Move in? Oh, hell no.
I hold out a hand. “Let’s …let’s back this whole thing up a minute, Mom.”
“What? Why?”
I sigh.
My explanation should come quickly and easily.I’m too attracted to have Megan in my house twenty-four hours a day for a month. She’ll hinder me a hell of a lot more than she’ll help.
But I can’t exactly say that.
“I didn’t realize you’d hired someone,” I lie. “I thought you were bringing people by so we could interview them.”
“Chase Ryan, you know that’s not true.”
“So, what? You just chose someone for me?” I ask as if this shocks me. “You chose a random woman I’ve never met to live in my house and care for my baby girl?”
“She’s fourteen,” Mom says, her no-nonsense tone hard to argue with.
But I do.
“I wouldn’t give a shit if she were five,” I fire back. “Actually, it might be easier if she were a toddler and not a teenager hell-bent on coming up pregnant or dead.”
Mom sighs. “You’re exaggerating.”
“Barely.”
Megan drops her hand from the chair and leans forward. “Excuse me. The teenager part of this I can handle. The rest of it? This is not what I expected.”
“That makes two of us,” I say, lifting a brow.
“What are you saying?” she asks.
I look at her.I want to fuck you senseless is what I’m saying.
“Can we just take a breath?” Mom asks, rolling her eyes. “I know this situation isn’t what any of us expected, but Denise breaking her leg changed things, and I thought we were all in agreement that this was the best solution.”
“I don’t even know her,” I say, gesturing to Megan.
Megan stands, her eyes narrowed. “Are you implying that I’m untrustworthy?”
It’s not you that I don’t trust, sweetheart.
My chest rises and falls with more force than necessary as I watch her hand clench the bend of her hip. Her anger should make me feel embarrassed for my behavior, maybe. Or guilt-ridden for making this whole thing a big deal. I should probably feel like a dick for being one.
The only way her confidence makes me feel is …damn.
“I trusted you—on a backroad at dusk, no less,” she says. “And nowyouhave trust issues? That’s rich.”
I narrow my eyes at her, hoping she’ll back down. She doesn’t. She doesn’t even flinch.
“You trusted me because you needed me,” I say, irritated that she’s making this more complicated than it needs to be. “I can be more discerning. I don’t need you.”
“Yes, you do, Chase,” Mom says with exasperation.
I slide my gaze to hers. “Please let me handle this.”
“I’ll do no such thing.” Mom gets to her feet, the pink sequins on her shirt catching the sunlight and almost blinding me. “Megan is the daughter of one of my very best friends, and I trust her implicitly. I?—”
