‘Bo. So, get back to me on your schedule and we’ll work something out.’ She turned and cocked her head; Bo also heard the car pulling into his driveway. He shot to his feet and pushed a hand into his hair.

‘Uh, that will be Matheo...’

Ollie was also on her feet but, in contrast to him, she looked completely calm. How could she be so calm? His life was taking a one-eighty spin; everyone should be as freaked out as he was. Ollie placed a hand on his bare forearm and her touch calmed his racing heart, allowing him to pull some air into his lungs. ‘I’m here, Bo, and I’m here to help. Just take a couple of deep breaths, okay?’

She made it sound as if he was panicking and he never panicked. He’d sailed catamarans in the Bering Sea, had done the occasional free climb and had base-jumped before. He was the calmest person he knew. He knew how to regulate his breathing, to calm his nerves. He didn’t let emotion affect him. He could, more often than not, be a robot in human form.

But, at this moment, his brain wanted to jump out of his skull and his heart was squeezing through a gap in his ribs. He was taking on a child, another human being. He was going to beresponsiblefor a baby human—from this moment, Matheo’s growth, mental, emotional and physical, would all be on him. He’d never wanted this and at that moment, consumed by terror, he hated Dani for dying and leaving him to raise a child he’d never wanted.

He dropped to his haunches and rested his fingertips on the floor to balance himself. Then he felt a small hand on his shoulder, a gentle ‘you’ve got this’squeeze, and a little air slid into his lungs. He wasn’t alone, he wasn’t doing this by himself. For the next two months or so, he’d have Ollie’s help, her experienced, knowledgeable, studied help. She was his two-month back-up plan, a way to get him up to speed.

This situation was not Matheo’s fault, and neither was it his—it just was what it was. And he could either sit here, imitating a rather wobbly jelly, or he could stand up, square his shoulders, open that door and face the future.

He could do this. Because he had no damn choice.

Bo stood up, walked to the hallway and placed his hand on the door, closing his eyes as he gathered his courage to open it. He was stepping out of his solo world and becoming a family... Man, he was terrified. But courage, as they said, was doing something whether you were scared or not.

He yanked the door open so hard that it bounced back and he had to step away so it didn’t smack him in the face. Catching the frame, he eased the door out of his way and looked at Mrs Daniels with Matheo perched on her hip. His son was awake but Bo could see the streaks of dried tears on his face. And maybe he was projecting here, but in his green eyes he saw all his fear.

Matheo shoved a thumb into his mouth. Bo didn’t pull his eyes off him and ran his knuckle down his smooth cheek. ‘Have you had a rough day, little man?’

Surprising him, Matheo, leaned towards him and Mrs Daniels handed him over. Matheo immediately curled himself into Bo’s chest, resting his head against it. Through his thin shirt, Bo could feel the rhythmic beat of his little heart. Bo covered Matheo’s head with his big hand and, ignoring Mrs Daniels, dropped a kiss in his hair. ‘It’s okay, Mat, you’re home. I’ve got you.’

Matheo looked up at him, blinked once and sent Bo the sweetest smile, revealing one little tooth. And Bo, hard and short-tempered, realised that his heart—that misshapen, mangled organ that’s sole purpose was to pump blood around his body—no longer belonged to him.

CHAPTER FOUR

THESOCIALWORKERarrived with not much more than a few clothes, a couple of nappies and a yellow, ratty dog that Matheo couldn’t seem to live without. On doing a quick inspection of Bo’s house, Ollie realised he didn’t have anything they’d need for the child. They wouldn’t last the night.

What had he been thinking—that Matheo would move in and eat adult food and drink whiskey? Where was the baby going to sleep; what was he going to eat, wear? Ollie understood that acquiring a baby had been a shock but Bo—obviously intelligent—was either clueless, still in shock or maybe a little of both.

To be fair, she wasn’t at her best either. Not only was she dreading the future, but this job would go by super-quickly, and she was also feeling way off-balance. Her new, single boss was the sexual equivalent of an asteroid strike and she felt as if she was a tiny star he’d bumped off course and was now spinning around in space.

She’d never had such an intense reaction to a man before: she was far too sensible and practical to be blown out of her sexual boots. Her ex had been a good choice, a sensible choice and, had he not cheated on her and been so unsympathetic about Becca—she’d been more upset by the second than the first—she’d still be with him. He’d been a reasonable and safe option, someone her family had liked: good-looking enough, with a good job and a good conversationalist. A steady, not too shiny star.

Bo was a meteorite, a shooting star and a black hole—mysterious, foreign, unexplained, interesting and utterly fascinating.

And, as he’d taken care to explain earlier, very off-limits. She had to stop thinking about him as a sexy man she’d like to kiss and get it into her head that he was her boss. And that meant sorting out this rag-tag, thrown-together family.

Because it was her job, Ollie immediately sprang into action. When Matheo—henceforth to be known as the cutest kid in the world and a Bo mini-me—fell asleep in the middle of Bo’s huge California King bed, surrounded by cushions higher than the Great Wall of China, Ollie sat down at the rustic table in Bo’s gourmet kitchen and started making a list.

She looked up as Bo entered the kitchen, having changed into a smarter shirt and pulled a pair of loafers over his sockless feet. He held his car keys in his hand and his hair was brushed. Ollie leaned back in her chair and gave him a long up-and-down look.

‘I’m going to go to work for a few hours—I need to get some things done.’

Nope. Not going to happen.Ollie draped her arm over the back of the chair and shook her head. ‘No, you’re not.’

His deep-green gaze turned cold. ‘I’m sorry, I thought I heard you trying to tell me what to do. In case this arrangement wasn’t clear, I tell you what to do.’

Ollie didn’t have time to deal with his lord of the manor routine right now. ‘So tell me,Mr Sørenson—’ she put extra emphasis on the word ‘—where is Mat going to sleep tonight? In your bed with you? I don’t recommend that. How is he going to eat—off a lap or in a chair? You can’t bathe him with your expensive, top-of-the-range products, he needs toiletries suitable for a baby. You’re running low on nappies and there is no baby formula, so what do you intend to feed him? I’m not going to run out at midnight in a city I don’t know looking for emergency supplies.’

His eyes bounced from her face to the list on the table in front of her. His shoulders slumped. ‘I...eh...didn’t think.’

Well, that much was obvious.

‘What did you think? That he was just going to fall asleep and then wake up when you were done with your work?’ Ollie asked, trying not to roll her eyes. When Bo frowned, she knew she hadn’t been successful in hiding her impatience.

‘Okay, clever clogs, I get your point.’