“Oh, uh…no. He’s just…going through a dry spell and needs some emotional support.”
She nods slowly. “I see. And hey, maybe you can chase some of that adrenaline you’ve been missing lately too? I’m speculating, of course.” Giving me her back, she picks up the jar of baby food from the counter and takes a seat in front of Remy. We’ve just started a few pureed foods with her this week, and so far carrots and sweet potatoes have been the biggest hits.
“Does that bother you?”
“Why would it bother me, Henley? You’re a grown man, and I’m your nanny. This is what you pay me to do, right?” Her eyes lift to mine, followed by one of her eyebrows.
I can sense the irritation in her voice, but I don’t want to engage with it right now.
“Why don’t you let me feed her?” I say, reaching for her hand before she takes the lid off of the glass jar.
Elodie freezes but doesn’t look up at me. “I can do it.”
“I know you can, but I want to. I’ll take the next hour or so, and then you can take over when I need to shower before I leave.”
She doesn’t even put up a fight. “Okay.” Handing me the jar and spoon, she avoids my gaze and heads straight for her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Sighing, I sit down in the chair Elodie just vacated and make eye contact with my daughter. “Your daddy is really good at pissing off women.” Remy lets out a bunch of garbled noises I pretend to understand. “Yeah, I know.” But as I sit there and feed my daughter, this dull ache builds in my chest.
I really don’t want to go out with Warren tonight, but part of me thinks I need to, if for no other reason than to prove to myself that Elodie hasn’t gotten under my skin as badly as I think she has. And maybe getting under another woman will help me confirm that.
After feeding and bathing Remy, I cautiously knock on Elodie’s door. When she answers, I can’t tell if she’s irritated with me. “I need to shower before I head out.”
She reaches for Remy before I can hand her off, sliding her onto her hip. “Okay, no problem. Thanks for the break, by the way.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Elodie. You deserve a break too.”
“I know. You let me have one last week, remember?” I instantly connect that she’s referring to the night she went out with my sister and the conversation that I had with Dilynne about it earlier.
“I do. Speaking of which, my sister said you never texted her back.”
Elodie grows confused, her brows drawing together. She reaches for her phone in her back pocket and swipes to open it up. “Yes, I did.”
“Then why would she say that you didn’t?”
After a few seconds of clicking around, she groans. “I never hit send. Oh God, she’s probably thinking she did something wrong.”
“She was more worried about you after your…panic attack.”
Elodie’s eyes widen. “She told you about that?”
Taking a step closer to her, I tip her chin up so our eyes meet. “Yeah, and you didn’t. If I’d have known, Elodie, I could have been there for you.”
“Would you? You didn’t even ask how my night went. You just jumped down my throat for being out late.”
That hits me square in the chest, but I hold her gaze. “I’m sorry, Elodie. I should have put my pride aside and checked in with you.”
She visibly swallows before replying, “I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to lie to me.”
“I could say the same thing to you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You tell me.”
We stay there in a standoff—chests rising and falling with rapid breaths, her pulse under my fingers that have slipped down her neck, her lips slightly parted and wet from her tongue.
