The Ten-Day Baby Takeover

by Karen Booth

  “Turn him around, facing you. So I can rinse out his hair.”

  He carefully turned Oliver in his hands, but it wasn’t easy—it was like holding on to a greased-up watermelon with moving arms and legs. “I’m trying to figure out how I’m supposed to do this by myself.”

  “I ordered a seat that goes in the tub. That will help immensely. And it won’t be long before he can sit up reliably in the bath on his own.”

  Now that he and Oliver were facing each other, Aiden had a chance to really study him. Oliver returned the gaze, chewing on a rubbery red fish. His eyes were so sweet and innocent, full of wonder. Aiden saw only hope, remarkable considering what the little guy had been through. As Sarah rinsed his hair, Aiden was overcome with the most unusual feeling. It was stronger than his inclination to protect Oliver from big waves. It was a need to keep him from everything bad. He never wanted Oliver’s eyes to reflect anything but happiness. Had his own father ever looked at him like this? He didn’t enjoy the role of pessimist, but the idea was implausible.

  Sarah rolled a small bar of soap in her delicate hands and washed Oliver’s back, shoulders and stomach, while Aiden held on tight. Every gentle caress showed someone who genuinely cared about her charge. He’d never really seen this side of any woman aside from on TV or in movies, and it was breathtaking to watch. If he were honest, he’d never done so many things with a woman that gave him a taste of what being a couple was like. Wining, dining and seduction were not the same. This was different.

  Sarah swept her hair to one side, displaying the stretch of her graceful neck, the contours of her collarbone. Her skin was so touchable, and the urge to do exactly that was strong with her mere inches away. His hands were practically twitching at the idea. He had to set his mind on another course.

  “So. Tell me more about you,” he said.

  She smiled and sat back on her haunches. “Not much to tell. Born and raised in Ohio, oldest of five. Moved to Boston to study fashion design, stayed for the good nanny jobs.”

  “Why not go right into design?”

  She plucked a washcloth from the bathroom vanity and wiped her hands. “Nannying was a detour. I grew up helping out with my siblings, so it was a natural thing to care for children. And Boston is not cheap. Nannying pays well. It just worked.”

  “If you liked it that much and it paid well, how does that stop working?”

  She looked down at the floor, her golden hair falling down around her face. “I burned out. Badly. Let’s put it that way.”

  That didn’t make sense. She didn’t seem at all burned out on caring for Oliver. If anything, she had superhuman stamina and patience when it came to it. “And the rest? Surely there’s a special guy in your life.”

  “There is.” Her face lit up so brightly that it was as if someone had sucker punched him. So much for seduction. There was another man.

  “His name is Oliver,” she continued. “He’s so sweet. He doesn’t talk much. Drools a fair amount. Still learning how to walk. Exactly like I like my men.”

  He laughed and shook his head. She was ridiculously charming and clever, probably why he had such a strong reaction to the idea of her with a boyfriend.

  She flipped her hair back and grinned at Oliver. “But seriously, the right guy hasn’t walked into my life and I’m not about to wait. I’m too busy trying to build my business to think about stuff like that. Romance is not on my radar right now.”

  No wonder he’d been feeling as though he and Sarah might be kindred spirits, even though they came from different worlds. She wasn’t looking for love. And neither was he. And with only ten days together, that might be perfect.

  * * *

  Sarah was ready to claim victory over bath time—Oliver was clean and she hadn’t been caught staring at Aiden. It was a miracle since she’d been doing exactly that, sneaking peeks at his chest, broad and firm with the most perfect patch of dark hair in the center. Then there were his glorious shoulders and his sculpted biceps. She’d also spent a fair amount of time studying the tattoo on the inside of his forearm—a dark and intriguing pattern, impossible to decipher.

  She bopped Oliver on the nose with the tip of her finger. “Hey, mister. It’s time for somebody to get out of the bath and get into pj’s.”

  Aiden furrowed his brow. “Sarah’s no fun,” he said to Oliver. “I don’t know about you, but I’m good for at least another fifteen minutes.”

  She smiled. “The water will be freezing by then. And don’t forget the schedule.”

  “Ah, yes. The schedule.”

  Aiden lifted Oliver out of the bath and handed him to Sarah, who had a towel at the ready. She wrapped up the baby, holding him close, gently drying his hair with an extra washcloth. Her vision drifted to Aiden as he climbed out and planted one foot on the edge of the tub and bent over to scrub his leg with the towel. She nearly bit right through her lip. His back was long and lean, his posture flaunting the definition—a railroad of muscle running north to that thick, touchable head of hair and south to a pleasingly tight rear view.

  He dropped his foot and turned. Either she hadn’t had time to turn away or she hadn’t had the will. A devilish half smile crossed his face—a grin that said he knew she’d just committed his backside to memory. Sarah was petrified. If she shied away, she’d look even more guilty. It’d be tantamount to blurting, I had to look. You’re too hot not to look. But if she kept staring, it would be hard to stop and that would further chip away at her resolve. No falling for the impossibly handsome single dad with the adorable baby.

  “You’re wet.” Aiden nodded in her direction, wrapping the towel around his waist.

  Sarah shifted Oliver to her hip. Her dress was streaked with dark patches and clung to her thighs. “Oh, shoot. Yeah. I should probably get out of this thing.”

  “Might as well get comfortable since we’re in for the night.”

  “Comfortable?” No, not comfortable. I need to get uncomfortable.

  “Unless an evening gown is more appropriate for story time. I’m still learning here.” He took the baby from her. They were ridiculously cute together—Aiden bare chested and wearing a towel, Oliver bundled up in his arms. “If Oliver gets to wear pajamas, that’s what I’m wearing, too. You might as well join us.”

  “I didn’t pack for a pajama party. All I have is one of my nightgowns.”

  “I haven’t seen your work yet. If I’m going to help you with your business, I need to know what you’re selling.”

  “I’ll show you pictures.”

  “Why? Too sexy?”

  “No,” she blurted, not taking the time to think.

  “Then what’s the problem?” He cast her a look of admonishment that left her quaking. “If this is what you do, you have to own it. You have to live it or it’ll never work.”

  “I do live it. I do own it.”

  “Then show me. I promise I’ll contain myself.”

  She stifled her exasperation. “Fine. Everything you need to get Oliver dressed is on your bed. I’ll be right back.”

  “Don’t take too long. I’m still figuring out this whole diaper thing.”

  Sarah hustled down the hall in her bare feet, muttering to herself. “Great job, Sarah. First you get caught staring and now he talked you into half-naked story time.”

  How had she ended up in this situation? Aiden. He was everything she hadn’t expected. Once she’d gotten past the get-out-of-my-office exterior and been invited into his inner sanctum, he’d shown her a different side, one that was unfairly appealing. He was nicer, he was more amenable, he was generous. And then there were the things his physical presence did to her, making her tingle in places that hadn’t tingled in more than a year. Not since she’d discovered that her employer Jason had been taking her to bed when he was in town and doing the same with countless other wome
n when he traveled for work. She’d allowed herself to get caught up in their lives, and crossed the line no nanny should, and she’d paid the price. Her heart had been trampled by Jason, and even worse—she’d had to say goodbye to Chloe, his sweet, adorable daughter. That had hurt like nothing else. She couldn’t repeat that mistake.

  She ducked into her room and closed the door, sucking in a deep breath to reclaim some semblance of control. She would not be her own worst enemy. Time to get her act together.

  Her eyes darted to her suitcase, perched on the bench at the foot of her bed. Unless some different pajamas had magically made their way inside, she had exactly one of her designs with her—a midthigh bias-cut nightgown with thin straps. The black raw silk held a subtle shimmer, embroidered with delicate silver threads at the hem and demure neckline. It didn’t scream sexpot, but it wasn’t anywhere close to frumpy either. Just risqué enough to give her an anxiety attack. Her shoulders dropped in defeat.

  “He said I have to own it. I just have to do that.” There was no more time for thinking. Aiden was indeed still figuring out the whole diaper thing, and Oliver would invariably pee all over him if she took too long. She wrestled her way out of her dress and threaded the chemise over her head. The silk skimmed her skin, reminding her precisely why her customers couldn’t get enough of her nightgowns—they made a woman feel sexy.

  But she could take the edge off. She grabbed her black cardigan and put it on, buttoning it up. She’d bought herself a small measure of modesty, but as she stole a passing glance in the mirror, she saw that she was not owning it—she was borrowing it. Frustration bubbled up inside her, but she couldn’t simply traipse into Aiden’s bedroom dressed for seduction. This would have to do. If she had to walk a narrow tightrope, she would. Even if she’d be donning a bizarre ensemble while doing it.

  With no more time for second-guessing, she hurried back down the hall. Aiden’s door was open. He was hunched over the side of the bed, attempting to dress Oliver.

  Sarah joined them, perching gingerly on the edge of the mattress. The bedding was so soft and silky she had to stifle a moan of approval. In dark gray pajama pants and a black T-shirt that showed off the straight line of his shoulders, Aiden was dressed to kill. Why did everything about him have to be so enticing? “Looks like you did well with the diaper. What about the rest?”

  “I’m worried I’m going to bend him in the wrong direction.”

  “Just think about how you would get ready for bed. Do that.”

  He arched an untamed eyebrow at her. “Then he’s ready. Because I don’t wear much to bed.”

  Of course he just had to plant that mental image in her head. He had to. “Then pretend you’re putting on a shirt for work.” She crossed her legs, noticing how parts of her were again tingling and zipping with electricity.

  Aiden got Oliver into the sleeves and the legs, but then he hit another trouble spot with the snaps. “These things don’t match up.”

  “Start at the top.”

  He did as she’d instructed and picked up Oliver when he was done. “Good?”

  “Fantastic.”

  He sat next to her on the bed, Oliver in his lap. “You know, I can hardly see what you’re wearing with that big old sweater over the top of it.”

  She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I was cold,” she lied. Being this close to Aiden, she was about to go up in flames. “And we need to get going with bedtime.”

  “Right. The schedule.”

  Nightgown crisis averted, it was now acceptable to exhale.

  “Since the crib doesn’t come until tomorrow, Oliver can sleep with you tonight. It will be a nice way for you two to bond.”

  “But what if I roll onto him? What if he falls out of the bed?”

  A breathy laugh escaped her lips.

  “Something funny?” he asked.

  “Careful. You sound like a dad.”

  “They’re valid questions.”

  “And I’m glad you’re concerned. We can put some dining chairs next to the side of the bed.”

  Aiden scratched his head, looking around the room. “Get up. Hold Oliver.”

  Sarah stood and took the baby, watching as Aiden pushed aside the bench at the foot of his bed and began tugging on his mattress. It only took a few pulls before it landed with a thump on the floor.

  “There. Then if he rolls out of bed, he won’t go far. It’s only for one night.”

  Sarah could hardly believe her eyes. “Talk about problem solving.”

  “It’s partly selfish. I won’t get any sleep if I’m paranoid all night about what’s going to happen to him.”

  She didn’t bother containing her smile, even though she sensed that with every sweet thing Aiden did or said, she was being pulled more forcefully into his orbit. “You’re turning into a dad right before my eyes.”

  Aiden retrieved the pillows from their resting place on the box spring—they hadn’t made the trip. “I have a job to do, I don’t shy away from it.”

  “I know, but you were bitching about baby gates a few hours ago. Now you’re camping out in your own bedroom.”

  Aiden stepped over to her and took Oliver. “It was the bath. I guess it started to sink in that he needs me. It feels nice. Nobody’s ever needed me like he does.”

  There was an edge of sadness to Aiden’s voice that tugged at Sarah’s heart. She needed to make a graceful exit, now. “You know, I think I’m going to get Oliver a bottle and walk you through the bedtime routine. Something tells me you’ll do just fine.”

  “Oh, okay. Did you want to have dinner after he goes to sleep?”

  I do. I really do. But I don’t. “No, thank you. I’ve had a long day. I’ll just turn in.”

  Aiden seemed puzzled, but didn’t argue. “Okay.”

  Sarah retrieved Oliver’s bottle and left Aiden to his own devices after a brief overview of what to do. Since Oliver’s nap had been cut short that day, she was sure he’d fall asleep quickly. Apparently, exactly that had happened, since she didn’t hear another peep for hours. She stayed in her room, tucked under the covers, trying to banish thoughts of Aiden from her head.

  Deep in the middle of the night, Sarah woke to the sound of Oliver’s cries. They caused her physical pain, made worse by the fact that she couldn’t go to him. Aiden had to learn how to deal with it. The baby let out another screech and Sarah rolled onto her side, squinting at the alarm clock on the bedside table. Two forty-three.

  This was normal. No big emergency. Oliver cried again and her instinct told her to go to him, and if she were honest, there was sympathy for Aiden, too. He’d been through a lot today and had risen to the occasion. She sat up, dangling her feet off the edge of the bed, listening. There was quiet. She was just about to lie back down when another cry came.

  As did a knock on the door. “Sarah? Are you up?”

  Hearing Aiden’s voice in the middle of the night did something funny to her. “Yes. Need some help?”

  Oliver wailed again.

  “Yeah. If that’s okay.”

  “Two secs.” Sarah climbed out of bed and opened the door. There stood a nearly naked Aiden, wearing only a pair of gray boxer briefs, and a red-eyed Oliver. The baby lunged for her and Sarah took him, bouncing him in her arms to comfort him. “What’s wrong, buddy? Why are we giving Daddy such a hard time on his first night?”

  Aiden walked in and sat down on the edge of her bed, running his hands through his hair. “I thought I was in good shape. He started to get fussy and then he started to cry, so I got up and changed his diaper. He was pretty wet.”

  Sarah nodded, pacing back and forth, partly to comfort Oliver, and partly to distract herself from the vision of Aiden. “Good.”

  “He didn’t want a bottle.”

  “Did you try his pacifier?”


  “I couldn’t find that thing. I think it’s somewhere in the bed.”

  “That might help. Let’s go look.”

  She followed Aiden down the hall into his bedroom, where he flipped on one of the bedside lamps. His daddy instincts were already becoming attuned. Most first-time parents would’ve flipped on the overhead light. She bounced Oliver up and down while Aiden kneeled down on the bed and began rummaging through the sheets.

  “Ha. Found it.” Aiden stood, victorious, and brought his finding to Oliver. The baby grabbed the pacifier with his hand and plugged it right into his mouth. “So that’s what he wanted.”

  “Apparently.”

  Aiden blew out a breath. “I have a lot to learn. But thanks for your help.” He reached for Oliver, but the baby was having none of that, clinging to Sarah and whimpering. “He wants you. Maybe you should take him for the rest of the night.”

  “Oh no. You have a way bigger bed than I do. And you two are supposed to be bonding, anyway.”

  “So sleep in my bed with us. I’m too tired to argue.”

  “That hardly seems appropriate.”

  “Why? We’re going to have a baby between us. You’ll have to trust me when I say that nothing will happen, however tempting you might be, Sarah Daltrey.”

  Tempting? Yeah, right.

  “And there’ll be plenty of room. You’re practically a miniature human being.”

  “I’m not miniature.”

  “Like I said, too tired to argue. Just get in the bed. Please.”

  “Fine. But tonight only.”

  “I won’t need to have you in my bed tomorrow night. There’ll be a crib.”

  Well, that certainly solved that, didn’t it? She walked around to the other side of the bed, and climbed in under the covers. Even with the mattress directly on the floor, she’d never been on a more comfortable bed in her entire life. Oliver must’ve been really unhappy to have had a hard time sleeping.

  Aiden turned out the light and joined them, lying on his side, facing her and Oliver. The baby relaxed and let go of his iron grip on her shoulder, settling in on his back between them. The quiet was thick and nearly unbearable. She was too keenly aware that she was in bed with Aiden and that Aiden was aware of her and that Aiden was still awake. It was going to take forever to fall asleep.