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“That’s really sweet. Where does the YouTube part come in?”
“I film myself cleaning up the properties and upload the videos to my channel. My followers seem to like watching the before-and-after transformations. It’s also how I find most of the people who need my help.”
She stares at me for a moment, blinking a few times. “So you’re telling me you’re filthy rich and spend your days mowing strangers’ lawns for free?”
I shrug. “Pretty much.”
Chapter 7
Daisy
“Well, this friendship escalated quickly,” Nolan says as he slides his hand into the cup of my bra and pulls out my boob.
It’s time for Jonah’s next feed, and with my hands still wrapped in bandages, I’m pretty much useless when it comes to doing anything myself.
Nolan looks at me, then Jonah, before his attention moves back to my boob that’s currently resting in his palm, and a slow grin spreads across his face. “Don’t make it creepy,” I warn.
“I’m not making it creepy,” he says, with a chuckle completely failing to hide his amusement. “I just want to point out that most people don’t reach this level of trust so soon after meeting someone.”
“Most people don’t get kissed by a stranger, simultaneously attacked by his psycho ex, and then end up needing that same stranger to help them feed their baby because they have a gazillion stitches in their hands.”
“Fair point.” He nods thoughtfully. “Although technically, I’m no longer a stranger. I’ve been promoted to your temporary baby feeding assistant.”
I snort. “That is the weirdest job title I’ve ever heard.”
“I’m adding it to my resume. Professional lawn mower, occasional hero, and now experienced baby assistant.”
I shake my head, trying not to laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe,” he says, smiling down at Jonah as he helps him latch on to my nipple. “But I’m also useful.”
Annoyingly, I can’t argue with that.
I’m currently sitting in the main room of Nolan’s mansion with a couple of pillows stacked on my lap, and Jonah perched on top of them.
I lived in a place like this once. Maybe not as grand, but close.
After a lot of back-and-forth, Nolan convinced me to stay with him. It’s only for a few days, and, as he pointed out, unless I wanted to rely on Puff, I didn’t have much of a choice.
He even left all his details with Mabel. His name, address and phone number. He gave her instructions to give his information to the police if he hasn’t returned me by mid-week. Something deep inside told me that my son and I would be okay under his care, but that extra bit of assurance helped get me over the line.
As soon as Jonah starts suckling, Nolan’s face screws. “Does that hurt?”
“It doesn’t exactly feel good,” I admit. “I’m already dreading the teething stage.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t sound pleasant,” he replies as he continues to stare.
“Can I have some privacy? You’re kind of gawking, and it’s making me feel uncomfortable.”
“It’s a bit late for that,” he deadpans. “I just stuck my hand into your bra and groped your … umm …” He trails off.
“My what, Nolan?”
He clears his throat and turns his face to the side. “Your baby feeding equipment.”
I stare at him. “Equipment?”
“Yeah.”
