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“You’re not going to put Georgia on that, are you?”
“Yeah,” he grins as we near the truck. “She’s going to kill it. There’s no stopping this kid. She’s a bit of a daredevil.”
My eyes widen with fear for the little girl, but I only see excitement shining through hers. “That’s my bike,” she tells me as she points to the four-wheeled monstrosity, and I instantly realize I was wrong to doubt it.
She’s not my child, and I have no idea of her limits. I’ve never done this before, so I really shouldn’t have an opinion on the topic. Besides, after seeing how Sean cared for his daughter the other day in the hospital, I’m sure he’s not about to go and put her in harm’s way. Whatever Georgia does today will be done in a controlled environment.
Sean goes to the backseat and gets busy buckling Georgia into her car seat, so I take the leap and pull myself up into his truck, having to reach up and grip the handlebar to haul my ass off the ground.
Crap, there’s no going back now.
The second the door closes, I’m smacked in the face with a smell that makes my insides quiver and my thighs clench, and I realize it’s all him. Georgia sings in the backseat as Sean climbs into the driver’s seat. He spares me a quick smile as if trying to put me at ease, and with that, he starts the truck.
He pulls out of the parking spot and turns to me with curiosity in his deep eyes. “So,” he starts, pulling out into the traffic. “Tell me about yourself, Gigi.”
Chapter 7
SEAN
“Tell me about yourself, Gigi,” I ask as the overwhelming need to know this girl comes over me and starts fucking with my head. She pulled open the door in jeans and a black top that shows just a bit of cleavage, and I nearly fell over.
The woman is fine, like really fucking fine. I know I saw her in the hospital the other night, but she was in her scrubs and I was a fucking mess. This though, it feels different. It’s almost as though I’m only just seeing her now.
Her brunette locks are tied back in a loose braid with little wispy bits framing her face, and it’s fucking beautiful. She has just a touch of lip gloss on her lips, making them look juicy as fuck, and I find myself wanting a taste before quickly dismissing the thought.
Fuck.
My wife is six feet under, and I’m thinking about what it would be like to kiss this woman. What the fuck is wrong with me?
There’s no denying it’s strange though. I’ve never had a reaction like that to any other woman apart from Sara, and to be honest, it scares the shit out of me.
I need to stick to the plan and ignore my traitorous thoughts. This is strictly platonic. I walked her out of the apartment like any gentleman should and went out of my way to avoid helping her up into my truck. It was a dick move, but I don’t want her to get the wrong impression here. We’re just two people spending the day together with the rest of my family. Nothing more to it.
It’ll be fine. We’ll all have a great time. I’ll thank her for everything she did for Georgie and take her home afterward, never to see her again. It’s as simple as that.
“What do you want to know?” Gigi questions before turning around in her seat and giggling at the way Georgie gets the words wrong to Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes.
I find myself gazing at her, taking in the way she watches Georgie with adoration in her green eyes, and I’m completely thrown off before I remember I’m driving a big motherfucking truck and force my stare back to the road.
Shit. What was her question? Right, what do I want to know about her?
Pft . . . everything.
“Umm, you’re a nurse?” I question, making myself look like a complete twat. Of course, she’s a fucking nurse. That’s why we’re all here, dumbass.
“Midwife,” she says with a wide smile, blowing me the fuck away as she meets my lingering gaze.
“How long have you been doing that?”
“Uhh, nursing for a few years, and then I did the extra training to become a midwife and have been doing that for about three years now,” she tells me, clearly letting on that she loves what she does. I can’t blame her. It would be a rewarding job. Though, I don’t doubt it comes with its dark days.
I pull up at a red light and turn to her. “So, you don’t always work in the emergency room then?”
“No, not usually. I was just covering a shift when you were there,” she explains as the light turns green and I creep out into the intersection. “I started in the ER and after being thrown in front of a woman during childbirth, I studied a little more and went into midwifery.”
