Page 47 of Pucking Daddy

I think I just found a plan.

9

ZARA

Marry the Nanny

The kiss, and the phone call right after, have rattled me.

After Jaxon took the call, clearly with his lawyer, he disappeared into his office and later left for whatever he has going on at the rink.

Luckily, the rest of the day blurs into activity, and I barely have time to think.

I pick Lily up from school, take her to the park, help her with homework, make dinner. Jaxon texts around six that he will be late—meetings running over—and I tell him not to worry, I have everything covered.

Which I do. This is what I am good at.

Lily is already in bed by the time Jaxon comes home. I have left a plate of pasta warming in the oven for him, along with a list I made of Lily's schedule for the week.

"You didn't have to do that," he says, finding me in the living room with a book.

"I wanted to." I tuck a bookmark between the pages. "She's a great kid. Makes my job easy."

He lowers himself onto the opposite end of the couch, and I watch him take a breath. Let it out slowly.

“As you know, my lawyer called today,” he says after another steady inhale. “It was about the custody battle.”

“I gathered.”

“She suggested…” He stops, then starts again. “She said it would help if I appeared more settled. Personally.”

I wait, not sure where this is going.

“My ex-wife’s lawyers are going to argue that Lily needs a maternal presence at home.” His hands are clasped between his knees, knuckles white. “They’re not entirely wrong. But saying she’d be better off with her mother is complete bullshit.”

“Anyone who spends five minutes with you two can see the connection you have.”

"The court doesn't spend five minutes with us. They look at schedules and depositions and whatever narrative my ex decides to spin."

His voice goes bitter. "She leaves me. She has an affair, she walks out, she barely wants visitation for the first two years. But now she's engaged to some investment banker, and suddenly she wants to play mother of the year."

My chest aches for him. For Lily. For this whole mess that has nothing to do with what is best for a six-year-old girl and everything to do with adult egos and legal maneuvering.

"What do you need?" I ask quietly.

Jaxon looks at me then. Really looks, the way he did that night at Mickey's bar—like he is trying to figure me out and not quite succeeding.

"I need—" He breaks off, shaking his head. "You’ll say it’s insane and you’ll be right. Forget I said anything."

"Jaxon."

He stands abruptly, pacing to the window. The city sprawls beneath us, all glittering lights and distant traffic. When he turns back, his expression has hardened into something like resolve.

"My lawyer thinks I need to get married."

The words land like stones in still water.

"I'm sorry," I say carefully. "Did you just say—"