Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“Huh?” He suddenly sits and leans forward, back to his investigator routine. “What does that mean?”
“What?”
“Don’t what me. You just said it. You both have baggage. I know about your baggage, obviously, but what’s hers?”
“I don’t think I can share that with you,” I mutter. “It wouldn’t be right. But a couple of things have happened to her. She’d probably not want to get into a relationship, especially with an older man, especially with one who has power over her.”
I was thinking about this, lying in bed last night. If she can feel this heat, too, she’s got every reason to ignore it. She doesn’t want to get into another Jorge Lopez situation. She doesn’t want her boss to have more power over her, romantic or financial. It’d be like going back to square one.
“So she’s already given you a sob story.”
I gasp. “Jesus, Wes. You—”
He holds up a hand to stop me. “You’re my best friend. Emery is the light of my life. I’m allowed to have an opinion. I don’t want to see that little girl get hurt.”
“She hasn’t given me a goddamn sob story,” I growl. “She’s just shared a little about her past. That’s all. You’re making this into something it’s not.”
“Or maybe you’re so blinded by how hot you think this chick is you can’t see straight.”
“Callie is the nanny, Wes. She’s not Emery’s mom. She’s not my woman. She’s the nanny.”
“Why are you saying it like that?” When I don’t respond straightaway, he frantically explodes, “It’s because you think I’m freaking because Callie isn’t Sloane, right? I don’t want to see anybody except for Sloane in your house, with my niece? But that’s not it, not even close. It’s nothing to do with that. It’s everything I’ve said—everything you’re too blind to see.”
“So you think Callie’s a gold digger because she smiled at me over some ice cream.”
“Do you think I’d be saying any of this if I didn’t want the best for you?”
I sigh, shaking my head. “No, Wes. I know you’re coming from a good place. I just think you’re wrong.”
He grinds his teeth audibly, spinning in the chair to look out the window. “I can’t say there’s no truth in it, Gray. Sure, I wish Sloane wasn’t who she was. I wish she hadn’t run out. I wish you could all be a happy family. I wish I could go to Christmas at one place—yours and Sloane’s, instead of spending Christmas Eve with her and then swinging by yours to see Emery. But that doesn’t mean that’s what this is about. My instincts tell me you need to be careful with that woman. In my world, I’ve seen too many people taken advantage of.”
“I’m not some stupid old man who’s going to be tricked by a gold digger,” I tell him.
“That’s what they all say, Gray,” he mutters sadly. “Until it happens, nobody believes they’ll get scammed.”
His words bounce around my head all day, but I just can’t make them fit with my idea of who Callie is. Maybe that’s because I don’t want to believe them. I don’t know Callie, not really, but a girl raised in a cult is bound to develop the ability to manipulate, isn’t she?
I don’t like thinking of her like this, but it’s like when I’m too close to a project. I have to pan out. Take the big-picture view. I’m a man who has been burned by the mother of his child. I’ve been cold and distant ever since, and now Callie has awoken something in me. If she noticed my attraction, she could play it on, wearing those gorgeous summer dresses, moaning in the gym, making sure to be especially loving to Emery in front of me.
She could twist my head until I end up doing exactly what I’m doing now… sitting in my office, obsessing over her.
Do I believe it? Can I accept it?
When I get home, Emery comes running for me down the hallway, a big grin on her face. “Daddy, Callie found a trampoline in the garage. Come, look!”
She takes my hand, leading me into the backyard. Callie has put the trampoline together. I completely forgot I even bought it. It makes me feel like a rich douche. Emery was begging for one; then, she seemingly forgot she’d ever had the desire. But now, it’s built. Callie is jumping up and down. I’m relieved when Emery lets go of my hand so that she can clap.
Callie turns to me, laughing. She’s still wearing a dress. The hem flies up, revealing a flash of her thick, beautiful thighs. Her tits… fuck. The way they jiggle with each bounce. She slowly stops, hopping down.
“Do you want a turn, Emery?”
“Uh, duh.”
Callie laughs, then lifts her onto the trampoline. Callie walks over to me. Her breath sounds a little ragged, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Wes’s words are loud in my head. If an opportunistic nanny was manipulating me, this is the sort of thing she’d do. My cock stiffens as her scent washes over me, perfume, sweat, her.