CEO's Secret Baby: A Single Dad & Nanny Romance Read online

  “Thank God,” I said.

  I hadn’t realized how worried I was until I saw him come in the door. In fact, I would have gone into his arms for a comforting hug if he had invited it at all. As it was, he knelt beside the tub, surely getting the knees of his designer suit soaking wet in the water that David had splashed in trying to get away from me when I put him in the bath.

  “Daddy’s right here,” he said, his hand on David’s head. “It’s gonna be just fine. Remember last time you had a bad fever? What did I teach you all about?”

  “Baseball,” David said with a wan smile. He seemed instantly calmer now that his dad was home. I knew that I felt safer, more secure that everything would be all right. Not just because William was a veteran of his son’s other childhood illnesses, but because William comforted me, just his being there. It was no wonder his son felt calmer in his presence. Something about him was so sure, so confident and strong, that I felt relief and reassurance. A lightness bloomed in me, and I felt the tension in my shoulders and across my forehead relax. My jaw softened where I had not realized I was clenching it. I practically sagged against the sink.

  “Did you give him ibuprofen?”

  “Yes. Five mils.”

  “You did a good job. I’m grateful that you were vigilant, that you took it seriously. I should have warned you that he spikes a high fever pretty easily. Any time he has a virus or a simple ear infection, he hits 102 and the natural reaction to that is total panic on the part of the parent. Or the, you know, caregiver,” he said, turning diffident all of a sudden.

  I nodded, appreciating his praise. Then I draped a towel over David as he stood, dripping and miserable. When I came back, William was holding David, wet and huddled in his towel, teeth chattering, a whine in his voice. He kissed the boy’s wet head and whispered to him, something that made both of them laugh. I leaned in the doorway and did one of those sighs. Those happy, Hallmark movie sighs that the single mom always does when she sees the hero comforting her child and realizes the true meaning of Christmas or some silly bullshit. When she realizes that she’s so happy and content and—in love. I did the sigh, the soft smile, my hand on my chest as if to calm my stupid, joyful heart. Because this wasn’t my family. It wasn’t my little boy, or my husband. I was just mixed up, the closeness and concern I felt for David had become confused with the teenage-style crush I had on his dad. I shook myself out of my holiday TV movie reverie and gave William the medicine bottle while I got pajamas for David.

  By the time we had him in his T-rex jammies, he was crying again. I held him in my lap on the couch while William changed out of his wet clothes. I told David a long and extremely silly story about some dinosaurs trying to decorate a Christmas tree with their short arms and their big tails that got in the way. He giggled and then coughed. I was going to get him some water when William came back with a bottle of bright blue sports drink.

  “Really?” David said, eyes big and voice excited.

  “Yeah, just this once.”

  I helped David manage the big plastic bottle as he guzzled neon blue electrolyte drink. William took it and put it down safely so the blue wouldn’t end up all over everyone and the furniture. He joined us on the couch.

  Good God, the man was barefoot. He had on sweatpants and a black t-shirt. Not a suit and tie. Not even a button down with the sleeves rolled up. This was true loungewear, kept only for at home. I felt color burn my cheeks. It felt intimate, like I was witnessing something private. I was holding his sick child in my lap, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how he was practically undressed. He was barefoot in his own house, and it turned me on. I was ridiculous, I decided, and I finished the story for David. William sat on the couch and listened to the rest of the T-Rex holiday story I made up. It was so stupid that it was a fitting punishment for my swoony Hallmark style feelings. I looked like an idiot, half drenched from the bath, my ponytail drooping, tired and worried about David. Making up dumb things about extinct lizards and fantasizing about my boss. I wasn’t even the girl in a Hallmark movie. I was the pathetic friend who had a hopeless crush she wouldn’t let go of—I was the comic relief, the sad sack buddy who doesn’t get a happy ending.

  “If you need to go,” William began, but he didn’t sound dismissive. I hoped that he would ask me to stay, that David would want me to stay with him. But he had his daddy. They didn’t need me to manage this.

  “I’d like to stay until his fever breaks if you don’t mind,” I said. At least I had the courage to say it. And to make it sound reasonable instead of saying, I would really like to stay and play house, pretend for another hour that this is my family, that I’m not just the hired help.

  “That would be helpful if you’re sure you have no other plans,” he said stiffly.

  “Nope, no plans,” I said.

  “I can handle it on my own. I always have in the past, but it would be—a help to have you here. Listen to me-you’re soaking wet,” he said.

  You have no idea, I wanted to say.

  “Please, go change into some dry clothes. I’ll stay with David,” he said, shifting his son onto his own lap.

  “That’s nice of you, but I don’t have anything to change to.”

  “The housekeeper can put your things in the dryer. You can wear something of mine until they’re dry. Just go up to my closet and get whatever you’d like,” he said.

  Oh God. His closet? I was going to go into his room? Do not kiss his pillow, do not sniff his clothes and daydream. Just get a t-shirt and get out, I told myself. Still, I took a long, deep breath as I went into his bedroom. It smelled of him, of expensive cologne that was a combination of vetiver and old leather and something else that made me think of men in wood paneled libraries, men who had a ‘study’ with a huge mahogany desk and the power in their pen to launch ships or destroy railways. I chewed my lip and went to his closet. I opened the door. It was as big as my kitchen, scratch that, bigger. Everything was organized and backlit and elegant. I slid open one of the built-in drawers and looked for t-shirts. I found them at last, a drawer of plain white, a drawer of plain black, both crewneck and V-neck. I chose a black V-neck and found a pair of drawstring athletic shorts that I was able to tighten enough that my hips would hold them up. I felt like his clothing swallowed me whole, like the soft fabric rubbing against my skin was unexpected and powerful. I liked wearing his clothes. It felt amazing. Just the brush of well-worn cotton across my chest gave me a fierce shot of heady desire. I gathered my wet clothes and took them down to the laundry room and tossed them in the dryer. For some reason, I didn’t want Mrs. Henderson to know I was taking off my clothes at work.

  William and David were on the couch still, and William was holding out his phone so they could both watch. When I got closer, I saw that it was an old Tom and Jerry cartoon. David was transfixed, his head lolling against his dad’s chest as he watched and gave a weak laugh. I reached over the back of the couch and felt David’s forehead. William looked up and met my eyes, shook his head. The medicine hadn’t helped yet. I sat down beside them.

  “How you doing, buddy?” I asked. David dragged his eyes from the cartoon and looked at me.

  “Okay, I guess,” he said.

  “You don’t have to be a cowboy. You can tell me the truth,” I teased.

  “I hurt all over, and I’m sleepy. And now I have to pee—“ he broke off, crying. I nodded and picked him up. I carried him to the bathroom and told him how great it was that he needed to go because he was being brave and staying hydrated by drinking the blue sports drink.

  “I must be sick or Daddy wouldn’t let me drink that stuff. It’s pure sugar,” he said confidentially. I nodded.

  “My mom always said that about soda when I was a kid.”

  “Did it make you hyper?”

  “Probably, and I was already pretty hyper. But mainly it wasn’t the healthiest drink for a growing kid. Like the blue stuff. I mean, nothing in nature is that color.”

  “Sure it is. Bird
s and butterflies and there’s flowers and blueberries that color, too,” he said.

  “Trust me, berries aren’t that color. Berries are normal blue, not radioactive fake dye blue,” I said.

  “I don’t feel like washing my hands,” he said wanly.

  “Nice try. Wash them,” I said. Then I hauled him up onto my hip and packed him back to the couch.

  “Let’s put him in bed.”

  “It’s still light out!” David protested.

  “Not to go to bed for the night,” William said patiently, “Just to rest while your medicine has time to work.”

  “Will you stay with me?”

  “Yeah, of course,” William said, then glanced at me.

  “Me, too,” I said.

  “I thought you would. You said nothing was more important than me,” he said with a satisfied smile.

  “You are an eavesdropper, buddy,” I said, laying him down on the crisp, fresh sheets of his bed.

  “I want my dino,” he said, “and more about the Christmas tree.”

  “I already told you all of it,” I said, a little embarrassed.

  “No, have them hang up some more decorations. It’s funny,” he said.

  “Okay, scoot over,” I said. I sat beside him on the bed.

  William got David’s dino—or rather he held up stuffed dinosaur after stuffed dinosaur until David pronounced the orange triceratops the ‘right one’. With the triceratops nestled under his arm, and looking up at me with wide eyes, he told me he wanted his story. I sighed and got started.

  “The triceratops wanted to hang mistletoe,” I began.

  “What’s his name?” David said.

  “His name is—Tybalt,” I said.

  “After the guy who dies in the beginning of Romeo and Juliet?” William said with a smirk.

  “Hey, I had to come up with a T name off the top of my head.”

  “Tom? Trixie? Ted?”

  “Too boring,” I said, “Now as I was saying, Tybalt needed to hang mistletoe. His cousin Juliet wouldn’t help him because she was too busy making fun of Tybalt’s name, which was a perfectly good name,” I grinned, “but Tybalt was smart, and he asked the Apatosaurus to hang it up high for him. Before you ask, the Apatosaurus was named Capulet.”

  “So you’re sticking with a theme?”

  “Yes. Very much. Although I’ll run out of names. I couldn’t very well name him Mercutio if he was going to help Tybalt with the mistletoe. They were enemies,” I said.

  “What are you guys talking about?” David asked. I laughed.

  “Sorry. Back to the story. Capulet hung the mistletoe, and all the dinosaurs cheered. Then Juliet noticed that their neighbors and enemies, the Montague dinosaurs had hung flashing colored lights all over their—cave,” I said, “And Capulet the Apatosaurus became angry about the display and sent Tybalt the triceratops to go tell them to take it down.”

  “But why?” David asked.

  “Yeah, why?” William echoed, clearly teasing.

  I’d accidentally gotten to into the Shakespearean theme and was losing my audience.

  “Well…” I started.

  Thankfully, William let me off the hook. He took a rhyming book off David’s shelf and passed it to me. I shrugged and read it instead.

  David eventually drifted off to sleep. I slipped off the bed as quietly as I could and went to the door. William brushed his son’s hair back off his forehead and felt it.

  “I think the worst is over,” he whispered, “He seems less restless, and his forehead is cooler. I’m going to get the thermometer.”

  He checked with the ear thermometer and nodded to me, “100.8.”

  I heaved a sigh of relief, not aware of exactly how tense I was, how worried I was, until I heard that his temp was below 101 at last. I nodded and sagged against the doorway.

  He set down the thermometer on the nightstand and came to join me, “It seemed like it took forever for the medicine to kick in. I’m half holding my breath the entire time. Thanks for staying.”

  “You’re welcome. I wanted to stay. I can’t stand the thought of not being here when he wakes up.”

  “He’ll be out for hours. He’s so tired, and the fever really takes it out of him. In a couple of hours when he’s due for more medicine, I’ll get him to drink some more. But he’ll be out at least that long.”

  I nodded, thinking he was pretty clear that there was no reason for me to hang around. I shifted from one foot to the other.

  “I’m so glad he’s a little better,” I said. “I’m glad you came when you did.” Something about admitting that unstuck me, and I threw my arms around him in a hug of relief, of having defeated a common enemy. But his body against mine, his arms around me, however brief, brought uncomfortable need instead of shared relief. I stepped back, feeling awkward.

  “So, um, will you let me know how his temp is in a couple of hours? Just text me. I’ll be sitting by the phone.”

  “Why don’t you just stay the night?” he asked, clearly as surprised by his invitation as I was.

  I nodded. Then he was in the doorway with me, so much bigger and taller up close, and so near that it took my breath. His dark eyes met mine. I wanted to gasp but I couldn’t seem to get any air. The heat and intensity between us crashed against me. I felt color and warmth in my face, felt the sizzle of attraction and the yearning to be held, all of it mixed up with relief over the fever breaking and the fact that I was wearing his clothes. The fact was that I’d been attracted to him for two years, ever since he started coming in the diner. And I was so lonely I couldn’t bear to think about it. Part of me was weak with longing to lean against his chest and wrap my arms around him and just be held for a long time. The rest of me wanted to rip his clothes off. So I looked away from that heated gaze.

  “I should go check the dryer,” I said, making an excuse to get away.

  “Jessica?” he said my name, his voice low. It drew my eyes back to him.

  “Yes?” I said, since yes was the only thing I wanted to say to William.

  “I’m glad you’re staying. For David.”

  “Yeah. For David,” I said, “Of course. I’d do anything for that kid,” I said warmly, trying to ignore the fact that it felt like a barb, the fact that we’d just shared the sexiest gaze in the world, and now I was just the nanny again. We moved into the living room. I sat perched on the edge of the couch not quite sure what to do, how to act. He sat down beside me, not too close. But I could feel the heat of his body near me, felt my skin tingle with his proximity. It was hard to remember my place, that I was a glorified servant with him so close I could nearly taste him.

  “I appreciate it. It isn’t easy, being alone when he’s sick, being the only one checking and worrying and making decisions. It was—a comfort to me, having you here.”

  “I’m sure his last nanny was—”

  “Very capable, yes. But David’s attachment to you has happened so quickly, and you obviously care about him a great deal.”

  “I can’t help it. He’s a great kid. He won me over ages ago in the diner when he used to beat me at tic tac toe.”

  “You’re so good with children. I’m surprised you didn’t choose a profession working with them.”

  “Thanks, but a restaurant has always been my dream. Maybe someday I’ll have it all. Stranger things have happened. I may end up with my restaurant and a husband and four kids and a dog.”

  “Four is a lot.”

  “Four is just right,” I said with a mischievous smile.

  “I’ve got my hands full with just one,” he said ruefully.

  “Well, I hadn’t planned on raising four kids and running the restaurant all on my own.”

  “Nobody plans to do it on their own, Jessica,” he said.

  “Sorry,” I said, “I’m sure it’s very difficult. Nicki, my best friend is pregnant. And my other close friend Tara has kids, and she’s a single mom. She cooks at the diner.”

  “I can’t imagine wha
t it’s like being a single parent without my resources. I have a staff. I can afford a nanny—I even had a night nurse when he was a baby. But it’s still overwhelming, being a single father. And it makes being a single man impossible.”

  William touched my shoulder, moved my hair out of the way. His thumb brushed along my bare neck, and I shivered. “You’re trembling,” he said.

  “Yes,” I said.

  He moved in closer. “If you don’t want this, if you want me to stop, tell me now,” he said roughly.

  “Please,” I said, biting down on my lip, unable even to meet his eyes. I felt his thumb trace the pulse beating wildly in my neck, “Please,” I said again.

  His hand slid up and palmed my head, fingers tangled in my hair as he brought my face to his. I parted my lips in anticipation as his hot mouth slanted over mine. His tongue, God, his tongue was luscious and perfect invading my mouth. I quivered and clutched at the front of his t-shirt as I kissed him back. Never had anyone kissed me so passionately, consumed my whole being with a single kiss, with the stroke of his tongue and the way his lips drew on mine, sucking and nipping until I was crazed with wanting.

  When he pulled away, my lips clung to his, my tongue sliding into his mouth until he dragged me against him, slanted his mouth over mine again and fitted our lips together. A lush, deep kiss followed, left me weak and needy.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away. “This isn’t right. I’m your boss.” I could see how his eyes shuttered, his fists clenched as if he were tormenting himself.

  “No—” I said huskily, “you’re not taking advantage of me. Trust me. I know what I want. And it’s you. Here. Tonight. You can’t make me leave after that. You can’t leave things unfinished. It would be cruel,” I said, trying to joke but realizing I meant it.

  His dark, conflicted eyes slid to me, half disbelief, half longing. William’s sense of honor was torturing him, it was obvious. I admired it, but I also wanted to scream just take me!

  “Are you trying to be Shakespearean? Some prince torn apart by honor?”