by Quinn, Taryn
My grandmother gasped.
Hannah did nothing.
She didn’t so much as blink at my arrival. Of course not. Because I might’ve entertained the fact that there could be more than one Hannah in town, but more than one Asher was much more unlikely. That meant she’d known exactly what she was walking into.
And she hadn’t wanted to come.
That lack of goodbye on her part the morning after had conveyed her feelings quite succinctly. This was just adding a period to them.
My grandmother frowned. “This is Hannah Jacobs. Hannah, this is my currently impolite grandson. Do you two know each other?”
I cocked a brow and looked to Hannah for that one.
After a moment, she tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced at my grandmother with a weak smile. “I don’t suppose you could leave us alone for a few minutes?”
“I certainly could, but why?”
Hannah cleared her throat. “I’m good at diffusing tricky situations. I just want to convey to Asher that perhaps he has the wrong opinion of me.”
“But how could he if he doesn’t know you?” My grandmother pursed her lips. “And how did you know his name was Asher?”
Hannah’s forehead wrinkled in confusion, as I’m sure my own did. Actually, forget the wrinkles. I probably had furrows deep enough to swim in now to match the troughs under my eyes.
“That’s his name, isn’t it?”
“It is, but I never called him that to you.”
“Oh, that’s right. You called him Snug.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Seriously?” I rubbed the side of my head and debated walking out on this whole conversation. If Lily hadn’t been asleep upstairs, I would’ve just left them to deal with the fallout.
Seeing Hannah again had been like being doused. Not with water, but with flames. And my previously disinterested cock agreed. Somehow being annoyed at her for not wanting to see me again—even if that had been our agreement—only made the fire burn hotter.
Except now I couldn’t even be irrationally pissed at her, because she hadn’t known I was the man my grandmother had called Snug.
Could I be any more emasculated?
Oh, yes, I could, by Hannah not wanting to see me again. She hadn’t even been uncomfortable about the possibility, since she’d had no clue I was the man she would be meeting today.
Just an unlucky booby prize.
And on top of that? She didn’t even have the dignity to look shocked or dismayed or something at the sight of me.
“I slipped, all right?” My grandmother stood up straighter. “Look, I’m not sure why there’s so much tension right now, if you two truly don’t know each other,” her dubious expression indicated what she thought about that, “but I think we need to sit down and have some sweet tea and cookies and figure this shit out.”
I opened my mouth to argue with her, but she’d already spun around to charge into the kitchen. So, I did what any man would’ve done in my situation.
I turned around and left Hannah standing alone in the goddamn hallway.
If she’d followed me, I would’ve at least had a target for my frustration. So, of course, she did not.
Hannah was hopping on all of my buttons with her beat-up tennis shoes.
Halfway back to my grandfather’s armchair, I frowned. Those were the shoes she’d chosen to wear to a job interview?
Then again, why not? She didn’t want the job.
Even in her battered shoes, jeans, and a T-shirt, with no makeup and her long hair in a ponytail, she was gorgeous. Possibly even more gorgeous than she’d been on New Year’s Eve when she was all dressed up. Not that I understood how that could be so, since she’d knocked me out then. And I obviously still hadn’t gotten all the way back up.
Leaving out my dick. Suddenly, that part of me was having no trouble remaining engaged.
I sat in the chair I’d just vacated and debated taking Lily to my office. Even dealing with her while trying to get some work done was better than this.
My grandmother hurried into the room with a tray containing a glass pitcher of sweet tea and a platter of her frosted lemon cookies. They weren’t bars at least, but even the lemon reminder from the night Hannah and I had spent together was too much.
With all that had gone on the last couple of months—how had it been two months already?—I couldn’t believe I even remembered. But it seemed as every detail from that night was etched into my memory.
Especially the intimate ones.
Annoyed at my manners, or lack thereof, I got to my feet. “Here, let me help you.”
Except I wasn’t fast enough. Hannah rushed into the room to assist my grandmother. Then my grandmother mumbled something about getting the glasses and vanished.
Hannah busied herself with fussing with the plate of cookies, tucking one or two that nearly slid off back into the center.
“Wondering if they taste as good as yours? I can assure you, they do not.”
I hadn’t had her lemon cookies. My grandmother’s were quite delicious. But I’d said the comment to be rude, although that wasn’t my typical nature.
Hannah’s lips trembled before she firmed them. She turned away as my grandmother entered the room with three glasses on yet another smaller tray.
“There we are. I have some lemonade if you’d rather—”
“No, no, Bess, thank you. The tea and cookies are perfect. But I’m sorry, I can’t stay long.”
Naturally not. Since the mere sight of me was obviously off-putting enough that she needed to flee.
Except she hadn’t wanted the job before she knew it was me.
Still, the impossibility of our situation was hard to ignore. Had blind luck pushed her my way? Or something else?
I waited until my grandmother and Hannah had taken seats on the sofa before I got right to business.
“So, how did you two meet?”
“Ordinarily, he’s a charmer, I swear,” Gran muttered.
Hannah simply dabbed her mouth with her napkin. I guess she didn’t want to weigh in on that score.
“I have a dog-sitting service. I was walking one of my customers’ dogs when Bess went out for a walk. Latte took a liking to Lily. Her great-grandchild,” she stressed, narrowing her eyes at me as if somehow I’d forgotten our familial relationship.
Or as if she was none too happy I’d left that detail out of our night together.
Why, I couldn’t fathom. Was no-strings sex different with a single father? She hadn’t seemed to mind.
It wasn’t as if she’d been completely forthcoming either. I didn’t know she was a dog-sitter. Did that even count as an actual job? It wasn’t my place to say how she made her money, but it was a far cry from my daily lifestyle, that was for sure.
And if I was more than a bit envious at the freedom that seemed synonymous with such work, I must be sleep deprived.
“Does your expertise at walking canines somehow grant you skill with human children?”
Hannah’s jaw locked just before my grandmother slammed down her plate. “Asher Heathcliff Wainwright, you have no call to speak to a guest like that in my home. What is the matter with you today?”
Before I could reply, Hannah let out a laugh, but she quickly coughed into her hand to cover it. “Heathcliff? Such a romantic name.”
My grandmother shook her head and picked up a cookie. I’d been given a momentary respite from her ire thanks to Hannah’s comment. “His mother had her flights of fancy.”
“Does it hold true, I wonder?” Hannah sipped her iced tea.
“Does what hold true?”
She still didn’t look my way. “Heathcliff was a difficult sort. Sometimes we become our namesakes unintentionally. A sort of kismet.”
“He’s not real,” I snapped.
This was not the first time someone had commented on my middle name, but it seemed particularly annoying coming from her. I was already pissed at her for wanting her so much.
Which
was not her problem at all, yet I couldn’t help holding her responsible.
That was added to the indignity of her not wanting to take my nanny position, even before she knew it was mine.
I wasn’t above being ridiculous, and today proved it.
“No, but he’s a staple of literature. He may as well be real. I can’t begin to count the ways Wuthering Heights has influenced storytelling and movies and even culture—”
“Why don’t you want the nanny job?” I demanded.
I expected her to deflect and deny. That was what most polite, uncomfortable people did. I was surely showing no tact whatsoever. But she met my frank question with an equally honest answer.
“Because I don’t want to take care of anyone else right now but me.”
For a moment, the truthfulness—and pain—in her statement reached down deep inside me to where I felt the same.
I hated myself for feeling that way. For the small moments of resentment that crept in when I became irritated at having to worry about Lily when I should be focusing on the newspaper. I was the only one who could pull it out of the hole we’d fallen into. I was the only one who cared enough.
And yet, I was all Lily had too.
Not entirely, of course. My grandmother adored her. She treated her as a true great-granddaughter, just as she had from the day Lily had been brought into our world on a permanent basis.
I was the one who was struggling to adapt to the new role that had been thrust upon me. Maybe if the newspaper had been thriving, maybe if I had been thriving, and not so exhausted and frustrated and worn thin, I would’ve been able to bounce back quicker.
Maybe I wouldn’t have felt as if I was drowning.
Rather than my grandmother arguing with Hannah—God knows I couldn’t have since I felt the same, much as I hated admitting it—she simply nodded and set her half-eaten cookie aside. “I understand. I hoped you would change your mind, because I truly feel in my gut you are the right one to help my Snug—”
“Jesus, can we not?”
She ignored me. Probably as she should have, since I was being a dick right now. “But my great-granddaughter is far too precious to foist on anyone.” She rose and dusted off the crumbs on her purple pants. “I apologize for wasting your time, Hannah, and I do hope we can still be friends.”
“Oh. Well, yes. Of course. My apologies for the trouble.” Obviously flustered, Hannah finished off her tea and cookie—palming the other fast enough she probably figured my eagle-eyed grandmother wouldn’t see—and stood.
I did too despite the fact I was not ready to let her out of my sight again. But now thanks to my grandmother, I had her last name.
At least I had a route to finding her again. If I so chose.
“Thank you for coming.” My voice was stiff, but that couldn’t be helped. I couldn’t look away from her. Couldn’t miss another couple moments in her presence. “I’ll walk you out.”
Hannah picked up her purse with the hand not hiding the cookie and attempted to smile. “Thanks.”
I motioned for her to go ahead of me. She’d made it about three steps when a loud cry sounded from upstairs.
All three of us froze. Then I sprung into action.
I ran for the stairs, shocked at Hannah blocking my path. She was already heading up too.
“You don’t know where you’re going. Move.”
She kept right on heading up, her speed swift enough that I couldn’t fault her for slowing me down. As if she’d been here a million times before, she followed the baby’s cries into the nursery, and I burst into the room behind her with my grandmother on our heels.
Lily was half out of her crib, seemingly hanging, precariously close to falling.
“Lily.” My panicked shout spurred Hannah into action. She picked up my baby before I could, cradling her in her arms like a natural, murmuring to her while Lily cried.
Almost immediately, the baby’s tears began to slow.
With my heart still in my throat, I glanced at my grandmother. Although she was clearly still upset, her expression said one thing clearly.
I told you so.
Seven
I cuddled Lily closer to my chest, shocked at how right she felt in my arms. I wasn’t sure when the last time was that I’d held a baby, but this one might as well have been meant for me.
That wasn’t even considering that I might be holding her the wrong way. I was supporting her head, just as I was supposed to, but she was so long. Probably why she’d almost vaulted out of her crib, for heaven’s sake.
She was a tiny little baby. Well, age-wise. Wasn’t she?
“She’s only eight months, right? Isn’t that what you told me?” I asked once Lily’s sobs had eased into hiccupping gasps. Poor thing.
“Yes.” Bess hurried over to stroke Lily’s head, murmuring softly to her great-grandchild.
Asher, I noticed, kept his distance. He’d certainly rushed in here fast enough. Was his worry so easily assuaged?
“She’s just so long. And is she crawling?”
Asher tucked his hands into the pockets of his suit pants and said nothing.
“Yes, she’s getting about pretty good. Not standing yet,” Bess added, as if anticipating my next question. “I’ve been working with her, holding out some of her favorite toys and having her make her way to me if she wants them. She seems advanced to me. Definitely more advanced than my Danielle was at her age.” Bess scooped her fingers through Lily’s wispy red curls before moving to the crib. “Guess that was what this was all about, huh? A bored, mischievous little girl.”
“Could’ve been the loud voices too.” I lifted my chin. “Unless she’s used to those.”
“What are you implying? That my—Lily is used to hearing arguments in her home?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.” Somehow I managed to keep my gaze squarely on his. “Do you argue a lot with her mother?”
It probably hadn’t been a strictly necessary question. I wasn’t taking the nanny job—was I?—and this situation wasn’t my business.
Too bad it was harder to convince my heart of that. Or my belly, which had been flip-flopping since the moment I’d laid eyes on Asher again this afternoon.
If I was being truthful, it probably hadn’t stopped since we’d met on New Year’s Eve. Every time thoughts of him entered my head, I was in trouble. No matter how I tried to keep them out, they were persistent. He was persistent.
Right now? He was pissed at me. Again.
I’d always thought I was a rather inoffensive person, but Asher seemed to have no trouble finding things to be irritated at me for.
So different from how he’d been that night. I supposed that made sense. What crazy woman would sleep with a stranger who wasn’t even friendly?
Me.
We were still strangers for all intents and purposes, but my skin was tingling and too tight and I couldn’t quite stop staring at his lips. And remembering what they’d done.
With relish.
“Her mother died during childbirth. So, no, I do not argue with her, nor would I if she was alive.” Asher’s flat hazel eyes pinned me in place as my breath stalled in my chest.
The silence that fell was so dense that even Lily stuck her little fist in her mouth, her inquisitive brown eyes now riveted on mine. It was so much easier to look down at her sweet, innocent face than to meet Asher’s accusatory gaze.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
I hadn’t known any of this. I couldn’t even blame him for leaving me in the dark on so much, as we’d agreed to just one night. But I also couldn’t help being envious of the nameless, faceless woman who had borne him this beautiful baby.
It wasn’t my place. Wasn’t my life.
Tell your green heart that.
“Gran, would you mind leaving Hannah and I alone for a few moments?” When Bess hesitated, he added, “Please.”
She nodded and walked out without a glance back.
I clung to the baby.
His baby, whom I wasn’t in any hurry to return. God knows why.
“The mattress is too high,” I blurted as soon as Bess shut the door behind her and closed us inside.
Together.
Asher crossed his arms, straining the seams of his wrinkle-free white dress shirt. “Excuse me?”
“Lily’s mattress is too high. That’s why she was able to climb up. The height of the bed should be lowered. Or there are sleep snugglers, which help keep the baby secure in this little wrap-like thing. It’s almost a sleeping bag, but they don’t mind it. That way she can’t just decide to climb whenever she wants.”
Utter silence met my unsolicited advice. I couldn’t say I was surprised.
“For someone who doesn’t want to take care of anyone else, you’re full of suggestions.”
“It was an issue with one of my sisters too. That was a lifetime ago, but she was always trying to escape. My mom had to get creative.”
“Hmm.”
When it became clear he wasn’t going to say anything else on the matter, I stepped forward to give him back his daughter. If it physically hurt to surrender her, I chalked it up to some kind of weird hormonal imbalance. Damn PMS.
Even if my period had been a no-show so far this month. It had to arrive eventually. Maybe that was why my symptoms were worse than usual.
But instead of accepting Lily graciously, he laid his hand on my arm. She looked back and forth between us, her tiny rosebud-pink lips pursed.
My heartbeat kicked into gear, and I had the most irrational urge to laugh.
I don’t know what’s going on either, kid.
“You really didn’t know she was my grandmother.” Though his voice was so low I had to lean forward to hear it, his expression was fierce.
“No. How could I have? I didn’t know you had…this.” I indicated the baby in my arms with my chin. “I also didn’t know your last name. Wainwright.” My brain finally clicked into gear, and my eyes flew wide. “Not the Wainwrights. The mogul? Bess said you managed the newspaper—”
I stopped at his laughter and shook off his hand. “Why are you laughing at me?”
Bess had said that, hadn’t she? Or some variation therein.