23. Lila

23

LILA

I t was easy to tell myself I was fine with the distance I'd been feeling from Felipe and Miles in the past few days when I was at Aaron Pierce's penthouse, fully focused on nannying the two kids in my care. It wasn't quite as easy to believe it, but I was getting there.

Felipe hadn't been ignoring me completely, at least, but our texting had majorly slowed down since the confrontation at the Kramer house. He'd told me that he needed a little space, some time to think this through, and I was happy to give him that. Well, not happy, but I certainly understood it. If the tables were turned and Felipe had slept with someone else mere days after he'd seemingly given himself fully to me, I was sure my own feelings would be complicated, too. Still, it was hard not to spiral about the prospect of losing him. Our romance was just getting started, and no part of me was ready to give up on it yet.

Miles, on the other hand, had been working at his lab pretty much nonstop. That wasn't completely unusual for him, but considering I hadn't seen him even once since the kiss we'd shared in the hallway outside his daughter's bedroom, it wasn't a huge leap for me to assume he was trying to avoid me.

Aaron, at least, wasn't avoiding me on purpose. He was busy with his work, as always, so I'd hardly seen him either since our very hot office sex, but our dynamic had gone back to normal, the two of us speaking briefly and mainly just to coordinate things with the kids. It was like all those orgasms had never even happened, though my body still reacted to seeing him, the traitor. There was perhaps an extra layer of cordiality to our interactions, even, since Aaron was now aware that I wouldn't take any disrespect lying down.

I would, however, take the sexy brand of disrespect bent over on his fancy executive desk. Any day of the week.

Tonight, though, I was occupied with purely child-friendly fun. Olivia was enjoying Aaron's penthouse more than I'd expected her to, since she had less access to her princess castle, and Jamie had been a happy little guy all day. Now, the evening was winding down, and I was getting both of them ready to start their nighttime routines. Olivia and I were picking out a book to read when Aaron's keys jiggled the doorknob and he came waltzing in like… well, like he owned the place. Because he literally did.

It wasn't a surprise, really. I'd known he was supposed to be home at some point tonight, since he lived here and all. But it was a little out of the ordinary for him to be home as early as he was. I'd half expected him to sneak inside in the dead of night, when the kids were long asleep and I was struggling to do the same in his guest room.

"Evening," Aaron's low voice greeted me when he'd put down his keys and come all the way into the house. Olivia, Jamie, and I were still in the living room for now, since I'd read it was best for the kids' sleep cycles to keep their sleep space and play space separate.

"Hey," I said. "Have a nice day?" I asked him in my best attempt at a nonchalant tone.

"Long day," he answered brusquely. I watched him roll up his sleeves out of the corner of my eye while I was ostensibly shuffling through my stash of picture books with Olivia. "Better now, though. How are these little guys?"

I almost snapped my neck from turning my head to look at him so quickly. He raised an eyebrow at me when I stared at him, but he continued, "Did you have a good day, Olivia?"

When I first met Miles Kramer's daughter, she'd seemed shy with people who weren't Mrs. Nguyen. But in the time I'd been nannying her, I'd noticed a big change that I only partially thought was because of me. It was mostly the fact that she was reconnecting with her father. In any case, Olivia looked at Aaron with a quizzical expression and answered, "We played princess and watched Elsa."

He grinned at her. "Sounds like a good day to me. Were you nice to Nanny Lila?"

"Yeah," Olivia said, puffing up her little chest. "I love Lila."

"Aw! I love you, too, nugget," I said to the little girl. The cuteness of that cracked my heart down the middle and mended it all at once. Unable to resist, I reached over to pull Olivia against me in a tight hug, making her laugh when I peppered kisses over her face, too. Aaron watched this with something soft and fond in his eyes that I'd never seen before, and then he leaned into Jamie's playpen to pick up his nephew.

"Hi there, little man," he said softly to the baby. "Did you have a good day, too? You staying up late with the big kids tonight?"

"He took his nap a little later in the afternoon than usual," I explained, suddenly worried this was some veiled criticism of me. "But we're getting ready for bed now."

"No worries," Aaron said, and before that point, I wouldn't have thought such a phrase existed in his vocabulary.

I watched, awestruck, as Aaron tickled Jamie's tummy, eliciting effusive giggles that could have melted anyone's heart. He seemed to be in such a good mood that his entire personality had changed—no more grumpy, all-business Aaron, or outright-mean Aaron, or domineering but sexy Aaron. Instead, he suddenly showed himself as a caring uncle, a calming presence, and a good man.

Aaron even helped me get the kids in bed, offering to bring Olivia her now-customary glass of water (in a no-spill sippy cup, no less) and snuggling Jamie before he laid him down in his crib. When the two of us deemed the kids appropriately tucked in, we automatically headed back to the living room.

"I think the little guy's already grown," Aaron mused aloud, moving to sit on the sofa—or rather, to spread out with a casual air that made him look oddly approachable. Hesitant, but determined not to be afraid of a man I'd been able to completely let go with in a sexual context, I came to sit beside him, leaving a full cushion of space between us.

"Definitely," I said. "When they're babies, they grow so fast. It's cool to watch. One of my favorite things about working with the littles."

"You're fantastic with them," Aaron told me sincerely. "Really, it's amazing to watch. Both of those kids think you hung the goddamn moon, and I'm half convinced they're right."

I blushed through his compliments and murmured my thanks.

Aaron, it seemed, was in a warmer, more talkative mood than I'd ever seen from him. He mused, "I'm glad Jamie's thriving, but I worry about him. His mom, too." He turned his body toward me, a physical opening up that signified he was going to speak freely. "Have I told you about my little sister?"

"No," I answered. "Nothing."

"Well, it's not the most pleasant of topics," he explained with a grimace. "Whitney is… erratic. We grew up in a pretty rough home, nothing like what these kids are getting. Dirt poor, no dad, a mom who was an addict. The usual sob story. And Whitney… well, she had a harder time than me, I guess, because she's turned out just like you'd think. Terrible taste in men, no real direction, and an addict, too. Been in and out of rehab a few times when I practically forced her to do it, but nothing's ever stuck."

I'd suspected something like this had led to Jamie's being foisted upon his uncle with no time to make childcare arrangements. But hearing it confirmed was different, more devastating. "Is she… having a rough time?" I asked, unsure how to broach the delicate topic.

"I don't know, to be honest. She hasn't spoken to me since she left Jamie with me at my office. I've tried reaching out, but nothing." He shook his head, running a hand over his short beard. "I hate that she's not fit to take care of him herself, because some nights when I've been with him, I've heard him sort of… call out to her. ‘Mama, mama,' that sort of thing. He misses her."

Oh, gosh. The thought of the baby I'd grown so attached to suffering that way could have shattered my heart into a million little pieces. And I could see, now, that Aaron's heart was just as easy to break when it came to his family. Despite his sister's flaws, it was clear that Aaron loved her, and any resentment or disappointment he felt for her was rooted in that love.

"I'm sure she misses him, too, deep down," I said. If she cared enough about her child to leave him with Aaron, the person in this world who was most equipped to spoil the kid monetarily, there must be some part of her who still thought of him while they were apart.

"Yeah. Anyway, her silence is… unusual. Got me worried sick. I've been thinking of hiring a PI to track her down, but that'd probably just make her pissed off at me again for getting in her business, damn it."

"It might be worth it, though. If she's in danger, wouldn't you rather know?" I asked the question genuinely, and Aaron gave a shrug as if to say, You have a point. "Family can be complicated for a lot of people, but one thing that's true for most all of them, dysfunctional or not, is that they have to look out for each other. That's all you're trying to do for Whitney. If she loves you half as much as you clearly love her, she'll understand someday."

Aaron looked at me with soft gratitude written across his strong features. We basked in this moment of common ground for a second, and then he broke the silence to ask, "Would you like a drink?"

Aaron had an impressive wine collection, and he skillfully opened a bottle of red for us, clinking his glass against mine in a silent toast when he came back to the sofa. Soon, the conversation flowed so easily that I shared some details of my own family, too, while Aaron listened with something like fascination in his dark eyes.

"I'm the youngest of five siblings, so I definitely get how those relationships can be… complicated," I told him as I sipped the wine that probably cost more than my college tuition. "But I'm close with my brothers and sisters, even though they treat me like a baby more often than I'd like. I'm really close with my parents, too. Well, emotionally. They're back in Indiana, but I call them all the time."

"I knew you were a Midwest girl," Aaron said through a flirtatious grin. Next thing I knew, we were talking about the dreams I'd come to New York to pursue—the writing career I hoped to eke out for myself someday. I'd never thought before how this was yet more common ground between the two of us. Aaron had worked very hard to achieve his own goals, and now he was reaping the rewards of success. It was inspiring to see.

"You know, publishing isn't my industry, but I've developed some good connections throughout the years," Aaron told me, his voice low. "I could probably pull some strings for you. Money talks in this town—hell, in every town."

I shook my head. "That's very generous of you, but no thanks. I really want to make it on my own, you know? Besides, right now I'm in between a bunch of manuscripts, but none of them are really ready to publish. I'm excited about one of them, but it's so hard to find time to really dedicate myself to writing."

Our conversation kept flowing, and so did the wine. He asked thoughtful questions about my writing projects, and I told him about the series I hoped to write following a young girl's adventures through New York City.

"I love the idea of having one of those long-running chapter book series where kids can get exposure to some difficult topics through this character they've learned to love," I explained as I finished my second glass of wine, the warmth of it loosening my tongue. "Things real-life kids have to deal with, you know? I think books are such a good place for them to work through stuff that can be hard to understand."

Aaron nodded thoughtfully, meeting my eyes over his glass as he downed the last drops of his, too. I wasn't usually much of a drinker, but I was enjoying the comfortable camaraderie too much to pass up his offer of another glass. He poured one for me and a slightly deeper glass for himself, and then he spoke again. "I think that sounds like a fantastic idea for a book series, and I have no doubt that you'll find a lot of success with it. You've got a special air about you. It's part of why the kids adore you. And apparently, every man you meet, too."

I flushed nearly as scarlet as the wine. Where had all of this charm come from all of a sudden? Was it just the seemingly good mood he'd been in when he first walked through the door, or was wine the key to opening him up?

Either way, I wanted more of it. Throughout our winding conversation about our families and dreams and lives, Aaron and I had moved ever closer to one another on the sofa, until the cushion of space I'd allowed as a buffer was now reduced to an inch or two. It was so easy, then, to lean in when Aaron looked as though we wanted to kiss me, to meet his lips with my own in a relieved sigh.

This was so much sweeter than that day in his office. No urgency, no anger bolstering the passion. No, it was a slow, gentle kiss, though the sensuality picked up with each passing moment. Aaron's strong hands found their way into my hair, and I laid my own hand over his thick thigh, trying so hard to be good and not inch upward even when the heat became borderline unbearable.

For once, though, my brain overrode the desires of my body. I was dealing with too many personal messes already. I pulled back from Aaron's kiss, catching my breath before I asked him, "Can we talk?"

His brow furrowed. "I thought we were talking."

"No, I mean—can we talk about us ? What we're doing? What we are to each other?"

I knew from the look on his face that I'd caught him off guard, and there was a tight, anxious feeling in my chest at the prospect of this conversation, too. But I'd learned my lesson about getting involved with someone with no thought or care for the future, and I needed to draw lines somewhere before I fell into bed with Aaron Pierce or anyone else.

I guessed it really was true—the third time was the charm.