Chapter 3

3

I woke before dawn—as I do every morning—only instead of sneaking in an hour of workout before Rory wakes up, I snuck out of a dark hotel room, leaving a naked and sleeping Estlin behind. She was on her stomach, her head tilted away from me, the sheet up to her mid-back, but I found myself watching her sleep for a moment. The rise and fall of her body with her slow, even breaths. The spill of her dark hair interspersed with pink and blue strands. Eyes closed, lashes fluttering ever so slightly as if she were dreaming.

She is arrestingly beautiful, and being with her was exhilarating, heart-stoppingly pleasurable, and just… fun. A fun I haven't had in far too long. A fun that was selfish and satisfying and something I didn't want to give up in that quiet moment in the dark. I wanted to stay, slide back beneath the sheets, and do it all over again.

That thought is finally what made me pull away and leave. If I didn't leave then, I'd be more than a little tempted to stay. Knowing the right course, I dressed silently and left. But not before I took something of hers. A dirty keepsake to remind myself that last night happened, and the woman of my dreams was real.

Estlin is a young, gorgeous temptation I have no space for in my life.

But that didn't stop me from thinking about her all morning or from jerking off in the shower with her on my mind. I guess that's the nice thing about a one-night stand with a woman you'll never see again. Fantasy is safe when you know it won't lead to more.

This afternoon, Jack is coming by, and he's bringing his little sister, Eddie, for me to meet, or more like reintroduce myself to, so I can find Rory a nanny. That's where my attention needs to be. Rory needs someone consistent so I can give her structure and routine and some semblance of normal. Not something all that common when you're a single dad, hospital-based pediatric general surgeon.

As I make Rory's Mickey Mouse pancake with a smiling face made out of blueberries, that's all I'm allowing myself to be focused on.

"Can I go swimming at Katy's pool today?" Rory asks without bothering to look up at me as she plays on her iPad.

"Not today, Moonshine," I call back over my shoulder as I plate her pancake. "Tomorrow Katy is going to take you."

Katy Barrows is one of my best friends—my cousin, though not by blood—and also Rory's godmother. She had a baby a couple of months back, but whenever she can, she still tries to take Rory swimming. Swimming and generally being in any water is Rory's favorite thing on the planet, and I won't lie and deny that I love what a good swimmer Katy has made her.

Rory's lips pull to the side, but that's her only reaction of displeasure. I set the plate in front of her so she can see its shape before I start cutting it up into bite-sized pieces and then dousing it in an unhealthy amount of syrup.

"Clementine or strawberries? "

"Clementine," she answers easily as she fists her fork, spears a piece of fluffy cake, and shoves it in her mouth. I go to correct her finger positioning, but she pulls her hand away before I can even reach it. This girl is all gross motor but needs some definite work on her fine motor skills.

I peel her clementine and set it on the edge of her plate away from her pancake before I take the seat beside her at the island counter, sipping on my third cup of coffee today when I'm normally a one-to-two-cup max guy. I watch her for a moment as she eats and stares at her screen, rewatching the same My Little Pony video she has a million times over and feel like I'm doing everything wrong. As I have since she was a toddler and her mother left us because she decided having a kid and a husband was a real drag and interfering with her social life and her ability to become the best cardiothoracic surgeon in the country.

But she didn't just leave us.

She planned the whole thing out for well over a year before she filed for divorce, and I had no clue. She moved funds around, even dipping into a few of my personal accounts without my knowledge or consent. She had two PIs and a team of attorneys digging into me and my family, searching for anything they could. And when that turned up with nothing—I know because I had my good friend Vander and his father, Lenox, who are master hackers, dig into it—she wrote a tell-all book, claiming that I financially starved and emotionally abused her.

Thankfully, I found out about this before it went to print.

I sued the publisher, and it never saw the light of day, though some excerpts of her lies did leak to the media. The backlash was enormous, and I had to sue her for defamation of character. And while all this was going on, just to be a bitch, she fought me for sole custody of Rory when she never wanted her to begin with .

No, she needed to look like the victim as she went after my money and ruined my name. Money she wasn't going to get because of our iron-clad prenup.

She dragged both Rory—who wasn't even four at the time—and me through the mud, making our divorce as public as she could and not caring at all when the press followed us around or hounded poor Rory who was already scared and didn't understand why all of a sudden her mother decided she didn't want or love her.

Eventually, some of my ex's evil doings came to light—again, thank you, Vander and Lenox—and when everything made its way to the press along with the courts, she finally declared through her attorneys that if I paid her five million dollars, she'd quietly go away and relinquish her parental rights to Rory. I gave in just to get rid of her from our lives. Just to ensure she couldn't touch Rory ever again.

Since then, I feel like all I do is juggle life, and my baby girl gets caught in that.

Last year, the school I had her in for kindergarten was a nightmare. She hated it. Hated her teachers, her classmates, everything. And with that, she acted out. Throwing tantrums and having fights—nonphysical—with other kids. She'd cry herself to sleep and wake up angry, mean, and resentful. I put her in therapy and did everything I could to get her to open up to me, but she refused, shutting down and keeping her thoughts and feelings close to her chest.

But this is a new school year in a new school. And I'm determined to fix everything for her and get her back on track.

"The magic of friendship," she calls out along with the video.

"Hey, Moonshine, can you listen for a sec?"

She doesn't pull herself away from the screen, not even for a second. "What is it?"

I hold in my snicker. "Focus for a minute. This is important. We're going to meet a new friend today. A new nanny for you. Remember?"

She pauses, food halfway to her mouth, and she peers over at me. The bite gets shoveled into her mouth, but I finally have her full attention.

"Her name is Eddie. She's Uncle Jack's sister. She might come and stay with us for a while and hang out with you. Some days, when I can't or Nonna and Baba can't, she'll pick you up from school and maybe make you dinner and help you with any homework you have. She'll be fun. What do you think?"

"You're just kidding, right?"

Hell. Even my upbeat tone and smile didn't sell it. I soften and lean forward, setting my coffee down on the counter. "No, sweetheart. I'm not kidding. We might have a new nanny living in our house and as part of our lives, helping to take care of you."

I get a slow, unsure blink. "She'll sleep in my room?"

I run my hand over my girl's soft blonde curls. "No, baby. She'll sleep in her own room in our house, but not far from your playroom."

Her eyes peer up at mine as she picks up a piece of blueberry with her fingers and eats it. "And she's nice?"

"I'm sure she's super nice."

"But we don't know her. What if she meets me and doesn't like me?"

It's days like these that I hate my ex-wife and all the little assholes in her kindergarten even more than I do on regular days. My daughter, who has the purest, sweetest, most face-value heart, is filled with distrust when it comes to strangers and new people after being chased around by the press for nearly a year after her mother left her.

I cup her face in my hand and make sure she's looking at me. "Rory, I'm positive she's going to love you. But if you don't like her or you don't want her to stay, then we can talk about it and try to find someone else that you do like and do want to stay."

Another slow, even blink as she considers my offer. "I guess that's okay. Can I show her my toys?"

"You can show her anything you want. I think she's an artist, so she can make art with you."

She shrugs, already moving on and back to her show. "Will I get to see baby Willow tomorrow when I go swimming with Katy?" Rory scrunches her nose. "She's so cute."

"She is, but I don't know if Katy is going to bring her along." I lean over and kiss the top of her head.

I take a sip of my coffee, hopeful this afternoon's meeting with Eddie goes well when my doorbell rings. Rory's head peers up and toward the door, but she doesn't move. I jump out of my seat, kiss her head again, and say, "Finish your lunch. I'll go see who that is," before jogging over to the door.

I check the video app on my phone and groan.

"I heard that."

I roll my eyes as I open the door, and my little sister Wren is there, her phone tucked against her ear.

"Yeah, I'm here, Mom. I'll call you back later." She presses the red end button and then gives me a look as she takes a sip of her enormous Starbucks. "Why am I just now hearing you're hiring Eddie Kincaid as your new nanny?"

"What are you doing here, Wren? I picked up Rory from your place two hours ago."

"Yeah, but you didn't tell me about this."

I step back, waving for her to come in. "I haven't hired her yet," I tell her with a tired breath as I walk back toward the kitchen.

"You know she was my best friend when we were kids, right?"

I pause and twist back to her. "Really? I didn't realize that," I admit. "Or maybe I forgot about it. You were always surrounded by eight thousand kids."

Wren huffs, tossing her long, blonde hair back. "That's because we have eight thousand cousins and family friends. Eddie was one of them. She's a couple of years younger than me."

"Great," I deadpan, continuing to the kitchen because I don't care all that much. I mean, I guess on one level, I'm glad Eddie is so interconnected to my friends and family. That's actually the only reason I've agreed to meet with her. "I need Rory to like her first before I can hire her. This was all Jack's idea. I guess Eddie was living abroad and is returning home to get back into her art, whatever that means. All Jack said was she was working as a nanny in England for the last seven months, doesn't want to live with her parents, and can meet the hours I require."

"Wow. You just really don't want to hire a nanny, do you?"

I shrug. "Not exactly, but what are my other options at this point? She needs more consistency with her days and routine. Plus, it's getting harder for her to be bounced around or have a revolving door of people. Hopefully, this Eddie will fit the bill. If she doesn't, I'll interview someone else."

" This Eddie ?" Wren grabs the back of my shirt, stopping me before I reach my kitchen. "You're such a jerk," she grouses. "You can't be like that with her, or she won't want to accept the position and live here with you."

I grunt. "That's not me being a jerk." I swat her hand away. "That's me taking care of my kid. She's my priority, not Jack or you or even Eddie."

She shakes her head. "I love Rory more than I love myself, and I'm glad you're finally agreeing to hire someone."

"But?" I press when she ends it there because I can tell one is coming .

She tosses her hands up. "But nothing. I just don't want you to be… you to my friend."

" Your friend ?" I scoff sarcastically. "When was the last time you talked to her?"

"I don't know. A year and a half ago, maybe? She was still living in Paris, but I heard she moved to London for a while. Still, just because I haven't talked to her in a while doesn't mean I don't care about her."

I fold my arms over my chest, staring my sister down. She's young and wears her heart on her sleeve in the form of worrying about everyone. "What, Wren? Why are you all defensive over her?"

"Because I care about her, and I care about Rory." She sighs and shifts her weight, staring down at the floor. "I want you to hire someone because I agree Rory needs it at this point. I love the idea of you hiring Eddie—or should I say Estlin since her middle name is the one she likes to go by now—so I want it to work out with the two of you because I think she'd be a perfect nanny for Rory. Promise me you'll try to keep an open mind about her. And that you'll try not to be short or gruff with her the way you can be with people."

Wren keeps going on, but I stopped listening like ten sentences ago. I blink. Then I blink again, glaring at my little sister as if she has fifty heads and all of them are speaking Icelandic.

No. I must have misheard.

It's impossible.

Jack would have said something if his little sister was supposed to be at the same bar we were last night. It can't be the same person. I just have her on my mind, is all.

I clear my throat. "What did you say her new name is?"

Wren rolls her eyes as if she's once again a teenager, and I'm far too adult to comprehend her. "It's her middle name. She's been going by it for years because, legit, what sort of parent names their little girl Eddie ? I don't care if she's named after Edgar Degas and Edward Cummings. She's not a Cullen, but even then, that was a guy. I've always been team Edward."

"Huh?" I spit out, nonplussed. "Wren, what the hell are you saying? Her name isn't Edward or even Edgar. It's Eddie."

She waves me away. "Nothing. Ignore me. Estlin's family still calls her Eddie, and she's fine with that if that's what you're going to do."

" Estlin ," I repeat. "You're positive that's her name?" Because I feel like I'm about to throw up or possibly pass out. It can't be the same woman I slept with last night.

"Yes. That's not exactly a name you hear all that often. Why?"

Oh fuck. Just… fuck! This can't be happening. Only the sick churning of my stomach is telling me otherwise. I lick my lips as my heart starts to pound a vicious torrent of blood through my veins. I can't catch my breath, and I take a step back, my hands dragging through my hair.

There's no way I slept with my best friend's little sister and the woman I'm about to hire to be my daughter's nanny. Right?

Jesus. How could I have done this? And what the hell do I do about it now?

"It's a strange name, is all." I puff out a breath, feeling like a miserable bastard. Even more of a miserable bastard than I normally feel like. "What happens if I don't hire her?"

Wren's light eyebrows pinch. "Why wouldn't you hire her?"

"I don't know her all that well."

She looks at me like I'm a moron. "Except she's Jack's sister and my childhood friend."

Wren's hands go to her hips, her expression fierce and determined. "She's not the sort of person to care about your money or fame. She dated a very famous, wealthy artist in Paris for years. She's an artist, Owen. A seriously talented one, like her mother. Rory loves art. Think of how good this could be for her."

"Right. For Rory." I lick my suddenly dry lips and try to swallow past the drought plaguing my esophagus. Fuck! I'm screwed. So screwed.

I can't have her be Rory's nanny. I can't have her live in my house. I can't pretend like I didn't spend all last night fucking her into multiple orgasms and watching as she came all over my mouth, fingers, and cock before falling asleep beside her. I said things to her. Dirty things. And I did those dirty things too. I told her I'd make her sore today and fuck me for wondering if I succeeded.

Did she know who I was?

Was all this some sort of game to her? That brings on a fresh wave of nausea.

If Jack finds out I slept with his little sister, he'll kill me. Rightfully so, because if it were reversed, I'd kill him if he ever laid a hand on Wren. Jesus.

"Are you okay?" Wren asks. "You're pale and… sweating." She scrunches her nose at that last one.

Am I okay? No. I'm anything but okay.

Before I can manage any sort of reply, the doorbell rings, and my heart plummets to my feet.