Me: I’m good. The altitude is helping clear my head. I’ll head back in a week or so.
I hate lying to Sadie, but I can’t keep expecting her to save me. I’m a grown-ass woman who’s going to have my own child to take care of soon. I shouldn’t need rescuing.
Sadie: You sure? I can take a day and drive up. We could hike or just hang out. I miss you.
The offer is tempting because Sadie is good at taking care of people, me especially. But not with Felix here. Not with this whole situation I haven’t fully explained to anyone yet. Besides, I want to figure out how to save myself.
Me: I’m fine. Enjoying the peace and quiet. I’ll call you in a couple days.
I add a heart emoji, but guilt sits heavy in my stomach. What am I supposed to say?Actually, Felix Barlowe is here with an adorable toddler and we’re playing house and I’m kind of falling for him while pregnant with his secret baby?
Yeah, that would go over well.
The doorbell rings, echoing from the front of the house. I glance at the baby monitor on the side table to make sure Ellie’s still sleeping, then head inside. That sweet girl could typically sleep through a punk concert, but I don’t want to chance her nap being interrupted.
Through the front window, I see a delivery truck in the driveway. A guy in a brown uniform is standing on the porch next to three massive boxes.
I open the door. “Can I help you?”
“Delivery for Piper Hart.” He glances at the scanner he’s holding. “I need a signature.”
“I didn’t order anything.”
He shrugs. “Your name’s in the system.”
I lean closer to look at the first box, and my heart does that stupid flutter thing I should be used to by now. There’s a picture on the side of a miniature kitchen set, complete with toy appliances, plastic food, and tiny pots and pans. It’s pink and white and absolutely adorable.
Realization dawns. Felix ordered this for Ellie, and he put it under my name so his wouldn’t be recognized.
“Where do you want them?” the delivery guy asks.
“Um, just inside the door is fine.” I sign his scanner in a daze while he makes quick work of hauling the boxes into the entryway.
“Have a good one,” he says, then heads back to his truck.
Standing here staring at the boxes, I’d bet money this play kitchen costs more than my monthly rent in Kansas City used to. Why does my heart melt at this tangible proof that Felix is thinking about Ellie’s happiness and making her feel at home?
“She loves being in the kitchen.”
I jump about a foot in the air and whirl around to find Felix standing behind me. Praise the Lord for small favors, he’s wearing a shirt. After all, I’m only human. His hair is damp like he dunked his head under the outdoor spigot, and I can’t seem to wipe the image of him swinging that axe from my brain. Right along with a vision of him swinging me over his shoulder and carrying me…
For the love of all that is holy, can I stop fantasizing about my baby daddy for a hot second?
“I thought she’d like one her size,” he continues, moving closer to examine the boxes. “I paid for rush delivery.”
“She’ll love it,” I say, my voice hoarse.
Am I a total idiot with this nanny arrangement? It was supposed to give me a better handle on how Felix might be as a dad, not make me feel things I have no business feeling. Now he’s being thoughtful and sweet and unexpectedly fatherly, and it’s doing dangerous things to my carefully constructed emotional walls.
My awareness of how close he’s standing, his T-shirt clinging to his still-damp chest, and his eyes dropping to my mouth makes the air feel thick. All I want to do right now is step closer, get sweaty with him and ignore the walls between us or knock them down.
“I’m going to shower,” he says after a moment, his voice rougher than normal. “Then I’ll put this together. Shouldn’t take long.”
“Okay.” The word comes out breathy, like I’ve just summited a fourteener.
He holds my gaze for another heartbeat, and the connection I didn’t expect to feel for him crackles between us. Then he heads for the stairs, and I’m left standing in the entryway with three boxes and a heart that’s beating way too fast.
I need something to do with my hands, so I decide to tackle the basket of Ellie’s clean laundry that’s sitting on top of the dryer. I’m folding tiny leggings and miniature T-shirts when the monitor lights up and I hear the soft babbling that means she’s transitioning out of sleep.
