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This evil foreboding I wanted to ignore knew me too well. It was a familiar spirit filled with my guilty acts. I heeded it as a warning that my time with her might be short.
I brought her face up to mine and buried my nose near her neck. I took a deep breath, wanting to remember how she smelled. When I kissed her small forehead, she cooed and grabbed my nose. I wiggled it free.
A lone drop of water fell on her cheek. When I brushed the wetness from Esmé’s face, I promised to be a father who would earn her love, and with Maggie’s help, I knew that promise was possible.
28
Maggie
The rest of the nursery items arrived yesterday with the exception of a few pieces I had to have monogrammed. I might live in New York City, but I was a southern girl at heart, and we slapped our initials on everything that wasn’t nailed down.
From cute little headbands to baby bath towels and diaper bags, I had her first name embroidered on them. Sadly, I didn’t know her middle or last name, so I couldn’t do the full initials and a big E looked odd. I planned on reordering them once I had more information.
J.J. said Lucas’s attorney had filed for her official birth certificate, hoping it would arrive by the end of the week. An odd thought went through my mind. Who had Coco listed as Esmé’s father? I didn’t know the entire story and neither did J.J., but I wondered if another man was on the official document, or maybe no one was on it.
Wednesday’s early morning sun filled the quiet nursery. I’d opened the curtains to let the light in, helping me wake up. Mornings were so not my jam. I glanced down at the sweet baby I rocked in my arms, so innocent in all the grownup drama surrounding her. My heart filled with sadness that her beginning in life was such a tangled web. I rested my head on the back of the luxury rocker—my one big splurge on Monday—and closed my eyes, saying a silent prayer that all things would work out for Esmé’s good. In the end, she was the one who mattered the most.
“Good morning.” A husky voice scratched the air, jolting me back to the moment. I opened my eyes to see Lucas leaning against the nursery door, arms crossed over his chest. How long had he been standing there staring at me?
“And happy butt crack of dawn to you.”
He threw back his head in a laugh. His T-shirt was stretched tight across his chest, biceps defined but not bulging—just how I liked them. Drawstring pajama pants hung low on his hips, and those damn sexy bare feet of his drove me crazy. Put some socks on already.
His even more pronounced morning scruff and hair tousled in all directions added up to one sexy bastard I might prefer over the suited version.
As I gazed at him in all his morning glory, my heartbeat picked up and a warmth spread low in my belly. It was too early in the day to be this needy for him. I hadn’t even had coffee yet, and still, my nipples pinched under the thin fabric of my camisole, which was also white and likely see-through. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.
He moved closer to me and licked his lips when his eyes fell to my breasts. Thoughts of morning sex with him, perhaps in his billionaire shower, made me squirm. I couldn’t be more cliché if I tried. I was his nanny, and he was a desperate father who needed me. It was only human that he would look for me to comfort him. It was how nannies and single fathers became a tired plotline, or, in his case, headline. But to hell with it, I wanted to be there for him more than I’d ever desired anything or anyone in my life.
Was I foolish enough to think I’d have a Pretty Woman ending to our story if we did hook up? That somehow I’d cross over into his rich world?
My mother didn’t raise a fool. I learned to be street smart before I hit this city. Yet nothing in Manhattan had felt right to me until I fell into Herb’s arms and looked up into his nuclear blue eyes. I wasn’t a big believer in love at first sight, but fate put us together that day, then brought us back again.
Lucas placed his hands on the armrests of the rocker, stilling the gentle movement. Then he leaned toward me, bringing his face closer. For the first time, I saw the tiniest flecks of silver in his eyes.
I gulped while little Esmé drank away, blinking her gaze between Lucas and me like we were in a tennis match. Could even a small child feel the connection between us? It was like she was waiting for something to happen—and so was I.
