5. Kevin

KEVIN

“No, Mom, I don’t want you to come back.”

“But you said the interviews today haven’t worked out so far, and I know you really don’t want someone living in your house. You’re much too private a person, Kevin. I’m not even sure why you agreed to interview him.”

“Honestly, he should’ve been the first person I spoke to. He has a nearly perfect rating with the agency.”

Mom sniffed. “No one’s perfect, honey.”

“I said, nearly, but that’s not the most impressive thing about him. In the last seven years, he’s only worked with three families. They’ve all kept him until their kids either didn’t need someone or, in the last family’s case, they moved.”

“Ohhh.” She hummed. “That is impressive.”

“The house, however, is not,” I said, tossing blocks into their container. I’d been so disheartened after Ava scurried out of the house, and I’d felt bad for my daughter, who didn’t understand what was happening, so I’d kind of let her have a free-for-all this afternoon. Now, it was precariously close to time for Chris to arrive, and my house looked like a hurricane hit it.

Mom snorted. “It’ll be a good test. If he doesn’t handle the toy disaster that’s my sweet grandchild better than that first old biddy handled the flour, then he’s not a good fit, anyway.” Mom tutted her tongue. “Really, Kevin. What were you thinking putting Lexi in a frilly dress before baking?”

After the English-nanny-wanna-be left, I’d sent Mom and Margie a picture of Lexi sitting on the counter with everything dusted in flour, including herself, with It Snowed. Both of them had sent back laughing and heart emojis. My daughter really couldn’t do anything wrong in their eyes.

A half-groan chuckle escaped me. “I don’t know. I wanted the house to smell good, and I wanted Lexi to look her adorable best, and the next thing you know, I had winter wonderland chaos.”

She snickered. “Your first mistake was trying to showcase our girl like she’s anything but who she is. Tell me the truth, how long did the dress last?”

I barked out a laugh. My mom knew Lexi too well. “I opened the door to let Ms. Meyer out and turned around to find Lexi’s dress stuck halfway over her head as she spun in circles trying to get it off.”

“That sounds about right. What’s she doing right now? It sounds too quiet.”

After dumping two different bins of blocks out to build a tower, she’d moved on to a chair that hung from the ceiling. She was currently lying across the middle on her belly, spinning in circles and chomping on the Goldfish I’d given her for a snack. “She’s spinning. Mom”—I fell onto the couch—“what am I going to do?”

She sighed. “Well, unfortunately, you have to work. Now that you’re finally acknowledging that you’re not Superman and you can’t do it all, you need to consider your options. You can push the interview this afternoon, or I know you’d prefer Lexi be at home, but daycare is always an option. It might be good, Kev. She’d get a chance to play with other kids.”

I knew she was right, and I planned to put her into preschool next year. In the meantime, until everyone and their dog started strongly suggesting that I get some help, I’d always had this vision of raising Lexi at home until she was school-age. I’d dreamed so much while her surrogate was pregnant with her, and those fantasies always involved me working from home with my baby with me. I guess I hadn’t really understood the realities of a toddler yet, since I’d been a single child and the only other kids I’d ever been around were Margie and George’s. They’d made it look so easy.

“I hear what you’re saying, and I plan on looking into some of the events and activities around the community. Things at the library or maybe a gymnastics class or something.”

“As you should. But you’re not going to be able to do that if you’re exhausted. You need help one way or the other.”

She was right. As it was, by the time Lexi and I sat down for dinner, I was exhausted. Most of the time, I also still had several hours’ worth of work ahead of me once I put her to bed. “You’re right. I guess I should at least have a conversation with this last person. I’m really not sure I want anyone to live with us, but he’s got the experience and references. If he doesn’t seem like a fit, I’ll go ahead and check out some of the other agencies and the nearby childcare centers.”

“Good. Let me know how it goes.”

“I will. Thanks, Mom.”

“Love you. Give our girl kisses for me.”

We hung up, and I threw my phone onto the couch and swung Lexi’s chair up, catching it in the air to put her right in front of me, and I buzzed her cheek. She squealed and tried pushing away. “Daaaddddy.”

Holding the cloth chair with one arm, I tickled her belly. “Grandma said to give you kisses.”

“No, Daddy, no,” she said between giggles.

I got so caught up in our game that the sound of the doorbell shocked me. “Shoot.” I held onto Lexi’s chair as I dropped it slowly back down. “You keep swinging, Lexi. Daddy will be right back.”

Since I wasn’t completely convinced that I’d like anyone enough to let them move into my house, I wasn’t as prepared to interview Chris as I had been the other two candidates. Forcing a smile on my face, I swung the door open, then stared in stunned silence as I took in the man before me. Taller than me, blondish-brown hair, clean shaven unlike the other night, but with those vivid blue eyes I’d been dreaming about since then. Why in the world was CJ at my house?

He double-blinked in confusion, checked his phone, leaned back, and gazed at the house numbers beside the door, then asked, “Mr. Wadsworth?”

“Uh. Um. Yes?” I didn’t mean to make it sound like a question. I did know my own name. But I was having a hard time comprehending CJ—hook-up extraordinaire—standing on my doorstep. How had he found my address? I didn’t think I’d even given him my last name.

A mischievous grin crept onto his gorgeous face. “Well, hello, handsome.”

My eyes widened, and I glanced frantically over my shoulder for my daughter. Not that she’d have any kind of thoughts on someone addressing me that way, but it made me feel oddly vulnerable for her to hear this beautiful man calling me something so…sweet. As I looked back down the hall, I heard her voice from close by. As in underneath me.

“Vroom. Vroom.” Looking down, I watched in horror as my baby girl rammed one of her toy Hess semi-trucks into one of CJ’s brown loafers.

“I’m so?—”

I cut off as he dropped down onto his haunches. “Hello, little lady. Are you playing with trucks?”

She batted her long black eyelashes at him. “Yes.” She backed up the toy, then rammed into him again. “Vroom.”

“Lexi,” I said sternly, needing her attention. I had no idea why he was here, but it wasn’t appropriate for him to be playing with my child, so I needed to get her inside quickly.

She tilted her head up and smiled at me. “Hi, Daddy. We’s paying trucks.”

“I see that, but we don’t talk to strangers, remember,” I said, trying to keep the hysteria I was beginning to feel out of my voice while I bent to pick her up.

CJ’s hand shot out to Lexi. “Your daddy’s right.” He shot me a quick, heated look I had to be misinterpreting. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Chris. Christoper James Armstrong, but everyone calls me CJ. What’s your name?”

This was the guy who was interviewing to be my daughter’s manny? But he owned that huge Victorian farmhouse. Why would part of his salary package be room and board? I didn’t understand what was happening here at all.

Lexi eyed CJ’s offered hand curiously, then turned to me. “I tell him my name’s Lexi, Daddy, or he still a stranger? He told me his name, dough.”

CJ looked up at me from his crouched position. “Yeah, I’m not a stranger, right?” he asked with a sparkle in his eyes. My body heated, reminding me of how intimately acquainted I’d gotten with his body only a little over a week ago.

Feeling flustered, I flapped my hands toward them. “Yes, that’s fine.”

She beamed at me, then stated proudly, “I Lexi Christine Wadswort.” The poor thing still hadn’t quite mastered pronouncing our last name properly. Probably thinking it was as adorable as I did, a small grin appeared on CJ’s face.

Since she wasn’t acquainted with the whole shaking thing, she ignored his outstretched hand, but he picked one of hers up and shook it anyway. “Nice to meet you, Miss Wadswort.”

She giggled. “You silly. It’s Wadswort,” she said again, repeating exactly what he’d said. She really didn’t hear that she said it wrong. “And peoples call me Lexi.”

He tilted his head like he was considering her words. “Oh. People call you Lexi, and they call me CJ. That’s cool.”

She shrugged. “Sure. Do you want ta pay trucks with me, CJ? I has a bunch.”

“I’d love to.” He pointed at me. “If your father says it’s alright.”

She stood and spun so fast that she almost fell backward, but CJ had a hand behind her back, supporting her before she lost her balance. “Can he stay and pay, Daddy?” She clasped her hands together in front of her like she was praying. That gesture was courtesy of Melanie, George and Margie’s youngest. She adored playing with my Lexi, and my daughter idolized the thirteen-year-old girl. Each time we spent time over there, Lexi came home with a new trait that mimicked Mel and made the rest of us laugh.

“He, uh…” I blew out a breath. “Mr. Armstrong and I need to talk first, Lex-Lex.”

Her bottom lip pouted out. Then she started jumping next to my legs. This was her I have an idea move. “You talk in my payroom. Then C…wha’s you name again?”

“CJ,” he said, standing up to his full height, towering over Lexi and making me want to move closer and tilt my head back for a kiss. Good grief. This was a disaster.

“CJ,” she parroted promptly. “We pay trucks, and you talk.”

Jesus. How did my life get so complicated? I’d wanted to see CJ again. I’d regretted leaving without his number before I’d even driven out of the driveway. But not like this, in my house in front of my child.

Desperately, I searched my mind for a reasonable explanation why that wouldn’t work. Mom and George had both warned me that someday I’d regret rarely telling her no. Unless it concerned her safety, I’d never really seen a reason to not go with the flow based on her needs. That left me in a unique situation now, though.

CJ wasn’t a threat, as far as I knew. If he was truly the man that the agency had recommended, then he was probably great with children. Lexi was intrigued with him enough that she wanted him to come in and play with her. Which led me full circle back to why we needed to talk and he needed to leave as soon as possible. The last thing I needed was the man whose cock I’d choked on before he masterfully put said appendage in my ass here in my house hanging out with my daughter. This was a nightmare.

“K. Tanks.” Lexi grabbed CJ’s hand. “Come to my payroom. It’s so fun in tere.”

“Wait, I didn’t say yes.”

Lexi rolled her eyes—another delightful benefit of spending time with Melanie. “You no say no. Come on.” She tugged CJ’s hands.

He didn’t move but studied my face for a moment before dropping onto his butt on my porch right in front of the door. Good God. We hadn’t even made it all the way into the house. This was mortifying.

“Let’s play here, Lexi. I think that would make your dad more comfortable.”

Lexi squinted at him, then shrugged and plopped down on her little butt, too, and she crashed her truck into his thigh with a, “Vroom.”

Grabbing onto the door jamb, I leaned out to check if any of my neighbors were around. Thankfully, the streets were clear of traffic, and no nosey Nellie’s appeared to be peering at my house. When I felt that strange tingle of being watched, I glanced around to find CJ below me, staring up at me.

He winked. Lexi yelled, “CJ, pay!” and his gaze shifted from me to her.

As they chatted and played, I prayed for my sanity. What choice did I have now, but to ask him to come in? We couldn’t exactly hang out in my open front door with the cold blowing in. I’d do a quick interview—even though I had no intention of hiring my hook-up—and then I’d shoo him out the door to never be seen again. Why did that thought hurt?