Page 25 of Falling for the Single Daddy

“It’s not like that,” I snap, failing to mention that my suspicion was ridiculously piqued when she almost fell down the stairs and earlier when she was twisting her hair around her finger. His paranoia is getting to me. “Anyway, we’ve agreed not to mention it or even acknowledge it. We’re pretending it didn’t happen.”

“You need to be careful. Clearly, you don’t want to listen to me. But she’s only been with you a few days, a week, not even? And already she’s got you obsessing over her.Kissingher. If you were thinking clearly, you’d fire her and find somebody else.”

“Emery loves her,” I say. “I can’t do that.”

“Then you need to draw clear boundaries.”

“Aren’t you listening? We’ve done that.”

“I’m sorry. I know this is none of my business.”

Guilt stabs at me. “When it concerns your niece, Wes, it’s always your business.”

“But your romantic life. Dammit… it’s not like you hound me to LA, comment on every chick I pick up, ask me if I’m going to make it long-term, or make snide remarks when I get involved with artists I’m doing business with. I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“Again. I’m shocked you’d phrase it like that.”

“Just because Sloane is my sister doesn’t mean I agree with her running out on her kid. On you.”

“We were never going to be some picture-perfect couple,” I say uncomfortably.

“But you could’ve been better than what she made you.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I murmur.

“Should’a, could’a,” he says. “Anyway, still on for lunch? I promise not to drill you about your thing with the nanny. There’s no point. I’m not your boss, and I’ve already made my feelings clear.”

“Yeah, and Wes… you don’t have to feel bad. I know you’re just looking out for us. You’re a good friend.” It’s like the past rears up and slaps me across the face. I clear my throat. I’m feeling suddenly sentimental. “And I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“For Sloane—for going behind your back. It was never supposed to be that way.”

“You know you don’t need to apologize for that,” he says. “It’s ancient history. I forgave you the second I laid eyes on my niece. See you later.”

He hangs up, leaving me to stew on his words for the rest of the ride. I know that he means it. Hehasforgiven me, which makes him a better man than many, but it might be something else. I remember something he said to me soon after Sloane gave birth.“She’s my sister, but when she held Emery, I didn’t see any love in her eyes. Sloane’s always been distant. Cold. But I expectedher to open up a little when she saw her daughter. But there was nothing. It was like she was holding a bag of potatoes or something.”

I contrast that with the look on Callie’s face when she’s with Emery. I’ve got to stop doing this, especially since we’ve agreed—without discussing it—to pretend nothing ever happened. But I can’t help it. When Callie looks at my daughter, there’s attentiveness, a readiness to hear one of her silly stories. She looks like shecares.

Shaking my head, I push those thoughts away. She’s the goddamn nanny, nothing more. Yeah, right, like I can believe that. I have to try.

Chapter Twelve

Callie

“Would you like some pickle, madam?” Emery says, sitting cross-legged on the picnic blanket as she peers into the cooler.

We’re in the park, the sun shining, ducks quacking from the pond. If I had to describe this day as anything, it’d be picturesque. The only downside is that, even after brushing my teeth twice and taking a shower, I can still taste Gray. I can still feel his hands on my body. Last night, well… I lost my battle against my attraction to him. I tried, but I couldn’t sleep. Then I slid my hand down my body. I gave in—big time.

“Yes, please, kind waitress.”

Emery beams and begins making my sandwich. “Am I a good picnic coi… what was the word, C-A-L-L-I-E?”

“Coordinator.”

She repeats it with deliberation.“Coordinator.”

“And yes, you are,” I tell her. “The best. You’re doing a great job.”

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