Page 15 of Falling for the Single Daddy

“Daddy, can we go for ice cream?” she asks, laying her head against Callie’s chest.

“That depends…” I smile at Callie, and she returns the smile, her eyes sparkling. This feels a little too couple-like, but we’ve made our position clear on that. “Has Emery been a good girl today?”

Emery looks up at Callie with cute-as-a-button desperation on her face. “So far, Emery’s been the most well-behaved kid I’ve ever nannied for.So far.”

“I’malwaysgood. Aren’t I, Daddy? I haven’t had a tantrum in like a gazillion years.”

I laugh in pure delight. Callie laughs along with me. Again, that we’re-in-this-together feeling grips me. It’s so strong, inappropriate, but all too real.

“Okay, yes, let’s go for ice cream,” I say.

“Can Callie come?”

“That’s up to her.”

Callie grins down at Emery. “How could I say no to you, huh?”

“I’ll just grab a quick shower, wash the work off me, and then we’ll get going.”

Callie looks at me sharply when I mention a shower. But then she quickly turns away. She can’t hide what just passed between us, though. She can’t deny it. Neither can I. It’s like we’re existing in two universes at the same time. All the time. It should be exhausting, but it’s not. I feel more alive than I have in years.

Before I take my shower, I search for two men on the internet. Josh Taylor is the leader of Mindfulness for You—A Commune of Happiness. He’s been investigated several times, but so far, he’s managed to maintain a respectable front for his cult. He’s a hollow-cheeked man with vacant blue eyes. He looks capableof anything. The other man is Jorge Lopez, the stockbroker who employed Callie before me.

I stare at these men, my jaw pulsing, my body flooding with a rage I can’t even understand. I only met Callie a few days ago, but already, the idea of somebody hurting her makes me savage. It makes me want to find them. Break them. Make them scream for ever dreaming of laying a hand on her or injecting an ugly thought into her mind.

My cellphone rings. It’s Wes. “Hey,” I say, answering.

“S’up? Got back from the West Coast early. Was wondering if you and Emery wanted to hang?”

“That’s great news,” I say. Wes is an art dealer and is always flitting between the coasts. “We were about to head out for ice cream, actually, with the new nanny. Callie.”

“Sorry, what’s her name? Your voice went funny.”

Did it? I need to be more careful about that, then. I clear my throat. “Callie. Emery’s really taken to her. She’s a…” Beautiful woman. Sexy as fuck. Funny, smart, humane, vulnerable, passionate, and interesting. A professional young lady.”

“Ah, awesome. Yeah. I’ll meet you at The Scoop?”

“Sounds good.”

I hang up, conscious that I’m going to need to make an extra effort to compose myself. If my voice wentfunnyjust by mentioning her name, controlling my behavior’s going to be one hell of a challenge, especially because Wes can read me better than anyone. We’ve been friends since we were kids. That makes what I did even worse, getting with his sister, having a kid withher—putting a rift between them when he sided with me after she ran out.

With a feeling of impending doom,I step into the shower.

Chapter Eight

Callie

As we drive into town I sit in the passenger seat, my hands in my lap. I don’t know what I was thinking earlier, unloading all that stuff about Jorge Lopez—I hate even thinking his name—and the cult. I didn’t mean to. But there’s this weird thing between Gray and me. It’s like we’re always speaking across two channels. The first is nanny-employer, and the second is… well, all the things I can’t think about.

Emery is bubbly, hopping up and down in her car seat, asking me a million questions. I’m happy to answer her, to match her energy. It means I don’t have to think about what I almost did in the shower, the pressure I experienced for an aching moment, the sizzling sensation in my sex. But whenever I get animated with Emery, I sense Gray watching me. I feel him taking pride and enjoyment in our interactions. It floods me with so much warmth and belonging.

Finally, we reach The Scoop. A man with black hair leans against the exterior. He’s tall and lean and has a passing similarity to Emery.

“Uncle Wes!” Emery calls from the backseat.

As we pull into the parking spot, I’m sure I sense Gray change. It’s like he makes an extra effort to go intoemployer mode. It’s difficult to explain. It’s like the energy between us shifts. Any time I’m around him, I can sense something between us. But right now, if it wasn’t for the gym—and the way he looked when I ranted at him earlier—I might think I was imagining it.

Emery runs over to Wes. Gray walks slightly ahead of me, his posture seeming tight. He’s wearing a casual T-shirt which letsme see that his arms are tense. “Wes, this is Callie, our nanny extraordinaire,” He says. “Callie, this is Wes, Emery’s uncle and my best friend.”

---