by Kendall Ryan
Thirty million dollars. I feel light-headed and have to press one hand to the sticky table and take several deep, slow breaths. I can’t even imagine making thirty-thousand dollars right now.
I guess that explains why he throws money around like it’s nothing. What does one single man do with that much money? And why does the I can get my dick sucked anytime I want discussion we had flicker in my mind in response to that answer? There’s no way that Alexei pays for sex, not a chance. I quickly try to get that thought out of my head. Alexei’s muscular body naked, his hips pumping . . .
Stop, Ry.
“We’ve met once before,” I say offhandedly to Desiree as I clear the rest of Alexei’s uneaten lunch. I don’t dare tell her that I stayed the night in his guest room last night. She’d probably drop dead from a heart attack on the spot.
“He’s fucking hot. Tell me you’re going to call him. Please, God, I’ll call him if you don’t and pretend I’m you!”
I roll my eyes and lift the tray. Not one to be easily dissuaded, Desiree follows me into the kitchen.
She’s right. Alexei is hot. He’s tall and muscular and gorgeous. But given the circumstances of how we met . . . the circumstances of my life right now? Yeah, the last thing I need is another complication, even a gorgeous and generous one.
“I don’t know,” I admit, and Desiree lets out a frustrated groan.
She pinches her lips together as she thinks this over. “Yeah, I guess it might not be good for him to be seen in public with someone who works at a topless bar. The media frenzy alone would be crazy.”
She has an interesting point, and one I haven’t considered. I’m trouble for a guy like him.
At first, I was horrified to have him see me here with my tits hanging out for God and everyone to see. But the way he looked at me? Like I was some lost puppy he needed to save? That felt like a punch to my gut. I won’t be someone’s pet project. Not ever. No fucking thank you.
So, I didn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten to me. I just marched over to his table and treated him like any other customer. I put on my game face like I do for every other XY-chromosome who walks into the club, and pretended his look of pity didn’t make me feel like the dirt on the bottom of his football cleats.
Yes, of course I’d love to meet a man as handsome and generous as Alexei someday, but not because I can’t pay my rent and he wants to fix it for me. I want someone who wants me for me, who likes what I have to say, who thinks I’m funny and smart and beautiful. Not someone who sees a hot mess he needs to fix when he looks at me.
I don’t need some knight in shining armor to come to my rescue, no matter how cute he is or how cute he looks holding Ella. It’s really not fair to my ovaries to see a big, muscular man holding a baby. My mind wanders back to the way he sang to her in Russian. And yeah, how good he is with the baby only makes me feel more inadequate.
I’ll prove to everyone, including Alexei, that I can take care of myself. And Ella.
Who am I kidding? I won’t ever see Alexei again after the way I dismissed him a few moments ago like he was any other Joe in the club . . . like he didn’t matter when he does.
• • •
By the time I get back home, it’s raining. I worked the lunchtime shift and would have stayed through the evening shift too, but it was slow and my manager sent me home. Luckily, I made it to the auto-repair shop before they closed, and though I’m several hundred dollars poorer, at least I have my own car back and won’t have to rely on ride-share services.
It never bothered me before, but coming back to the dumpy apartment complex I call home after having spent the night in Alexei’s multi-million-dollar condo is a bit more depressing than usual. It doesn’t help that the sky is gray and overcast, and dumping what feels like buckets of cold water down on me.
I stopped at the grocery store on the way and am finally arriving home. Carrying two heavy grocery bags, I trudge up the front steps. I’ll pick up Ella from the neighbor’s after I drop off the groceries inside. That’s my last thought before the bottom of my paper bags give out, sending everything tumbling to the sopping-wet ground.
Shit.
Heaving out a sigh, I bend down and begin gathering the wet, muddy groceries, piling as much into my arms as I can hold. Shuffling to my door, I see there’s a lockbox fixed around my doorknob. That wasn’t there last night. I look up to find a yellow sheet of paper taped to the door, an eviction notice. Apparently, the locks have been changed, and I have to pay my back rent before I’ll be allowed inside to retrieve my things. The landlord said I had another week.
Fucking hell. Can this day get any worse?
Before I can begin to process all of this, before I can start to cry, I hear the crunch of tires and a car stopping beside the curb. Somehow, I know without looking up who just pulled up behind me, which makes me want to cry even more. Tears burn the back of my eyelids and my nose tingles.
Alexei hops out into the rain wearing a hoodie and comes over to retrieve the canned goods, bananas, and various cartons and containers that I’m juggling. “You okay?” he asks in that same rich tone that I’ve come to both love and hate in a matter of two short days.
Why is he here? Why does he even care? Why does he always have to see me at my absolute worst? The universe hates me—that’s the only explanation for this horrendous karma.
“I’m fine, Alexei. I told you that.”
He cocks one eyebrow. “You don’t look fine.”
I’m sure I look like absolute hell with stringy wet hair plastered to my forehead, food scattered at my feet, and the eviction notice shining from my door like a gigantic beacon, announcing what a loser I am. Hit by another sudden wave of emotion, I pinch my lips together.
Alexei looks behind me, and I can see his brain registering the predicament I’m in right now.
“Come on. Let’s get Ella. You’re both coming with me.”
My embarrassment may be through the roof, and there’s no denying I need help. But somehow the anger and utter helplessness at my situation is projecting into my tone.
“I’m not your problem, or your little outreach project. You don’t have to worry about me.”
He nods. “Yeah, I know. Just like you didn’t need to take in Ella when your roommate split. But it was the right thing to do, so you did it without a second thought. Come stay with me until things calm down for you and Ella.”
In that moment, I realize that this is all I am to him. An obligation. His latest charity contribution. If he walked away now and the media got wind of it, it could irreparably tarnish his image. So, he has to do ‘the right thing’.
“I don’t know you, Alexei, and I can’t just come live with you. I can’t bring someone else’s baby into your house and expect you to put up with everything that comes with taking care of a two-month-old, no matter how long this situation lasts.” My voice is as strong as I can make it, but I swear even I can hear the lack of conviction in it.
“Ryleigh, this is no place for a baby. It’s raining, and by the looks of it, you’re homeless. All I’m asking is for you to let me be your Plan B.”
I nod in defeat, the enormity of my situation weighing me down so heavily that I’m not even sure which way is up. What I do know is that Alexei is here, and he wants to help us. I can’t turn him away, even if I wanted to.
“Fine. Let me get Ella.”
Alexei grabs the groceries from me to load into his car while I go to my neighbor’s door to pay her for babysitting. After flipping up the cover on Ella’s infant carrier to shield her from the rain, I hurry back to the car and place the carrier in the back seat. Alexei takes over, buckling her seat in place.
Still fuming mad about my life’s turn of events, and horribly embarrassed, I climb inside his car. There’s not one inch of my clothing that’s dry, and I’m shivering but trying desperately to hide it, because I refuse to give in to it. I’m stronger than that . . . at least, I used to be.
G
iving me a sense of déjà vu from the first night we met, Alexei cranks up the heat and directs all the vents toward me. Tears gather in my eyes at his ability to make me feel like I’m the most important thing in the world. I know I’m just something for him to fix, but it doesn’t matter in that moment. Unable to say a word without tearing up, I stare blankly out the window and wonder if I’ll ever get out of the messes I keep creating.
We arrive back at his place and get settled inside. I don’t have anything to wear, and the only supplies I have for Ella are what were in her diaper bag. Alexei immediately leaves again, heading out into the rain to go get us what we need, putting me even further in his debt.
While he’s gone, I strip out of my wet clothes and run a bath. Ella coos and flails her arms and legs while staring up at me, lying on a towel in the center of the bathroom while the tub fills. I realize that in four days of caring for her, I haven’t given her a bath yet, and I suddenly feel like shit. I seriously have no idea what I’m doing. I strip her naked, throw her diaper in the trash, and cradle her carefully to my chest as I step into the warm water and ease us down.
Being skin to skin like this with her, hearing her happy little baby coos, is the first time I’ve really felt close to her.
“I won’t let anything bad happen to you, sweet baby girl,” I whisper, cupping warm water in handfuls to pour over her back.
I turn Ella and bend my knees so she can sit up against them while I lie back in the water. She enjoys her bath, kicking her little feet as I lather my hands with soap and wash her from head to toe.
“Hello? Ryleigh?” Alexei’s voice calls from the hallway.
I didn’t hear him come home.
“In the bathroom. We’re taking a bath,” I call back.
A moment of silence.
“Both of you?”
I chuckle. “Yeah.”
“Okay. Let me know if you need a hand.”
I roll my eyes, still smiling. “Thank you, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got this.” I look at Ella and whisper in a silly voice, “We’ll have to teach him that girls rule and boys drool, won’t we, Ella?”
And with that, she laughs at the perfect moment, causing all the bad shit that’s happened over the past four days to magically disappear from my mind as I laugh right along with her.
I finish bathing Ella and blow a few raspberries on her cute little tummy, and decide she looks even cuter with her skin pink from the warm water and with her fine blond hair wet and curly.
As I stare down it her, it suddenly hits me. Damn. With her in here with me, there’s no way to wash myself, and no good way to get her out and dry her off without a second set of hands.
“Um, Alexei?” I call out.
“Yeah?” His voice is much closer than I expected, like he was waiting outside the bathroom door to come to our rescue if needed.
“Any chance you could come in here and help me get her out without looking?”
He lets out a deep chuckle. “Sure, but I wouldn’t want to drool over anyone while I’m in there, being a boy and all.”
Okay, I totally deserved that, but he had to know I was just joking with him. But was he trying to flirt with me with that comment? Nah . . . he was just mocking my comeback to him. That has to be it, right?
“Oh, so you heard the little heart-to-heart that I was having with Ella, huh?”
As I’m talking to him through the door, I frown down at myself. The bubbles have evaporated from our bathwater, and it’s just miles of bare skin as far as the eye can see. More my skin than Ella’s, of course. I sink my shoulders deeper in the water, like that will somehow magically cover my breasts from his view. I remind myself that he’s seen these same breasts only hours earlier today.
“Come on in,” I say in a resigned voice.
The door opens, and Alexei steps inside.
As he navigates around the pile of clothing I stripped out of, including a lacy black G-string, I swear I see a faint blush to his cheeks. Though it’s dangerous even to fantasize about, I can’t help but wonder if he likes what he sees.
When his eyes meet mine, I scold him. “I told you not to look!” Ella does little to shield my body from him. Traitor.
He smirks, looking even more handsome, if that’s possible. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Damn, why’d he have to bring that up when I’m already mortified? I tried to purposefully block that from my memory. I was just so mad he’d showed up at my place of work, barging in and acting like a possessive boyfriend when he doesn’t really know me at all. If he did, he’d know how much I value my independence, how important it is for me to take care of myself. Ever since my parents passed, it’s like I have a huge chip on my shoulder, and I need to prove to everyone how much I’ve got it together . . . even when I’m falling apart.
Alexei grabs a fluffy white towel from the cabinet and reaches for Ella as I hold her up. He wraps her securely so only her tiny face is peeking out, like he’s done this exact thing a million times before.
My God, I don’t know what’s more adorable . . . Ella all bundled up in that warm towel with only her eyes showing, or the huge masculine man who’s holding her and saying silly things to her as he tries to get her dried off. And I thought that smirk was sexy. A gorgeous man holding and caring for a baby is about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“I didn’t think about the fact that I couldn’t wash myself while I was holding her,” I say, shifting beneath the water.
He nods, still grinning at me. God, that grin is lethal. It makes my belly tighten and flip, and my insides feel like mush.
“I figured. And she probably peed on you as soon as she hit the bathwater, maybe even a time or two.”
“Ew. Gross. Okay, I’m definitely showering.” I pull the drain on the tub with my big toe as Alexei turns his back, finally giving me some privacy.
“Take your time. I’ve got her.”
I think those are the best six words I’ve ever heard. I also think if he were to say them to me again, I would melt in a puddle and flow right down the drain, along with the bathwater.
He leaves me alone to take a shower, and I find myself repeating those words in my head over and over.
When I emerge from the shower and trudge to the room I slept in last night, I find an array of shopping bags on the bed. I close the door and then peek inside each one.
There are three pairs of basic white cotton panties, a matching bra, warm fuzzy socks, T-shirts, a couple of pairs of boxers like the ones I like to sleep in, plus leggings and sweatshirts. Miraculously, everything is in my size. The man is nothing if not observant.
Still cold from standing out in the rain, I select the leggings and a soft gray sweatshirt, and get dressed, adding the socks at the end. I look down and wiggle my toes. Suddenly, I feel a bit like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.
It feels so strange to be standing here in his guest room, to be cared for in this way by a man I hardly know. I know this is him being a generous person, but why do I feel like this could easily transform from the friend zone to something more sinful?
I brush my hair with the comb from my purse, and then head out to the living room to find Alexei and Ella on the couch. He’s already diapered her, and is cutting the tags off a pink-yellow-and-white-striped pajama onesie with little ducks on the feet.
Oh my God, he’s combed her hair. I almost orgasm on the spot. It’s parted on the side and combed neatly into place. My ovaries could compete on one of those dancing-competition shows with how active they’ve been today.
“This is all way too much, Alexei,” I say, joining him in the living room.
“It’s nothing, Ryleigh. I promise. Besides, she’s a girl and needs to be worshipped like all girls do.”
My throat feels tight when I swallow. Why am I reading between the lines with what he just told me? A couple hundred dollars in clothes and diapers and formula is nothing to him. But to us? It’s everything.
Suddenly, I want to sho
w him my gratitude, want to kiss him senseless and thank him in every single way I know how. Maybe even invent a few new ones. Instead, I rise to my feet and head into the kitchen. I need to put some distance between us before I do something I’ll regret.
“I know how to cook more than breakfast food,” I tell him. “Should I find something to make us for dinner?”
“Sure. That’d be great,” he says. “I think I have stuff for pasta or stir fry. There’s chicken and ground bison, and I’m not sure what else.”
Bison? Um . . . no thanks.
I open his fridge, and it’s like a food utopia. It’s all completely organized with glass containers filled with cooked rice, grilled chicken breasts, roasted sweet potatoes, and greens, and cartons of fresh berries. There are at least half a dozen avocados, and even individual jars of overnight oats with slivered almonds.
“Holy hell. This is amazing.”
Alexei chuckles. “I have to eat well during the season. And I go through a lot of food. My housekeeper is also my food shopper and preparer since cooking isn’t really my thing.”
“I can see that.” My fridge is sad in comparison. Bottled mustard and old pickles, along with a half-empty bottle of white wine.
Relieved that there’s at least something I can do to make myself useful, I select the ingredients for chicken marsala. There’s thawed chicken breasts and two cartons of mushrooms, along with the shallots and whole garlic cloves I spotted on the counter earlier. My mouth is practically watering already. Anything is better than instant noodles, but this is heaven.
Something inside me wants to impress him. I have zero to offer this man in return for his kindness, and he’s already done so much for Ella and me. I’ll show him my appreciation through his stomach—instead of in his bed like I wanted to do a few moments ago. I won’t sleep with him.
So I begin the food preparations, wanting to surprise him with how well I can cook. I have the chicken coated in flour and cooking in a sauté pan when he strolls into the kitchen carrying Ella.
“We could open a bottle of wine,” he says when he sees the direction I’m headed.