you, thank you, thank you. And don’t even start about insurance and crap. I’ll find a way to pay for it.”

I had no idea how, but I would, I promised myself.

Only three days after having the DNA test done on the little boy, I held the envelope in my hand.

Janine was by my side in my office as I pulled out the sheet of paper that would either change my entire world or leave me free. “Before you read it, tell me what you’re hoping for, Mr. Forester.”

I’d been turning it over in my head ever since the bitch had stalked in and out of my office in less than five minutes, steamrollering my day and leaving my mouth close to hanging with her news.

“That he’s mine.”

It wasn’t that I wanted the responsibility of a kid. Far from it. But Cassandra had been such an obviously awful mother. And Braiden looked like such a nice kid. He deserved better. Way better.

With a nod, Janine placed her hand on my shoulder. “Then I’ll pray that way for you, sir.”

Closing my eyes, I finished pulling the paper out, then I opened it, wanting to surprise myself. “Ninety-nine percent.” I blinked and felt the strangest shifting in my newly-discovered heart. “He’s mine.”

We remained in silence for a long moment as I stared blankly at the page full of cryptic scientific info, with two bolder words standing out above everything:

Probability of Paternity: 99%

“I have a kid,” I whispered.

“Congratulations, daddy.” Janine squeezed my shoulder. “I know it’s not what you expected, but you’ll be a great father, Mr. Forester.”

Father. The fact that the word now applied to me didn’t feel even close to sinking in.

“Janine.” I cleared my throat and sat back. “Get my lawyer on the phone and let him know to proceed with the custody paperwork. I want it today, so I can take it to her when I pick up my … son.”

Son??

“Oh God. I’m a father …”

Janine touched my shoulder once again and started for the door. “I’ll get on that right away.”

After she left, I sat in dumb silence for who knows how long before I took out my cell and made the call.

“Finally,” she answered. “Well? What do you want?”

“I received the results—”

She didn’t bother to let me finish. “He’s your son.”

“Yes, he is.” I had to put my cell down on the desk and press the speaker button. My head was aching and spinning with the news. I was both happy and deathly afraid at the same time.

I don’t know one damn thing about kids.

“Then come get him.”

I’m a father. And she’s his mother! Jesus.

“Cassandra, aren’t you going to miss him at all?” I demanded. “How can you treat a kid that way? Any kid. Much less your own.”

“When will you be here?” she replied without answering. “I’ll have him ready to go.”

Shock had me numb inside. As if on auto-pilot, I moved forward with the horrible conversation, “My lawyer is drawing up papers you’ll need to sign. I want full custody. And I don’t want to wait through court proceedings to get it. Cassandra, you do realize you will never see your son again if you sign the papers, right? I’ll want to make a life for the boy. One without a mother who seems to hate him.”

“Yeah, whatever. Cry me a big old river. So hurry up and get your paper and I’ll sign it. I want to get rid of the burden your unprotected cock put on me.”

BITCH.

“Fine. I’ll be there just as soon as my lawyer tells me the documents are ready. Goodbye.” I ended the call, feeling as if I’d just had a conversation with the devil.

The intercom buzzed. “Brad Moore is here to see you.”

As protective as she was of me, Brad was likely one of the few men Janine would have patched through at this stage.

My head was still reeling as I leaned back in my chair. “Send him in, please.”

When my best friend opened the door to my office, he could tell immediately that something was wrong with me. “What the hell happened to you?”

I just shook my head, numb.

He made his way to my desk, taking the seat across from me. “You look like a Mack truck just ran over your dog or something. You don’t have a dog though, right?” The words weren’t coming to me. How in the hell do you tell someone this kind of news? Bluntly, apparently.

“I’m a father, Brad.”

His blue eyes went wide. His jaw dropped. He jumped up and slammed his palms on the desk, making a loud slapping noise. “The fuck you say!”

Yeah, he took it the way I thought he would.

“I have a two-year-old son. His name is Braiden Michael.” I got up and walked over to the minifridge to grab myself a bottle of something with alcohol in it. Picking out a bottle of beer, I tossed it to Brad then got myself one.

Brad just looked at his without opening it. “You know it’s like nine in the morning, right?”

Twisting the metal top off the bottle, I nodded. “And your point is?” I looked at him with no expression at all on my face.

With a shrug, he opened his bottle and took a swig. “So day-drinking it is, then.” He went back to sit in his chair, looking as if he was as lost in thought as I was. “Who’s the mother?”

“A redhead from a strip club who I don’t remember in the slightest. If DNA hadn’t confirmed the evidence, I wouldn’t believe it.”

“So, what?” he asked, taking a long pull of the cold brew. “She hitting you hard for custody and cash?”

“No, actually.”

I made my way to the sofa. I needed to lie down for a minute. Let my body catch up to my scattered mind. “I’m taking him.”

“What?” Brad spun around in the chair to face me as I plopped down on the overstuffed black leather. “You can’t just take him away from his mother, Gannon!”

Pressing my forehead to the cold beer, I shook my head. “She doesn’t want him. She was going to give the kid away if I didn’t take him.” I looked over at him.

Brad’s face went from stunned to horrified. “She what?”

“She’s a real bitch, Brad. Like the meanest woman I’ve ever met. And somehow, I don’t know how—I don’t know what got into me about three years ago—but I fucked her without using a condom, apparently.” More beer went down my throat as I tried to drown the anxieties that were bubbling up inside of me. “Brad, I need help. Like permanent help, dude.”

“Do you really not remember sleeping with this woman?”

“Not at all.” I jerked my head toward the paper on the desk. “But I had a DNA test done, and the boy is definitely mine.”

Brad walked over to the desk and picked up the paper, staring at it as he spoke. “Well, at least you did the smart thing and had that done, instead of taking this woman’s word for it. So what now?”

I took another chug, “As soon as my lawyer calls to let me know the documents I need are ready, I’ll go get him.” I closed my eyes. “Brad, what am I going to do? I don’t know the first thing about raising a kid. I don’t know how to take care of one. Like what do two-year-olds eat? Drink? Do? Can they bathe themselves? Can they dress themselves? Cause I don’t know how to do that for him.”

“You need a nanny, Gannon.”

“And fast,” I agreed. I put the bottle to my lips but found it was empty. “Fuck!”

Brad reached out, taking the bottle away from me. “Fathers don’t day drink. I don’t think they do, anyway. Not the first day they’re meeting their kid.”

“I met him already,” I informed him. “A few days back. She treated him like a dog toy. He was a really nice little boy, Brad. Quiet. Calm. Friendly. No tantrums or anything. But … he wasn’t my son, then. Oh, and he can’t talk, she says. Can’t two-year-olds, I don’t know, babble or something?”

He shrugged. “No idea, man. None whatsoever. But if you make me a promise, I think I can help you out.”

I cracked an eye and watched as he hauled up a chair and sat down beside me. “Yeah? How?”

“You have to mean what you promise me, Gannon. I’m dead serious about this. Lethally serious.”

“Anything.” I sat up and rubbed the back of my neck. “What do I have to promise?”

His light blond brows scrunched together. “You remember my baby sister?”

I knew of her in passing, even though we’d never met. “Yeah?

“She’s in her second year of college, majoring in early childhood development. She was just asking me about possible jobs she could take to pay bills and practice what she’s learning in theory, since the school won’t let them handle actual small humans yet. She’d jump at the chance to take care of this kid for you.”

My eyes popped. “Brad, that would be fantast—”

“Hold on there, Gannon.” He leaned in close, eyes flashing. “If I do this for you, I don’t want you to so much as lay one finger on Emily.”

I started to protest, and he cut me off. “Because if you do, then I’ll have to reach into your chest.” He pounded his fist on my chest just once. “And I will pull your beating heart out and feast on the fucking thing. You got me, bro?”

“Leave your little sister alone.” That would be more than easy. “Got it!”

“As long as you understand me, repeat these words, and we’ll have us a deal. Oh, and you have to pay her pretty well too. That’s a given, dude.” He thumped my chest once more.

“Chill on that shit, Brad. I can only take so much, bro. Tell me these magic words you want me to say to make you believe that I will never lay a finger on your little sister.”

“I, Gannon Forester, do solemnly swear never to flirt with, fondle, or otherwise sexually harass my best friend’s baby sister, the apple of his eye, and the sweetest and most innocent girl on the planet.”

Who is this chick?

All I could do was nod as I recited his words, sealing our deal and getting me the babysitter I needed. “And can she move in with us too? I’ll need her twenty-four-seven.”

“I’ll check with her, but I’m guessing that’ll be fine. Fewer bills for her to pay.”

I almost sagged with relief. I now had a kid and a babysitter to go with said kid. Things might just turn out okay after all.

Only three days before, I’d told my big brother I was looking for a babysitting job and here he was with a huge one. “So, you’ll be a live-in. It’ll be a full-time job, Brooke. The little boy is two, and his father has no clue what to do with a kid. This whole thing just fell in his lap. You’ll have to go in and take complete charge of the little boy. Is this something you think you can handle?”

Sitting on the bed in my dorm room, I chewed on my lower lip. “What about school?”

“You said most of your classes this semester will be online,” he reminded me. “And living-in will save you money on room and board, since you won’t let me pay for those. He’ll pay you well enough that you’ll graduate debt-free, Brooke.”

“Wow.” I nodded slowly. This was not a gift horse whose mouth I was going to look too deeply into.

The father will hardly ever be there,” he went on. “He’s hardly ever home now. It’ll be you, the kid, some servants, and that’s it most of the time.” He looked back at my absent roomie’s bed and took a seat on it after pulling the blanket up to cover the mess of sheets.

“And which one of your friends is this, Brad?”

One hand stroked his beard as he looked off to one side, trying to look nonchalant. “Gannon Forester, the man who gave me my first job.”

My eyes must’ve been bugging out. Not only was Gannon the worst of the bad boys my older brother hung with, but he was a billionaire to boot. And I knew that meant he got whatever he wanted. “Him?”

Brad just nodded as he cut his eyes to look around the small room. “You’d be able to say goodbye to this little rat hole. That would be a blessing in and of itself.”

I’d never actually met Mr. Forester. But I’d overheard Brad telling stories about how much of a womanizer he was. Could I handle a man like that? “Um, he’s kind of known for being a major ladies’ man, right?”

Brad’s blue eyes leveled on mine. “Not to worry, Brooke. I told the man you are not to be messed with. He made me a solemn vow he’d never do a thing to you. Not so much as one word of flirtation. If he does, you let me know, and I’ll properly beat his ass for it.”

It wasn’t that I was anti-flirtation. I was just … shy. And totally inexperienced. And if I was going to live-in, I needed to know I’d be safe, obviously. “And this poor kid, his mother was just going to turn him over to social services? That’s so terrible.” My heart hurt with the thought.

“Yeah,” Brad got up and went to look in my closet. “Is this all the stuff you have here?”

“That’s it. So, this job would start today, then?” I shoved my feet into my sneakers and leaned over to tie them.

“Yes, it would. I think you should come with me to meet him and his kid before you make the decision.” He turned around to face me. “If you think it’s something you’d like to do, then we can come back for your things. You can even leave them here, and I’ll pay the room and board for the remainder of the semester, in case you ever decide you want to back out.”

I never let my brother pay for anything, but he had a good point for once. And I was definitely struggling to make ends meet. “He’s around your age, right?” I got up off the bed and followed my brother out of my dorm room.

“Yeah, he’s thirty. He’s a decade older than you are. Surely you won’t find him attractive in the least.” He stopped and took me by the arm, looking me in the eyes. “Right?”

“Pish …yeah, right. I’m not into old dudes, Brad.” Call me old-fashioned, but in my twenties, I was still a virgin. My sum total of experience was a few kisses and a little basic groping. I was waiting for the right guy to come along.

About an hour later, we pulled up to the sprawling mansion Mr. Forester lived in.

“Wow, Brad. This is bigger than your place in Malibu.” I couldn’t believe how beautiful the place was. I adored the rustic look. The home looked like a huge log cabin with a covered front porch that spanned only one part of the humongous home. Tall pine trees lined the asphalt drive. The lush green grass was well kept, making the whole place look almost fake.

“Yeah, Gannon likes his little slice of wilderness out here in the sticks.” It wasn’t really the sticks—just the Hollywood Hills.

At the door, we were met by the butler, who introduced himself to me as Ashe.

“Who in this day and age has a butler?” I hissed to Brad as we walked through a dizzying maze of rooms until we came upon one that had cartoon sounds coming out of it.

He just shrugged.

Ashe gave me a smile. “Mr. Gannon is in there with his new son.”

With a nod, he left us to enter the room on our own. My brother pushed the door open. “Here she is, Gannon.”

The back of the man I might soon be working for was all I saw. Dark hair that was kept short and neat gave way as he turned, and the darkest blue eyes looked at me as he got up.

“Brooke, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He came toward me, and a small boy with huge blue eyes and a tearstained face immediately jumped off the couch and scurried over to stand beside him, sliding a pudgy arm around the man’s long legs. It was obvious the poor little guy was bewildered at having lost his mother and gained a stranger for a father all in the same day, so he was terribly anxious.

“Hello, Mr. Forester,” I greeted him, then smiled at the toddler. “Hi there.”

Thumb wedged firmly in his mouth, the boy attempted a small smile around it.

“Please, call me Gannon. And this is my … son, Braiden.”

“Hey there, Braiden.” Brad hunched over and stuck his hand out. “I’m your Uncle Brad. It’s nice to meet you.” My brother took the little boy’s hand and shook it, making the kid giggle before he pulled his hand back.

His giggle was every bit as adorable as he was.

His father chuckled in a way was anything but adorable. Deep and husky, it was sexy as hell.

I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me. I didn’t think this way. I didn’t find older men attractive. So what was happening here?

Sure, Gannon Forester was tall. Like six-foot-three or something. Sure, he had broad shoulders and the rest of his torso tapered elegantly to a waist that wasn’t exactly narrow, but smaller than his wide chest. Long legs, covered in blue jeans that clung to some pretty great looking muscular thighs, made my gulp. The man was a masterpiece in a white t-shirt and faded blue jeans. And bare feet.

Even his feet are gorgeous.

It was then I realized I had looked the man over, all the way down to his naked feet. I quickly snapped back and pointed to the sectional the two had gotten off of. “Should we discuss the arrangement?” Someone had to take over this interview, and it might as well be me.

“Of course,” came the words from Gannon’s chiseled lips. Yes, even his lips looked as if they were cut from marble. His features were sharp, yet soft around his gorgeous eyes. Blue pools that were surrounded by thick, dark, lush lashes. Any girl would die to have those natural lashes. Lashes the little boy had, too, I noticed after another glance. The boy finally disengaged from Gannon’s leg and wandered back over to the couch, where he had a battered children’s book and a sippy cup.

“You and your son are nearly identical,” I found myself saying. “He’ll be a real lady-killer one day.” Then I found Gannon’s eyes on mine. The slightest hint of a sexy smile was on his lips. I realized what’d I just said. Ahhh … crap …

I looked away, feeling shy as Gannon began my interview, “So the job pays whatever you want it to. You’ll have a bedroom that will adjoin the one I’ve had set up for Braiden. It’s right across the hallway from mine.”

My brother interrupted. “A bit close, don’t you think, Gannon?”

Those blue eyes raked across me as they swung to meet the lighter blue eyes of my brother. “It’s for the boy, Brad. I want him to feel safe. After all he’s been through, I want him to feel safe, secure, and loved.”

When my brother scoffed, I felt offended for the man immediately and came to his defense in a heated rush, “Brad! Don’t act that way. It doesn’t matter what he’s done personally, all these years. He’s a father now. He’s just thinking of his little boy.”

“Sorry, sis.” Brad still looked suspicious, even as he apologized. “You’re right. Sorry, Gannon.”

Gannon chuckled lightly. “Wow. A real tigress you’ve got there, Brad. And one I’d love watching over my little boy.” His eyes fell on me once more. “Please tell me you’ll take the job. I’m being totally serious when I say you name the price and I’ll gladly pay it. I have no idea what the going rate is for sitters, but I want you to be the highest paid one in the history of nannies.”

“I have to have Tuesday and Thursday mornings off until eleven,” I told him, in case Brad hadn’t. “I have class for one hour each of those days, and it’ll take me until then to get back out here. Will that be a problem?” I chewed my lip, nervously hoping that would not put me out of this once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity.

“Not at all,” came his quick reply. “I’ll adjust my work schedule to go in a bit later on those days. Any other accommodations I need to know about? Oh, and you’ll have a car to use too. You can take it to school and anywhere else you want to go.”

“I have the car my brother just gave me a few days ago. I don’t need your car. And I don’t need a boatload of money either. Five hundred a week is fair, since you’re also providing room and board.”

Gannon shook his head. “No. No way to only five hundred. I tell you what; how about a thousand a week and you let me pay off any student loans you have and pay for the rest of your college? It’s only fair to you. You’re going to school to learn how to take care of kids after all. I want to help you do that.”

My brother answered for me as he jumped up, “Deal!”

I looked between handsome father, adorable son, and my beaming brother. My senses reeled, and suddenly so were my deliriously happy finances. Things looked very, very good.

After Brad and Brooke left to go get her things, Braiden and I waited for her to return, still watching cartoons. He asked me to read him his book in between episodes, plopping the book in my hand and smiling up at me in a hopeful way that left me weirdly warm and soft.

Is this what being a dad is really like?

Tuckered out by his earlier tears and the total upending of his life, Braiden eventually feel asleep on the sofa, so I let my mind wander to the young lady who’d be living under my roof. From the moment I’d seen her, I’d known things were going to be rough for me.

Why couldn’t she be a female version of Brad?

That is what I’d pictured when he’d said he had a sister who could take this babysitting job, after all.

She had his most basic of features—blonde hair and blue eyes. But that’s where the similarities ended. Her long hair had golden strands that caught the light. The blue in her eyes were like lipid pools of sparkling blue water. Her rosy cheeks were full and plump, just like her strawberry-pink lips.

I knew I shouldn’t allow myself to think about her like that. I knew Brad would have my heart in his meaty fist in no time if I didn’t get this little fetish under control.

She’s your best friend’s baby sister, Gannon Forester. And your son’s babysitter. Stay away from her in all ways, sexually speaking!

So I sat there, staring blankly at the cartoon cat who chased the mouse on the big screen television that usually had some kind of sports game playing, instead of animated characters.

Slowly, Brooke seeped back into my brain. I saw it all in my head; her cute little curvy frame. The top of her head came to my shoulder. I could see myself wrapped around the beautiful girl. Her tits were full d-cups, I was sure. Her hips were round and her ass …oh, my God, her ass!

Braiden mumbled something in his sleep, and I snapped out of it, catching him before he tumbled off the couch. “Easy, buddy,” I murmured, picking him up and starting for the room that I’d designated as his nursery. I’d sent Janine out to get the most basic things, like a little boy’s bed and a few toys, but Brooke would need to help me really decorate it.

As I tucked my son gently under the covers and hesitantly brushed his forehead, Brooke came to mind again. I flipped the night light on and slipped out of the room, leaving the door ajar in case he cried again.

My cock thumping, I walked a few doors down to my own room and sprawled out on the bed, reaching for my engorged cock and freeing it.

I was already fucking up, and I knew it.

I should call Brad and tell him I can’t keep my promise.

But I wasn’t about to actually do that. Braiden needed her. And I could allow myself to have sexual fantasies about the girl, couldn’t I? What would be the harm in that, so long as there was no touching?

My eyes closed as I thought about her sweet lips on mine, and I fell headfirst into a sexual fantasy about the beautiful woman who was about to move into my home with my new son and me.

My fantasy jumped several pages past the start, beginning as though Brooke and I were already tangled in one another, our clothes scattered every which way.

Standing over her, I looked down on her blonde head as she took my hard cock all the way in, bobbing her head up and down eagerly. Her soft moan vibrated over my dick, and I groaned with desire.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, I lifted her up, pinned her to the wall, and caught her lips in a searing kiss as her hips wrapped around me. “You want me, baby?” I whispered, stroking my hands over her smooth, lithe body.

“Please, Gannon …” she moaned as I guided myself home and thrust hard, reaching the deepest parts of her. “Ahhh … baby …” Her moan made me insane, her hot breath tickling my ear.

“You’re tight, honey. So tight,” I groaned, cupping her ass and seating myself even more deeply. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No.” She kissed me hard, her arms wrapping around my neck, gorgeous breasts pressing into my chest. “Fuck me, Gannon. Hard.

So I did, taking her harder and higher until she shuddered and cried out in ecstasy, her head falling back. I bit her throat gently and came hard myself, filling her with my seed.

“Ahhhh, Brooke,” I groaned over and over, holding her tightly to me, my hips jerking with each driving release. “Baby. Yes …”

Her hands moved all through my hair as she tried to catch her breath, just one word on her sweet lips. ‘Fuck.’

Fuck, yes, the sweet little thing would curse, even though I was sure the word would never leave her lips outside our bedroom. She’d be a saint in front of others, saving her naughty sexual side only for me.

I stared up at the ceiling, barely starting down from my high when my cell rang. “Gannon,” I answered the call without looking at who was calling.

“Hi, Mr. For—uh, Gannon.”

I jolted with another spasm of unexpected pleasure at hearing her sweet voice. “Hi, Brooke. Everything all right?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. You sound winded. Is Braiden wearing you out already?”

I grabbed a pillow and muffled a hungry groan in it, desire already rising in me again at how sexy that sweet, innocent voice sounded. “Yeah, he’s a little rascal We were, uh, playing tag.”

“I just wanted to call before I leave town. Do you or Braiden need anything from town? I mean, like does he have milk and pull-ups or diapers or whatever he’s wearing?”

How damn sweet is she?

“Oh, that’s a great idea. I know we have milk. Um, I don’t know about the pull-ups or diapers. His mother just gave me him and nothing else. I did have my personal shopper bring some clothes for him earlier today. Do you know if he has a diaper on?”

She chuckled a little. “Mr. For—Gannon, have you not even looked to see if he has on underwear or a diaper?”

I got up and started cleaning myself up. “No. How do I do that?”

“Just pull the back of his little shorts out a bit and see if he’s got on underwear or a diaper.”

“Oh, yeah. I saw like some white, thick fabric when we were running around. Is that a diaper?”

“Pull-Ups at this age, more likely, but who knows. Okay, I’ll pick up some stuff. I don’t suppose you know if he takes a bottle at night, do you? You know, to help him fall asleep,” she added, before I could ask why.

“He didn’t need one just now to fall asleep,” I remarked. “So maybe he doesn’t use one.”

“Asleep?” she asked, sounding confused. “I thought you guys were just playing. That’s what had you all out of breath, right?”

Shit …

“Yeah. Um, well I told him to go sit and watch cartoons, and he did, and he fell asleep.”

“Huh. I guess it makes sense. The poor little guy’s worn out after everything. I’ll grab some stuff and then head over there. Brad helped me pack my car up ...”

“Okay. See you soon, Brooke.” I ended the call, then beat my head against the wall, glaring down at the rampant evidence of my desire for my new nanny. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”

Then a little voice sobbed just down the hallway and I was forced to pull my act together, pull some clean pants on, and go comfort my small, scared son, patting his back and singing, really not knowing what I was doing, but giving it my best. That was what counted, right? That I was trying?

Unpacking in my new bedroom a couple hours later, I couldn’t help but look out the large windows that overlooked the back part of the vast property. More tall trees spotted the hilly terrain, and I could see it all through the creamy sheer curtains.

A light knock had me turning to see who was at my partially-closed door. And there was my handsome new boss, carrying my adorable new job in his strong arms. He might have been a new father, but he looked like he was meant for the job.

“Come in.”

Gannon put the little boy down, and he briefly clung to his father’s leg before starting to curiously look around my new living space.

I took out the little firetruck I had bought for him when I stopped at the store to pick up the diapers and wipes. “Come here, Braiden.” I smiled and crouched down. “See what I have for you.”

Without an ounce of shyness, he made a B-line for me and the toy I held out to him. I got on my knees to get on his level. He took the toy out of my hand and looked it over, then his eyes went to mine and his tiny arms went around my neck as he hugged me.

I smiled in total surprise and hugged him back. “Hi, sweet boy,” I murmured, kissing his hair and then his plump cheek. “I know you’ve had a really rough day, but we’ll make it better,” I promised him, sitting back and showing him how to push the tiny truck back and forth.

“You’re really great with him,” Gannon said, taking a seat on the floor, but not before I caught his eyes roaming over my body. A pop of warmth burst inside me, along with a nudge of worry.

Uh oh …

Leaving the two to play with Braiden’s new toy, Gannon making vrooming sounds while Braiden, who was oddly not verbal yet, tried to imitate him and mostly blew raspberries, I rose and went back to unpacking my bags. An uneasy feeling was washing over me—one that told me I had to be careful with the charismatic playboy who I now not only worked for but also lived with.

I was sure women who had even less to do with the man had a hard time keeping their heads straight where he was concerned. My work was really cut out for me.

Picking up a handful of panties and bras out of my suitcase, I held them close to my body, discreetly covering them with my hands as I took them to the dresser. Dropping them inside the top drawer, I folded them, making sure to keep them out of sight.

When I turned back around, I found Gannon sitting back, watching Braiden zoom his new toy all over the walls and carpet. “Can you believe his own mother could turn her back on him the way she has?” He had a dazed, kind of sad look on his face that made me want to go over and put my arms around—

Uh, no! Hello? Bad, bad idea! What’s the matter with you? Self-control has always been Brad’s problem, not yours!

I shook my head and returned for more clothes. “No, I can’t believe that. Brad told me about all of it. I just can’t imagine what sort of person does a thing like that. He doesn’t seem like he’s a problem at all. And certainly not a piece of trash to discard so easily.” Picking up several pairs of shorts, I turned to walk back to the dresser, but Gannon’s hand on my arm stopped me.

Oh, the spark that shot through me wasn’t good at all. My eyes were wide as I looked at his large hand, wrapped around my wrist. My eyes traveled up my arm until they found his. His thick lashes fell as he blinked, then I saw those blue eyes once more. “The truth is that haunts me. I don’t understand how anyone could do such a terrible thing. And I’m glad he has you now. I mean, I can try my best to be what he needs as a father, but a kid needs a mom more than anything, I think. I don’t know how I would’ve turned out if I hadn’t had a loving mother.”

But I wasn’t the boy’s mother. I was merely his babysitter. “Mr. Forester …” His eyebrow arched. Oh. Right. “Gannon. While I will do my very best to be what your son needs, please understand that a babysitter is no replacement for a mother. You’ll have to be both mom and dad for the poor little guy.”

He let me go and looked down, the powerful image briefly slipping as the weight of this new burden obviously settled home. “I don’t know if I have that in me, Brooke.”

Putting my clothes down on the bed, I ran my hand through his dark hair, before I could stop myself. I was honestly just trying to convey my compassion for him and his desperate situation, but …

He raised his head, locking eyes with me, and I realized I had to pull myself together for all of our sakes. “Gannon, I’m here to help you get through this hard part. You’ll be great at being a father, just like you’re great at everything else you’ve ever done in your life. My brother has told me all about you. You may have been born wealthy, but you’ve done plenty on your own as well. You should be proud of your accomplishments and sure in your ability to raise your son.”

I was much too close to the man, our faces only inches away from each other. What the hell am I doing?

Taking a step back, I broke our eye contact. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him shaking his head slowly. “Thanks, Brooke. I needed to hear that, badly.”

Gathering my shorts once more, I headed to the dresser, knowing I needed to get some space between us. My body wasn’t acting right. It had some kind of electric current fizzing through it, leaving me giddy.

Turning back around, I found his eyes sparkling at me. There was no more lost, young father in them. Oh, no. Here we go … I had to set things straight right from the start or I’d lose myself to the man. The womanizing man, I had to remind myself.

“You know, Gannon, Brad told me about your success, your driven personality, and your problem with finding help with your new-found son.” I stopped as he leaned back on my bed, resting his muscular body on bent elbows and gazing at me as if I was the most interesting person in the world.

I swallowed hard, watching him sink onto my new bed, and tried not to imagine being beside him. Beneath him …

“Brad also told me about your escapades with numerous women.”

That seemed to get to him, and he sat up, looking appropriately sheepish. “About that. You should know guys kind of exaggerate about matters of that nature. I’m not quite as bad as some make me out to be.”

With a light laugh, I grabbed my clothes and went across the large room to put them away. “I’m sure you’re not. But I’m also sure you’re very adept at seducing the female gender. I’d like to warn you, though. I won’t pull punches. I’m … inexperienced, Gannon. Deliberately so.”

While I hoped he would infer the message in my words—I don’t know what I’m doing, so cool it—the heated look that suddenly filled his eyes suddenly told me my words had had the opposite effect.

“So, you’ve never …” His dark brows raised as he looked directly into my eyes.

“That is none of your business,” I replied as calmly as I could, even though I was the one who had broached the subject in the first place. “Let’s just say we’re both new at certain things.”

“But I’m willing to learn,” he drawled softly, his own implication crystal clear.

Oh, the man is danger wrapped in a gorgeous package.

Done with my unpacking, I took a seat on the floor next to where Braiden was busily pushing the firetruck around. I took a turn, marching it over his head and belly and loving how he doubled over, laughing.

I found my eyes going to Gannon’s once more and decided the best policy would be honesty and bluntness. Surely he’d respect that. “I’m a virgin, Gannon. Try to keep that in mind when you find your flirtatious tongue taking you over, please.”

I saw his cheeks flush. I had no idea what that meant, but at least I’d gotten everything out in the open between us. Now to see if he could pull his bad boy ways in a bit, for the sake of both our sanities.

For the first time since I was a kid, I felt my cheeks heating as I blushed. She actually made me blush!

A deep laugh came out of me as I ducked my head. Then I remembered who the hell I was and stood. “I’m sorry if you saw anything I said as being flirtatious. I certainly didn’t mean to make you think I’m flirting with you.” That was a blatant lie, but she didn’t have to know that. And if she reported anything like that back to her older brother, he’d snatch her away from me in a heartbeat.

I had to exercise my self-control, even if it wasn’t a thing I was used to doing, so it wasn’t easy.

But I would get them.

Now she was the one ducking her head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry if I misread you, sir.”

Not back to sir!

I took the same position she was in, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to my son, and chuckled to let her know I wasn’t trying to be a jerk. “Come on, let’s not go all the way back to calling me sir.” I reached out and pulled Braiden to sit on my lap, hoping like hell that made me seem more approachable and less like a male whore. The way Braiden immediately snuggled into me made me feel a little like a heel for having the hots for his nanny when that was the last thing he needed. What he needed was a father who could keep it in his pants and keep from losing the new woman in both our lives, who was going to be instrumental to helping us figure out the father-son thing.

“This is going to take some getting used to by all of us. We’ve all been thrown into this thing. This very-similar-to-being-a-family thing. And you’re the female in this thing we’re in. The mother-figure.” She shook her head, but I didn’t let that stop me, “Shake your head all you want, Brooke. It won’t change the fact this little boy needs a mother, and that that will be your job for the foreseeable future. At least until he’s in school. And maybe even after that.”

With a sigh, she looked at me. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll get used to it. I guess we all will get used to our new roles. You as a father and the boy as a cherished son, a thing he must’ve never been. Poor baby.” She reached over and touched Braiden’s soft hair where it was nestled into my shoulder. “And me as the female lead in his life.”

“Okay, then.” I felt better about the whole thing. “Are you ready to take over your babysitting duties, Brooke?”

“Sure,” her tone was chipper and her smile bright. “I’ve got this, Gannon. Go do what you need to do. Braiden is in good hands with me.”

Placing Braiden back on the floor, I got up and roughed up his mop of dark hair before kissing him on top of his little head. “I’ll catch you guys later, then.” Heading out of her bedroom, I found myself looking back, finding her and Braiden playing with his truck. My heart did an odd little pitter patter thing, and I sighed inwardly.

When did I get so damn sappy?

After a quick change of clothes, changing into a suit for dinner, I headed out to meet up with August and Nixon for dinner and drinks. It was our usual Friday night thing to do since we’d met in Vegas.

The other two men had already been seated, as I found out when the maître d took me to their table. A small table for four near the back of the seating area is where I found them, snickering about something. “Good evening.” I took a seat as they both looked at me with curious expressions.

It was August who had to ask, “So an hour late. What gives?”

My grin was sly as I saw the waiter making his way to me. After ordering my drink, I let them in on what was happening in my life. A good half-hour and two drinks later, I had them thoroughly mesmerized by how my life had taken such a sharp turn.

Nixon shook his head slowly as he muttered, “That’s fucked up, man.”

“What a bitch,” August added. “I’ve never heard of anyone doing such a horrible thing.” His eyes were filled with compassion. “That poor little kid.”

Taking a sip of the twelve-year-old Scotch, I nodded. “Well, he was a poor kid. He’s finally going to have a good life now. And the woman I found to babysit him is sure to make him happy too.” I placed the glass on the table. “She makes me happy too, unfortunately.”

“And why would that be unfortunate, Gannon?” Nixon asked as he waved at the waiter.

“Because she’s the baby sister of my best friend. And he’s threatened me about doing so much as flirting with the young thing.” I had to close my eyes to conjure her in my mind. “The absolutely gorgeous young thing.”

“Excuse me,” Nixon told the waiter. “Can you get us something to eat. Some finger foods. I’m thinking maybe something with shrimp in it.”

“Oh, and cheese too,” August added. “Something maybe we can dip chips in.”

“I’ll be right back,” the waiter assured us, then made his way toward the kitchen.

Both turned their attention to me once more. August raised one dark brow. “So how young is this girl?”

“Her brother told me she’s twenty.” That earned me critical stares.

“And you’re thirty,” Nixon pointed out. “Ten years older than she is. But my guess is that’s not too much of an age gap to put you off, is it?”

I’d never been attracted to anyone as young as Brooke. The thought of being older by any amount of years than a female conquest hadn’t ever occurred to me. “It’s not her age that matters to me. It’s her brother’s friendship that matters. He and I have been friends since our college days. We roomed together since freshmen year. Our bond is tight.”

August thoughtfully stroked his beard. “So you have known this girl since she was a kid, then.”

“No.” I eagerly eyed the platter the waiter placed in the middle of the table. “Looks great.” I grabbed a chunk of bread and dipped it into a thick white cheese concoction, brimming with tiny shrimp. “I’ve never met any of Brad’s family before. He and I never were those kinds of friends—the kind who go to each other’s family homes.”

Dipping his own bread into the gooey dip, August nodded. “That’s good. It would definitely be weird if you knew her as a little kid and still wanted to bone her.”

Nixon nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Since you just met her, I guess it’s okay. But you still can’t go for her. Not if it would mean losing someone who’s been your friend for such a long time. Find someone to take your mind off the girl.” He jerked his chin toward the table to our right. “There are four nice-looking ladies right there. Take one of them home with you, screw the hell out of her, and see if that doesn’t help you deal with your little problem.”

Looking over at the table of women, who were most likely available, I checked each one out. And nothing. Not even the slightest thump in my cock came.

With a sigh, I admitted defeat, “It’s no use. I’ll just have to get over the fact that she’s going to be around my house all the time and I have to treat her like a kid sister.” Even I knew that wouldn’t be an easy thing to do.

My two friends cracked up.

“What? I can do it. I can!” I protested, admittedly uncertainly.

“Sure you can,” Nixon taunted me.

August wasn’t about to be left out, “It’ll be so easy to turn off that wolf who rules your libido.”

More raucous laughter had me clenching my jaw. I could do it. I’d show them. I’d show everyone. Especially myself.

Brooke Moore was nothing more than a beautiful girl, and I’d known lots of them.

I could change my ways a bit. I could look at her for what she was to me—my kid’s babysitter. That’s all she could be to me.

That and the youngest sister of my best friend. Yeah, there it was. I had it all wrapped up in a neat little box.

In the beginning, though, I thought it might be best to spend as little time with her as possible. Just until I could get my head wrapped around the idea that she wasn’t someone I wanted, sexually speaking.

She was my employee. My son’s nurturing nanny. A person I needed to regard much like I did the women who worked in my office.

One does not shit where they eat, after all—a rule I had practiced my entire life. Brooke was right there at the table. She’d be there all the time. No, I wouldn’t have any trouble at all putting her into the same category I did with all the female interns and admin aids I worked with all the time.

“I should take off soon. This day has kind of taken its toll on me.” Bidding my business partners goodnight, I left to head home and get some much-needed sleep.

And, hopefully, my dreams wouldn’t end up the way my little daytime fantasy had gone.

I was almost thankful when I got home and Braiden woke up suddenly, maybe hearing something in his sleep. I had to spend thirty minutes soothing him back into dreams. Brooke volunteered to do it, but I wanted to spend some time with my son. It served a triple purpose—letting her get some rest, giving me some quality time with my boy, and keeping my fantasies firmly in check.

By the time Braiden drifted off to sleep once more, curled up in my arms on his little bed, there was nothing else in my mind except making him feel safe again after his world had been ripped from him so suddenly.

“I …love you, son,” I whispered as he snored softly, and I knew immediately that it was true, even though we’d barely met. He was my blood, but more importantly, he had become my heart from the moment he smiled shyly at me the first day that Cassandra walked in.

I’d move mountains to keep him happy. And that included keeping my libido firmly in check.