“Okay,” I wipe my clammy hands on my skirt, “She’ll be okay for a minute?”
“Yeah,” He replies and turns, heading through to the kitchen. He has the contract laid out on the counter, the changes highlighted in yellow and a silver pen next to it, waiting for me to use.
I quickly read over the change, finding the new clause I requested and pick up the pen, signing my name on the dotted line. Once that’s done, he straightens out the pages and slides them back into the envelope.
“I’ll have a copy sent to you.” His formal tone broaches no room for conversation, so I simply nod, and when the silence stretches to the point my neck prickles, I back up, ready to excuse myself, until he reaches for the drawer in front of him and places a set of keys on the counter.
He points to one of the two keys on the ring, “House key.”
“Right.” I nod.
“Car key.” He points to the other.
“Car key? What for?” I gasp, “I can’t drive your Porsche.”
“The Range Rover parked on the street; it’s mine, but it’s for you.”
My mouth drops open. There was nothing in the contract about a car!
“But why?”
“Do you have a car?” He probes.
“Well, no,” I shake my head, “But I can walk or get a cab.”
“I don’t want my daughter in a cab,” He grumbles, “You’ll drive the car.”
“How do you even know I can drive?” I challenge.
“I asked Savannah.”
“Dean,” I sigh, “I don’t–”
“You’ll drive the car,” He says sternly, “There’ll be appointments to attend, and I don’t expect you to stay in the house every single day. Take the car.”
My fingers curl around the keys, and I drag them toward me.
“Good,” He nods once. “Help yourself to anything, fridge is fully stocked, that cabinet there has drinks and Lily’s formula. The bottle warmer is here,” He points behind me. “Her changing station is upstairs. She’s due for a feed in twenty minutes.”
“And if I need you?” I ask.
“My office is in the basement,” He points to the door just off the main door, “It’s locked, but call my phone, and I’ll come up.”
With nothing left to say, he walks past me and into the living room, where he unbuckles his daughter and brings her up to his chest. I stand back at the door, observing the moment as his long, calloused finger runs down her soft cheek, and she coos happily, trying to get a grip on it but missing.
He chuckles lightly, “Be good, Lily Flower; we don’t want to scare her off just yet.”
Dark eyes meeting mine, I step into the room just as he gets to me, and he hands her over, “Just call if you need anything.”
There’s a moment where his hand touches mine, and the way his skin feels against mine should be criminal. It’s the simplest of touches, no more than a whisper, but my skin prickles and my heart races. If he feels it too, he doesn’t show it and walks off without a backward glance. I hear the door to his basement office open and close, and then there’s nothing but the upbeat music playing from the TV.
“I guess it’s just you and me,” I say to the little girl in my arms. “Are you hungry?”
She gives me a gummy smile just as her fist gets a grip on my hair.
“Ah fu–” I cut myself off. “Fudge!”
For good measure, she gives it a tug, my scalp stinging.
