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“Thanks,” he said quietly, his grin genuine. “I’m getting better at diapers and formula, but the not-sleeping-through-the-night thing is brutal.”
“That was the worst for me too.”
“I wonder how strip club owners manage when they have kids. She’s awake when I’m asleep, and vice versa. Maybe I just don’t have time to sleep until I find her a family.”
“So you’re her knight in shining armor, but you don’t want to be her father? Honestly?” She wasn’t buying it—not the way he was watching the baby like a hawk. He already loved this child.
He frowned. “I’m a disorganized single man who runs a BDSM club and knows nothing about kids. Don’t you think she’d be better off with a real family? Maybe with a mom?”
Despite his words, he didn’t sound at all convinced. Too bad that would make him off-limits as far as she was concerned, but a baby’s future was way more important than her prospective love life.
“I think that if you want to raise her you’ll figure it out. Lots of single parents do it.”
He didn’t answer, but she didn’t expect him to. For a guy who didn’t want to be a father he was trying pretty hard—she had to give him that much. He settles Beau into a playpen in the corner and covered her with a blanket.
“You don’t swaddle her?” she asked.
“I read some articles and I’m not sure it’s good for her arms and legs,” he replied. “There’s so much information out there, and it’s all conflicting. How does anyone know what to do?”
She was impressed that he’d cared enough about what was best for the baby to look up things like that. “You have to go with your instincts, I guess, or with the opinions of people you trust. Is your mom around to ask?”
“No. Grant and I have been on our own since we finished high school. The family doesn’t speak to us.” He sat behind his desk and gestured her to a chair, then got up and cleared the stack of paper off it for her. “Sorry—this kid situation is still taking up most of my gray matter. Back to why you’re here. What do you need from me for the reno?”
“Well, we need to finalize plans before we can move forward with things. When you stopped returning calls we assumed you were getting cold feet.”
“No . . . I’m still interested in whatever you have to offer.” The innuendo was weak, but there, as was the flicker of interest in his eyes, despite the dark circles under them.
“Good about the contract, but as for what happened between us—I think it’ll help my design, but it’s probably best if we don’t do it again.”
“Yeah, I guess we didn’t really have any chemistry.” His smile was full of mischief. “You looked bored. It was incredibly hard on my ego.”
Bored? Ha. That was her last relationship. And the one before that. All
safe guys. Professionals. Suit-and-tie guys . . . not that Will wouldn’t look delicious in a suit.
“Do you want to show me your revised plans?”
“I . . . didn’t bring them,” she admitted. “I saw your truck when I was driving by and thought I should touch base. My brothers are hassling me to reconnect because they want to get started.”
“Oh.” He smiled wryly, scrubbing a hand over the stubble on his chin, which was a few shades blonder than his red hair. “Well, do you want to set a meeting time, then?”
“What’s easiest for you?”
He shrugged. “I’m not here much lately. I don’t like bringing her here, and I haven’t found a good sitter yet. The last woman who applied had some pretty archaic ideas about letting her cry things out, and . . .” He gestured at the sleeping bundle. “Like I’m going to let the kid cry? I wasn’t okay with that even before I read the articles on attachment. Do you know that she might get attachment disorder even though she’s so young? I carry her around all the time now even though I’m shitty at it.”
“Look into getting a sling. It’s good for attachment.”
“I read about those, but I’m having trouble finding one that’s big enough, and I don’t know how to sew.”
“They must sell ones for muscle-bound men. I’ll help you look.”
“Muscle-bound, huh?” He arched a brow and to her horror she found that her gaze had come to rest on a ruler. When she jerked her attention back to him, he had a lazy, dangerous smile. How had he shifted from the baby’s sweet and protective caretaker to this?
“You have to admit you’re . . . big.”
“You wouldn’t really know, would you?”
“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea.” She stopped herself. It was far too easy to slip into this version of crude flirting with him—especially since it seemed to shock him.
