Page 22 of My Not So Wicked Boss (My Not So Wicked 3)

Miles seemed grateful to have something to do other than stare at me. He headed straight for the great room with floor-to-ceiling windows that gifted us with a pristine view of the nearby mountain peaks. The low-profile furniture around the stone hearth with a fire burning in it added to the peaceful feeling of the room. I also noted how impeccably clean it was. It didn’t look like a three-year-old lived there, or anyone really. Maybe he had a housekeeper as well as a chef.

“I want you to both feel at home here.” Miles looked between Chloe and me before pointing out the window. “You can see the guesthouse from here.”

Chloe and I eagerly joined him at the window with Henry still on my hip. Henry was happy to add his fingerprints to the unspotted windows. I noticed how that made Miles cringe, but he didn’t say anything. I almost told him he should get used to smudges on everything, but I figured he would soon learn it all on his own.

The guesthouse was more like a stone cottage set back behind the large yard that was covered in fallen leaves and accented by large pine trees. It also boasted magnificent windows. I couldn’t wait to see the inside.

“Sophie,” Miles always paused when he said her name, “hired an architect from Scotland to design the guesthouse. She had seen something similar on holiday in the Highlands. I hope it will be adequate.”

Adequate? He should see my cramped apartment with water-stained ceilings. Chloe and I smiled at each other, both thinking the same thing before I responded to Miles. “It’s perfect, as is your home.”

“It doesn’t feel quite like my home. I’m used to living in a flat with views of the city,” he responded wistfully.

I got the feeling he wasn’t planning on making this his permanent residence. Which probably meant I would only be working for him for the year. As dreamy as it sounded to live in London, assuming he would even want me to continue working for him, I wouldn’t put my career over Chloe. Which meant I needed to learn everything I could in the coming months to make my resume shine.

As we walked up the floating staircase, the stairs made me nervous for Henry. They weren’t exactly child friendly. He could easily get stuck between the steps or possibly fall through with little effort on his part.

“We can play with my toys,” Henry informed me on the way up the stairs.

“What do you like to play?” I thought that was a good thing to know.

“Trains and puppets!” he shouted, making his voice echo through the open home.

“Henry,” Miles turned around, “what have I told you about shouting inside?”

Henry buried his head in my chest, unwilling to answer him.

Miles’s eyes filled with regret. “It’s hard for me to work if it’s noisy,” Miles felt the need to explain to me.

I kissed the top of Henry’s head. “We will get our shouts out outside, won’t we?”

Henry nodded his head against me.

Miles gave me a grateful smile before leading the way.

I was beginning to see how unprepared Miles was to raise a child. I could see why his sister thought it was important for him to care about someone else besides himself. I believed men in general were selfish by nature. Not to say they were that way on purpose, but for some reason, it seemed like women naturally were able to see what needed to be done and they intuitively knew how to nurture. For men, in my unfortunate experience, it was something they had to learn, and many of them chose not to. There were exceptions. Sawyer, for one, made Emma’s needs a priority. He could even anticipate her wants and needs before she expressed them. My father was another good example, but Mom said it took years for him to get that way. That’s how I saw Brad. He was becoming less selfish since Elliott was born.

I hoped Miles would allow Henry to change him.

I stopped in my tracks when we got to the nursery. The walls came alive with a scene of dancing trees, perched owls watching over the children, and an enchanted forest in the depths beyond. I even spied a tiny boat full of red-tailed foxes floating down a winding river.

Henry wriggled out of my arms and took Chloe’s hand to show her his collection of books and his wooden train set displayed on a large wood table. He showed Chloe how to push the train and make choo choo noises, and was delighted when Chloe mimicked him. His giggle was intoxicating.

Miles spoke, drawing my attention back to him. He kept his distance with his hands in his pockets. An unspoken uneasiness lingered between us. Maybe he was embarrassed for sharing so much about his family. Or perhaps he regretted telling me that he found me fetching.

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