A sweet smile bloomed across his face, and he snapped his laptop shut. “I’d love to join you. What do you say, Evie? Ready to eat some yummy food?”
She dropped her little red bus and bolted to Sam on her hands and knees. One tiny fist on his sleeve and the other on the table, she hauled herself up to standing. As if she wanted to make sure I saw her amazing skill, she waved a hand at me with a smiley, “Da!”
“I see you, sweet pea.” Before I could make a move to fetch her, Sam scooped her up onto his hip and came over. “We have chicken, sweet potatoes, and mixed veg.” I offered Sam a quick smile. “With seasoning and some kind of herb sauce for us.”
Evie settled into her clamp-on chair at the end of the table, and we sat across from each other as we doled out food onto our plates. She immediately fell on her bits and pieces, smooshingthem slightly between her fingers before shoving them into her mouth.
“She’s such an easy-going baby,” he said and shot me another of those sweet smiles.
I swallowed my mouthful of chicken. “Yes, she is. I’m glad. Her usual sitter’s been with us since Evie was born, but I’ve been mostly free over the holidays, so she’s in Montana with her family. I’m glad she took to you so quickly.”
“It’s always a pleasure when my client and I get along.”
We grinned at each other until Evie smacked her hand on the table and sweet potato mush flew onto the floor. I bent down to clean it up with a napkin and took a bit more time than was necessary on my way back to the table.
Was this supposed to feel so domestic and… just plain nice? Samantha, Evie’s regular sitter, usually left before dinner time. When I had to work odd hours, she stayed at our apartment without me there, of course. I cleared my throat to break the silence.
“Evie goes down at around eight depending on her nap times. I’m not too strict with exact bedtimes. Maybe that’s bad?” He was the expert. Ever since Paige left me with a newborn and a hospital bill, I basically made things up as I went along. With a lot of help from Google. I avoided most of the mommy bloggers. Evie didn’t need designer hair bows and dance classes before she could walk.
“No, that’s fine. I’m not a fan of regimented schedules. As long as they get enough sleep and there’s some structure they can count on, kids do fine. In my experience, parents who insist on a specific timeclock that doesn’t coincide with their child’s natural rhythms end up creating more stress for everyone. It doesn’t really matter if they go to bed at eight or eight-thirty in the grand scheme of things.”
The conversation centered on Evie’s habits, interests, and favorite toys and foods. This was all the stuff that new parents would chat about with their other new parent friends, right? With my unusual schedule and all the extra hours I’d been putting in trying to save my struggling business, I hadn’t had time to go to parents’ groups or meet new friends. I wouldn’t know where to start. I fetched a wet cloth to wipe my daughter’s face and hands before setting her back on the rug with her toys.
Sam rose to gather up the empty dishes and stow them back in the basket. “It seems odd not to wash them.” He glanced at the tiny kitchen sink. “I’m not used to vacation cabins. Or vacations at all.” His eyes shot wide when they met mine. “Not that this is a vacation! I usually work in people’s homes and go back to my apartment every night.”
“I know what you mean. It’s a bit odd for me, too. Christopher and Bradley – those are my clients – insisted I stay here on hand to help with any last-minute inspirations or issues. It’s not a huge trial,” I added with a grin. The Halcyon Inn understood comfort and customer service. “Set that on the porch while I let them know it’s available for pickup.” I tapped the right icons on the inn’s app as he eased open the door.
A comfortable quiet punctuated only by Evie’s babbling and thunks from her wooden toys settled over the room. He returned to his spot on the floor with his laptop open, and I grabbed my own to get some work done from the couch.
That odd feeling of domesticity descended on me again. Was this what life was supposed to feel like? People sharing space and doing their own thing peacefully?
The florist price list spreadsheets on the screen couldn’t hold my attention. My mind drifted back to the years before Evie’s arrival shattered my life and reformed it into something completely different. Paige held no interest in marriage. An outdated tradition grounded in the patriarchy. She said it withteasing in her tone, though, and never spoke badly about my business plans. I didn’t need to get married either. We’d been together for four years of relative happiness and another year of dwindling happiness before the birth control failed and everything fell apart.
Paige’s life focused on fun and the freedom to do what she wanted. For a long time, that coincided with my path. We had tons of fun together. Hiking, music festivals, midnight excursions based mostly on her wild whims. Sex. My god, the sex was unbelievable… at first.
When she first suggested inviting someone else to the bedroom, I assumed she meant another woman. When I came home from a client meeting one day and found a slender blond with a flat chest and uncut dick on our couch, something big shifted in my life.
Evie tossed her green car and squealed as it hit Sam’s leg and startled him. Her little feet kicked against the rug, and one yellow sock slipped off.
“Well, little miss, I hear you.” He clicked his mouse a few times before closing the laptop and turning toward her. “It’s about time to get you ready for bed, isn't it?"
I glanced at my clock. Seven-forty-five. “I’ll get her. You’re off duty. Come on sweet pea, bath time.” I eased her up into my arms and headed for the bathroom. By the time she’d gone from splashing and squealing to totally relaxed and ready for sleep, I’d banished any thoughts of life with Paige from my mind.
Chapter 3
Sam
Three days passed, and Gil, Evie, and I fell into a comfortable rhythm. When he wasn’t running around to vendors or meetings with the grooms, he sat on the couch or at the small kitchen island and worked on his laptop. I got plenty of coursework and research done, too, after work duty ended each day.
Evie was a dream. She rarely fussed, and when she did, it was always for a good reason. Gil was a dream, too, and my morning wood turned from just a normal biological reaction to an extension of the fantasies that played through my mind during sleep. People couldn’t help what they dreamed about, right? I could help where my gaze went when we were allhanging out together in the cabin, though. I had to. Staring at my client was not a good thing. Attraction to my most-likely straight client was even worse.
I rolled over in the comfortable bed and reached down to readjust my rock-hard dick tenting my pajama pants. Did I have time to get off before work hours started? A quick glance at my phone ruined those morning plans, and I sat up to stretch and forced my mind in more professional directions. I grabbed my clothes and a towel, snuck into the bathroom, and took a quick shower before emerging the perfect picture of a respectable childcare provider.
Evie squealed when she saw me and tossed a cloth block in my direction.
“Good morning, Evie.” I turned to flash a smile at Gil, whose amber eyes latched onto mine in a way that sent me back to nighttime dreams. “Morning, Gil.”
“Good morning.”
