7+Us Makes Nine: A Nanny Single Dad Romance (Baby Makes Three)

by Nicole Elliot

  Everything I thought of him, the fantasy I built up came crashing down. I stepped back around the corner, leaning on the wall as I tried to catch my breath. I almost felt sick. Perhaps because I was both devastated and confused, mostly hurt at the truth. When I felt the wetness in my eyes I mentally cursed him for even making me feel this way.

  But it was disappointing to think that everything I thought is a lie. Maybe I built him up in my head, but that night wasn’t a lie. He seemed very kind, more down to earth than anyone in that room. He felt good, too. I realized I was mostly disappointed he was taken but was fine with it if he was the type to cheat on his fiancé.

  Before I knew it, I was walking away. I should not be unprofessional, but I just couldn’t do it. My emotions would overcome me and then I would have a bad reputation if I treated him badly or didn’t do a good job. I almost wished I hadn’t replied to the email because then it would seem I just never got it. But I did.

  He would know I ignored him. And didn’t come. He couldn’t know it was me from the party, could he? I know I never told him, but there was a possibility he knew.

  Either way, I was definitely never seeing him again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tristan

  I grumbled, heading straight to the bathroom. I thought the hustle of the morning would make me forget about my ritualistic day dream of that woman, but it didn’t. When I was out of the shower, her face ran through my head. I imagined her in my bathroom, washing her face in the vanity, or brushing her teeth as I watched her tits bounce in the mirror.

  I need to stop before I make myself late. The weather was hot, so I wore linen instead of cotton. The shop was farther in the city, so I took out my Tesla for the first time in a while. I realized I was paying an arm and leg for storing cars that I never drove.

  I followed the directions and got to the floral shop a bit early. They weren’t open yet. Emilia’s was the name, and it fit. I peeked in the window, the flowers were beautiful, of course. Whoever it was did a good job with the gala, so I was sure they would do great with the wedding. I smiled softly when I saw the lilacs in the front, it was like my mother was reminding me to be nice and charitable. Help a friend in need and all that.

  I leaned against the wall and waited, I was sure she would be here eventually. I busied myself with old emails, just checking on my stocks and the day trades. But it was taking too long. I waited and waited. Then noon came around and still nothing. I double checked the address, and I was in the right place.

  I couldn’t believe she was a no show. Mom made her sound so professional, and she obviously was judging from her past work. So why the hell did she waste my time? I waited until ten after, maybe something happened. But by half after I was done waiting and stormed off.

  I sped off back to the city and stopped at the red light almost too late. Maybe I got pissed easily, but I just didn’t like being stood up, or when people didn’t show up to meetings that they confirmed. She replied Levi’s email, so I know she knew about it.

  As if I didn’t have enough to deal with, the car started ringing from a Bluetooth phone call. I pressed the answer button without checking who it was.

  “Hello?” I barked.

  “Someone is pissy.” I recognized that sultry, Latin voice. Gabriella had always been hot, I mean I wasn’t blind. But she had always been Levi’s.

  “Hi, Gabriella.” I sighed, trying to calm down. Maybe something just came up and she contacted Levi instead of me. But I never like tardiness or anything like that. My employees knew meeting days were nothing to play with. My time was precious. I could have been sleeping.

  “I just wanted to call and thank you for helping us out. Levi is working so hard on this case.”

  “Yeah, he is. It’s no problem.”

  “Did you already meet with the florist? I was hoping I could see some pictures. I have rounds for the next twelve hours.” I gritted my jaw in annoyance again.

  “I didn’t. She didn’t show up.”

  “Aw, well I was hoping I could get that done today. I was trying to stay on track as much as I could since the other florist quit. I guess I just have bad luck with florists.” She trailed off. Fuck, she sounded pretty sad.

  “I’ll call her and tell her to get her shit together. Don’t worry about it.”

  She gasped, “Really?” I smiled a bit. See, I could be nice.

  “Yeah. I’ll call you later.”

  I hung up. I stopped at the Starbucks around the corner for some iced coffee. I needed serious caffeine and something to really cool me off. Then I called the florist and it went to voicemail after two rings. Seriously?

  So, I just took the opportunity to leave an angry voicemail, asshole move. But I was mad.

  “Miss Michelle, this is Tristan Cox. We were scheduled to meet today, and I was waiting outside your shop for you to show up, but you didn’t. Obviously. The bride and I are on a tight schedule, so we need to meet today. Call me back.”

  I pressed end, almost cracking the phone in the process. Maybe that was an exaggeration, but I was close enough. Once I finished my coffee, I still hadn’t gotten a reply. So, I called her again, and there was still no answer. I had half a mind to find another one, but apparently, a two-week deadline isn’t something florists were very fond of. If we wanted to stay on track, we were sort of stuck with the no show girl. I was already invested in this, and I take things very seriously. It may seem like only a favor, but I go for things head on. And it pissed me off when other people block me.

  I hate to think ill of the girl, but she needed to answer her damn phone. Maybe she got in a wreck or something. That would be the only acceptable excuse right now.

  I got ready to leave and was in my car when Levi called me.

  “Hey, how did it go?” It was after one, he probably thought I had already met with her.

  “She didn’t show up, man. Gabriella even called me earlier and she sounded pretty bummed about it. I told her I would try and meet with her today again. But she isn’t answering her phone.”

  “Shit. I don’t think any other florist would agree to this deadline. I emailed like six other places and no one would fit us in. She was it.”

  “I know. I’ll try my best, just worry about your case. I’ll let you know if something is dire.”

  “Thanks man, you are really helping me out. I gotta run.” He hung up.

  I made a U-turn and headed back to the shop. Surely, she would be there by now, and if I cornered her in her work place, she definitely couldn’t run. If she did, she didn’t have any business running a shop. If I avoided every situation I didn’t want to be in back before I sold my company, it would never be worth millions of dollars.

  I pulled up to the street and found a parking spot right out front. I strode into the shop; the door was open now as I expected. I heard something in the back, so I followed the noise. I didn’t want to be an intruding guest or anything, so I stayed by the counter.

  In a matter of moments, she rounded the corner, and stopped in her tracks. It was the woman from the ball. The woman I have literally been dreaming about for weeks. The woman I have been going on and on about, wishing I could see her again.

  And it was the florist that can’t answer her phone either. Her eyes met mine, and then the vase she was holding fell and shattered on the ground.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Emilia

  The bride and I are on a tight schedule, so we need to meet today.

  The word washed over me like an acid. Or worse, poison. It went right to my core, like it was piercing my heart. I almost wanted to cry and then I felt so pathetic for it.

  We were not dating, and he surely didn’t owe me anything. But it still hurt. I had escaped to a small café around the corner. I needed something to calm me down, so I ordered some tea. That’s when I saw the call. I didn’t have to see into the future to know it was him calling me, following up on why I didn’t show up.

  What I hated the most was that he made
me so unprofessional. I didn’t skip meetings, I didn’t blow people off or stand potential clients up. But here I was. Being an unprofessional florist. I knew I had to get my head out of my ass, but I needed a minute.

  I spent a month literally dreaming about this guy. Waking up thinking about him, going to bed thinking about him, even pleasuring myself to him! He wiggled his way into my life at the oddest of times and then I had to run from him.

  I supposed it was a good thing since he was fucking engaged. The man was about to get married and I am over here fuming over tea about him. I wanted to google ‘what to do if your crush is engaged,’ but I was not in high school anymore.

  He called me again while I sat there, but I wasn’t ready to answer the phone yet. I had to get over this before I met him. It would be even worse if I was yelling at a client about being engaged when he was fucking me up against a wall. Or even worse, not being able to hold it together in front of his fiancée and then ruining two people’s lives. I couldn’t do that to them or myself.

  So, I needed to fume. Gather my thoughts. Make up a story, and then get about the work. Being around my flowers would help. They were almost the same as being around my mother. I finished my hot tea and then walked back to the shop. I nervously cleared the corners before I kept going and entered the shop.

  The smell hit me; lilacs and roses together are something out of a dream. I had put the lilacs in the front after the ball, remembering that it was his favorite flower. But now I just wanted them out of the way. I replaced them with purple daffodils, filling the vases with something new. I changed out the water and clipped the beads.

  All the flowers needed to be clipped, it would take a while. But I was glad to do it. It was a welcome distraction. A few people walked in, I sold about two hundred dollars’ worth of flowers. Graduation season was the best for me, second to Christmas. I put on a friendly smile and served my customers. Why couldn’t I do that with the man from the ball?

  Because he was buried so deep inside you, you forgot your own name.

  It wasn’t until two that things slowed down, and I could finish up in the back. The bell of the door swung open with another customer. I smiled softly and grabbed the vase of lilacs to put next to the peonies.

  But when I rounded the corner, it wasn’t just any customer. He stood by the counter, unseeingly tall amidst the flowers. The sunshine from the skylight fell right onto him, setting his hair aflame under the light, showing me the rigid lines of his muscles visible under the thin linen shirt. His thighs were thick and strong, his ass was perfect in those pants. My stomach clenched at the memory of him spreading my legs apart with those thighs. He had his hands in his pockets, the veins of his forearm leading right down to the seam of his pants. Why did he have to be so perfect? If he wasn’t so God damned gorgeous, I don’t think I would be in this much trouble.

  It all happened in seconds. I rounded the corner, my breath caught in my throat as I gasped; my eyes met his. Those smoldering green emeralds met mine with an intensity that made my knees weak, and then the vase flew out of my hands and fell to a shattered mess on the ground.

  “Shit!” I squealed jumping back so no glass would get on me.

  I scrambled for the dust pan behind the counter, tucking my hair behind my ear.

  “Let me help you.” He held out his hand, and I forced myself not to look up, but I did.

  My chest was constricted, almost no air could get through. I wanted to say hell no, you can’t help me. I don’t want your grimy, cheating help. He didn’t cheat on me, but it was still a shitty thing to do.

  “I’m fine.” I shoved my way past him and started brushing up the glass on my hands and knees.

  He sighed and stepped over the broken glass anyway, picking up the lilacs for me. He set them on the counter and I felt him staring down at me as I swept some stuff up, and then trashed it. When I was done, I ignored him as I went to wash my hands. Stop being unprofessional, this is your job.

  I forced myself to calm down and treat him like any other person. His moral capacity is none of my business.

  “How can I help you?” I appeared back at the counter, clearing my throat to get his attention.

  He turned to face me, and I had to look past him to ignore those eyes. They made me want to get down on my knee and suck him off right here, then beg him to take me against the desk. Before I knew it, I was flushed and rubbing my knees to relieve the pressure that I let slip through me.

  “I’m Tristan Cox. I had a meeting with you at noon for a wedding arrangement.” His deep even voice washed over me in familiarity. Did he even remember me?

  He was looking at me, and elsewhere, but I couldn’t tell that he could recognize me at all.

  “I was supposed to meet with a Levi.” I replied, my voice low and unbecoming. I cleared my throat, hoping the next time I spoke, I wouldn’t sound so prepubescent.

  “Right. That’s my friend. Anyway, you didn’t show up so that’s why I called you.”

  “I got your messages.” I understood that I had probably wasted his time and pissed him off, but he was pretty much yelling at me in those messages. He had no idea why I wasn’t there, so I didn’t think he had to be quite so harsh.

  “Good, so you know I am in a little bit of a bind here.” His jaw was tight, and his eyes narrowed as he looked down at me. I didn’t remember him being this much of an asshole that night. It seemed he was really going to act like he didn’t know me.

  Well, two can play at that game.

  “Yeah. The good selection isn’t here. It’s just down the highway.” I explained.

  “You have a car?” he asked. I shook my head.

  “Ride with me then, I don’t have all day.”

  He snapped. It made me frown, but I followed him anyway. Why did I do that?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tristan

  If I acknowledged it was her, we wouldn’t get any work done.

  As soon as I saw her in those tight pants, hugging her ass and every inch of her curves, with that loose shirt on, I was having trouble just staying upright. I told my eyes to stop wandering, but all I wanted to do was bend her over this table, taste her sweet pussy and then pound it until she was screaming.

  But I had no idea why she was being so hostile to me. It was obvious she had recognized me because she had dropped a fucking vase for crying out loud. One she wouldn’t let me help her clean up. I am very observant, I know she moved the lilacs from the front since this morning. I told her they were my favorite, she doesn’t seem forgetful, just a little unprofessional. I hadn’t done anything to her and she was treating me like flattened gum on the bottom of shoe.

  The ride was uncomfortably silent to the floral shop in the city. I guess she had partnered with them for bigger orders. I wanted to break the silence so many times, but I was afraid she would scream at me or something. She was clenching her hands so hard; the color was fading.

  “Is something bothering you?” I finally asked. I couldn’t take it, I was being attacked in secret or something. Did I look at her wrong? Some women can be sensitive about that. But we had already been very, very acquainted with each other so I doubt there was anywhere I could look that would actually bother her.

  “No.” She answered, her voice short and stern. I glanced at her, all I heard were her shallow inhales over the rev of the quiet engine.

  I can’t say I didn’t try. She directed me to the shop but that was it. Once I parked, I stopped her before we went inside.

  “Look, I am not one for games. I know you recognize me from the ball last month.” I trapped her between the store front and the passenger door. Her eyes widened as she looked up at me.

  Those baby blues eyes undid me, my anger softened as I looked down at her. She was so beautiful. Her eyes were so clear, with so much wonder. Just like that night. Her thin brows knitted as she looked through the sun at me. Her hair was like a chocolate, framing her face with wavy curls.

  “Don’t you remember?”
I smirked a bit. Knowing there was no way she could forget.

  “No. I remember.”

  “Well, is that why you’re being difficult? We can still get along and get this done. If you don’t want to…” maybe she was nervous about being around me again. Sometimes it happens, you have sex with someone you don’t know and then you see them again, wondering what to do. “We can just be friends, we don’t have to have sex again.”

  Her jaw jutted back in response as she scoffed. She held her hands up and backed away from the car.

  “Whoa, you are seriously sick!” I furrowed my brow in confusion.

  “Sick? How am I sick? Everyone has casual sex you know, even with strangers. Nothing wrong with that.” She stepped back, crossing her arms as if to shield herself from me.

  “There is a problem when you’re engaged!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tristan

  I stared back at her. Confused, very confused. Her cute button nose was scrunched up as she glared up at me, her eyes in narrow slits. I would be a lot more pissed at her accusation if she didn’t look so damned cute right now. And beautiful. The sunlight made her ethereal.

  “Sorry?” I finally managed to say something back. A smirk fought my lips, but I knew it would only make her angrier if I saw any humor in her utter confusion.

  “Don’t play dumb, it’s unbecoming.”

  A couple walked past us. We were to out in the open to be arguing like this. I was thinking of her reputation first. She was too angry to notice, but I did, and I was not that much of an asshole.

  “Come here.”

  I didn’t wait for her to agree, I took her slender wrist in my hand and pulled her to the first private place I saw. An alcove of a large brick building. No one could see us. Once inside, I turned to face her she was still fuming.

  “Look, Emilia, I don’t know what you think is going on here, but I’m not engaged.” I said with a simple, even tone. I thought it would convince her but, I guessed wrong.