Page 8 of A Merry Penthouse Christmas
“What?”
“Nothing! Sorry. I don’t mean to have assumed, but big shot billionaire rich guy, I kind of expected you to be cold with your kid. I’m glad I was wrong.”
“Just busy. When it comes to temperature, you will find I am far more oftenhot.”
Beau’s cheeks darken and he laughs. He is stunning like that.
And I need to stop flirting, or to at least stop enjoying the reaction it causes. Maybe he isn’t as straight as I keep presuming. But even if that’s true, he is still off limits.
“So, um, I didn’t catch this little guy’s name yet,” Beau says.
“Of course. How could I forget? Beau, meet Sebastian Roderick Anders.”
Beau smiles dazzlingly in approval—then snorts. “Wait, Sebastian? Was that your idea or your ex’s?”
“Mine. Why?”
“No reason! It’s just, well… your real name is Ariel. And he’sSebastian.”
Oh god. “The ink’s still wet. Maybe I can have it changed.”
“No!” Beau laughs a little louder when I make to leave the room but quickly hushes himself to keep from waking the baby. “It’s cute! You should keep it.”
I glance at my son again. He really did look and feel like a Sebastian to me. And no one calls me Ariel—if they know what’s good for them. “How about, to avoid that very silly and unintentional hilarity, we call him Bastian?”
“LikeThe NeverEnding Story?” Beau perks up again.
“If you insist. Better than making me the Little Mermaid.”
“Oh no.” Beau snorts again. “You’d be Prince Eric. And hey,Arik!”
I resist saying something like, “And instead of a mermaid you’re my dutiful cabin boy?” The warmth in Beau’s eyes and color in his cheeks makes it tempting.
This arrangement might have disaster written all over it whether he’s straight or not.
A sharper rap on the door draws our attention to the hallway.
“Tick. Tock,” Skylar says pointedly. “Also, really? Give me that tie.” He gestures me to him, and I see that in the hand not holding his tablet is a solid red tie that he had not been holding while waiting in the foyer. It wouldn’t be the first time he rummaged through my closet before we left for the day.
“Do I have spit-up on me already?” I tease, though I immediately begin undoing my striped tie to exchange it for the solid one.
“Might help,” Skylar grumbles. “Here.”
I swap ties, and while I can’t really tell why one is better than the other, I trust Skylar’s opinion, and the solid red does have more power player punch for my meetings today. “Need anything else?” I ask Beau.
“Um… I guess not.”
“Then welcome home. I might be in and out this afternoon, but as far as later in the evening goes, don’t wait up.”
Hopefully, Sandra will help me forget all about my alluring nanny.
Chapter 3
BEAU
Thepiercingcryoflittle Bastian rouses me immediately. There is something particularly shrill about the cry of a newborn. All part of evolution to get us moving quickly, but damn does it hurt the eardrums. It does its job though, and I roll out of bed to dart past the bathroom into the nursery.
This is the third time Bastian has woken me tonight, but at least third time’s the charm—meaning a glance at the clock tells me it is morning now and even an almost normal hour to start the day. Having a live-in nanny is the smart play for a new parent who can afford it, because you get all the cute bits, and the help gets the insomnia and gross-out parts. I don’t mind. I was always planning to go through this. It’s good practice.
