Page 35 of Falling for the Single Daddy

Once Emery leaves, Sloane says, “Shall we have some coffee? Something stronger? ThenMaxwelland I will hit the road.”

Sloane stares at me, one eyebrow raised in a challenge. Clearly, she knows exactly who Jorge is, but I can’t figure out how she would know about our connection or how she could have contacted him so quickly for this date. Jorge agreeing to it isnota mystery. Give him a chance to hurt me for not succumbing to his so-called seductive wiles, and he’ll take it. That part doesn’t confuse me in the least.

***

We sit on the back porch, fires lit in the grates. I drink tea, Gray drinks coffee, and Jorge and Sloane drink wine. I’m not in the mood to even think of him asMaxwellanymore. It’s all too ridiculous.

“So, Gray,” Jorge says, his words slurring as he leans over and looks at Gray with glassy eyes. “How are you findingthisone, huh?” His hands tremble slightly as he points at me. “Is she satisfying all your needs?”

“Excuse me?” Gray snaps. His big, hulking, muscle-bound body tightens. For a terrifying second, I think he’s going to grab Jorge and toss him off the porch.

I stare at Jorge, willing him to shut the hell up. I’ve done my part by not outing him as to who he really is. Maybe, if he was somebody else, I could threaten to tell his wife. But Jorge used to brag about cheating on his wife. She knew about it, always took him back, always forgave him. Escaping that messed-up dynamic made me all the more certain to be loyal if I ever found a man.

“Does shepleaseyou?” Jorge says.

Gray clenches his fists, looking as if he’s ready for extreme action. It’s like the urge to protect me swells inside him. It reminds me of how he looked when we got steamy, his passion so intense, it was almost freaking intimidating.

“Callie’s doing a great job,” Gray growls.

“But what kind ofjob?”

Gray looks at Sloane as if she’s going to tell her date to rein it in, but Sloane is smirking like this is the best show she’s ever witnessed. After a pause, Gray snaps, “Sloane.”

“What?”

“He needs to stop.”

“Has he struck a nerve?” Sloane counters. “Comeon, Gray. Do you think I’m blind? We’ve all seen the little looks between you. It’s obvious. Something’s going on here, isn’t it? You’ve moved a young woman into our home, trying to make her Emery’s new mommy. It’s cold.”

Gray stands up, his hands on his hips, breathing through clenched teeth. I want to go to him, put my hand on his chest, and tell him to calm down. But I can’t, obviously. I just have to sit here, wait, and watch as disaster gets closer and closer.

I’m just the nanny. I try to turn it into a mantra.

“I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation,” Gray snaps. “You walked out, Sloane.”

“You never cared about me. You were always cold. You were always distant.”

“After what you did, you’ve got some goddamn nerve talking like that,” Gray snaps.

“Are you going to say Emery was a mistake again, huh?”

“Ineversaid that,” he growls.

“Gray,” I whisper. “Emery might hear…”

Gray looks at me with sorrow, and I almost feel like I might start crying. It’s devastating, the pain in his eyes, the tightness in his jaw.

“Yeah, listen to thenanny.” Jorge laughs coldly, a sound I remember well. “Listen to Miss Up Her Own Ass, the bitch too prissy to know when she’s got a good thing.”

Gray walks over to Jorge, looming over him, making the size difference obvious. In my life, before leaving the cult, I saw violent exchanges. I learned how to turn off my panic so they wouldn’t tear apart my mind. But that doesn’t mean I want to see them.

“Gray.” I stand up and touch his arm. “That’s enough.”

“What’s your goddamn problem?” Gray growls. “All night, you’ve been looking at Callie like…”

He trails off. A tremor moves through his body like the warning signs of a volcanic eruption. He looks at me, then looks at Sloane. “What thefuck? His name’s not Maxwell. That’s Jorge Lopez. That’s Callie’s ex-boss. I knew I recognized him. What sick game is this, Sloane?”

Chapter Seventeen

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