“I’ll go check on her,” Hawk says as I scramble off his lap.
“And I…I’ll um…” I lick my lips as I try to get my brain to function. As I try to recall what it is that brought me to the man’s apartment in the first place. “Music. Yes, I’ll play some music.”
Hawk leaves, giving me time to gather my wits, and a minute later he’s back with a sniffling baby. In those massive arms, she looks like a doll.
We don’t talk as I start playing. “Strangers in the Night” is another classic my grandfather loved, and Wren quiets down the second I start playing. This time, Hawk lays her down in the bassinet next to the couch, and even when she’s fast asleep, I don’t stop playing, shifting from one tune to another in a smooth, practiced move I mastered thanks to my grandfather. Hawk doesn’t ask me to stop. I notice his eyes grow heavy with the music, and a few minutes later, he’s fast asleep.
He doesn’t wake up when I stop playing, so I sit back and allow myself a moment to watch him. My lips are still tingling from the kiss and my body aches for him in more ways than I can make sense of. I’m struck with the thought of how reckless it was to have allowed anything, however small, to happen between us, because now I know there’s no forgetting him.
That kiss…his touch.
With a sigh, I get to my feet and grab the blanket from the arm of the couch and drape it over the man, moving quietly so as not to wake him up. I peek into the bassinet to peer down at Wren’s tiny face for just a moment, and once I’m certain that the two are deep asleep, I quietly let myself out of the apartment.
Chapter Four
Hawk
I wake up feeling more rested than I have all week. Wren is gurgling in her bassinet as the mobile circles overhead, little birds that seem to have kept her occupied while I slept. It seems my daughter is a morning person like her father, and I’ve come to appreciate that there isn’t as much fuss at dawn as there is when the sun goes down.
With another glance at her, I calculate how long it’ll take to grab a shower before she decides she’s ready for breakfast.
Ten minutes.
That’s how much time I get to grab a shower and brush my teeth before she screams for my attention. I change and feed my daughter, then prepare my own coffee. I carry Wren in one arm and my coffee with the other hand as we step onto the balcony for the warm morning sunlight and some fresh air. The view of the lake, however distant, was what sold me on this apartment when I first moved to Chicago.
I just never imagined that I would one day be looking out at this view with my daughter in my arms.
I glance down at my cooing baby, feeling a swarm of emotions choke me—a mix of love, surprise, disbelief, and contentment. I wonder if my father felt the same way when he saw my brother and me for the first time. And if he did, how could he allow us to be raised in the system?
No one is going to take Wren away from me, even if I have to fight to the death to keep her. Even if I have to beg my beautiful neighbor to come over every night and play her violin for Wren. And for…me.
Amelia Belton.
What a pretty name for an extremely beautiful woman. One with lips that taste like the sweetest fruit, warm and succulent. So fucking addictive. I would have taken things further if we hadn’t been interrupted. But it’s not all sexual. There’s something about Amelia that gives me peace in ways I haven’t felt in a long time. She calms the demons in my mind by just…being.
I want that.Her.
A knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts, and I smile when I figure it’s probably Amelia coming to check in. I ought to treat her to breakfast after everything she did last night. Showing my little girl such kindness.
“What do you think about treating our pretty neighbor to some eggs and toast?” I ask Wren before downing what’s left of my coffee. She makes some gurgling noises in response, stretching her tiny arms, which I take as an affirmative answer. I don’t bother putting on a shirt, a part of me anticipating the reaction I got when I showed up at Amelia’s door shirtless. It hadn’t been intentional last night, but this morning, I can’t help wanting to tease her a bit.
I set the empty mug in the crowded sink before walking to the front door, a smile on my face when I open it, but instead of the pretty face of my neighbor, I’m met by the stern face of the caseworker, Kelly Davis.
“Mr. Drayton,” she says in greeting, her eyes moving over my naked torso and tattooed skin. I don’t miss the appreciation that crosses her otherwise professionally distant gaze before she shifts her attention to the baby in my arms.. “I’m here for the routine check-in. You didn’t forget, did you?”
I did.
Fuck, I’ve been so busy and overwhelmed these past couple of days that it completely skipped my mind.
“Uh, yeah, sorry about that. Please come in,” I say, moving aside to let her in. She enters my apartment, her gaze sweeping across the living room. I follow her eyes, suddenly conscious of the scattered toys and at least one article of clothing on every surface. I wince at the way the morning light illuminates every little imperfection, but it’s impossible to keep the place spotless with a baby who hates being put down for more than a few minutes.
The place is clean—as clean as it can be for a man who barely has time to breathe—but more than that, it’s a tad disorganized. A colorful play mat lies in one corner, surrounded by blocks and a few discarded books. I haven’t gotten around to putting them away, seeing as how Wren is still too young for most of the toys anyway. The other corner is filled with boxes I have yet to open, with more stuff the club wives sent over for Wren. The sofa is mostly neat, with a blanket draped over the arm and a stray pacifier sitting on the cushion next to a single sock.
The kitchen is where the nightmare is. I see Kelly glance through the doorway to where a ton of dishes sit in the sink, waiting to be washed. The counter is littered with boxes, jars, bibs, bottles, toys, and more stray pacifiers. She shakes her head, and I read judgment in her expression. I realize that I haven’t actually invited her to sit, and I’m very much still half-naked.
Shit.
Not a great first impression.
