by Jody Holford
“You definitely know my weak spot,” she said quietly, thinking of Charlie.
“I figure it’s because we have it in common.”
…
Adam’s car was in the driveway when she arrived home. She hoped he wasn’t planning on heading out—a.k.a. into work—since she was here. Most of the time he was respectful of her days off, but if he needed to go into the office at any given moment, he didn’t mind asking. Why would he? Not like you ever say no. Because, in her mind, saying no meant letting Charlie down.
When she didn’t hear the television or talking, she wondered if Charlie was feeling okay. He’d bounced back pretty quickly the other day, but maybe he was lying down. Megan snorted. Yeah, right. Maybe Adam had arranged a playdate. Though on the days his dad was able to be home—particularly full days—Charlie usually stayed glued to Adam’s side. Her boss might be on the demanding side and a definite workaholic, but he loved his son and made sure Charlie knew it.
Megan set her subtle and sexy new Kate Spade on the side table in the foyer and slipped off her shoes. The house was large, especially for two people. Adam had purchased it after his divorce. He’d wanted a place where Charlie had room to grow and bring home friends. He didn’t want his son in a crowded one-room apartment, he’d explained in the first of two interviews she’d had for the job. He’d had very particular thoughts on what his son would and wouldn’t have in life. And though he’d never elaborated on that a few years ago, Megan got the impression Adam had lacked all the things he wanted for his son.
When Megan walked into the kitchen, she came to a halt. Like she’d stepped in wet cement, her feet refused to move. Adam sat at the kitchen table, laptop open, wearing a T-shirt and chatting on the phone. Now that she’d seen him without a shirt, it was so much easier to see the definition of his chest, his strong, sculpted biceps. How was she only just noticing this? He’s usually in a suit and tie. Which held its own allure, if she were being honest. You’re not. Stop being honest. This is your boss. Be professional.
He saw her and gave a small wave. When they’d first met, Megan wondered if she’d be able to work for him without falling for his good looks and the kind way he had with Charlie. Then his Type-A personality showed itself, and with his lists of dos and don’ts, she’d quickly realized it wouldn’t be a problem. Add to that the disdain in his voice when he spoke of marriage or romance and any fire that could have burned was quickly extinguished.
When she finally met the one, he wouldn’t be a workaholic. His family—starting with his wife—would come before anything else. She cared about her career as well, but it wasn’t everything. Her parents had both loved teaching, but it was always clear they loved each other more. Even when Adam was home, his mind was often elsewhere. She might not know her boss well, but he wore the damage of his ex-wife leaving as clearly as his suits and ties.
“Sure. How about you just don’t let my son work the bar?” Adam said, gesturing for Megan to sit down. He had papers spread out around him and what looked like an empty cup beside his computer.
“Okay. Thanks, Dec. I’ll see you in a bit.”
He hung up and smiled, almost tentatively, at Megan. Suddenly, and oddly, nervous, she sat across from him and folded her hands together. Unfamiliar butterflies stretched their wings in her stomach, making themselves known.
“Charlie’s with Declan?” Stupid question, since he just said so. Still, not typical.
“He is. I wanted to discuss some things with you and thought it better that we have privacy.”
Megan’s brows pushed together. “Okay,” she said, drawing out the word and tightening her interlocked fingers. He wouldn’t make her leave early, would he? He wouldn’t do that to Charlie.
“Can I get you something to drink?” He began to pile his loose papers on top of one another.
Not once in the time she’d worked for Adam had he offered to get her a drink. Or anything else. Even last night, his offer to fold the laundry had been random. And it was his and Charlie’s laundry.
“I’m fine.” Megan still needed her job and paycheck. She had a small stash, but it would go quickly without an income. Besides that, she absolutely could not leave without saying goodbye to Charlie. Unease crept up her throat.
“All right. Then perhaps we can just start our discussion,” he said, closing the laptop.
Panic took flight in her stomach, a small bird winding up for a hard flight. “Great.”
“You’ve offered to find me a replacement for Charlie,” he began.
“Yes.” For August! Had he found one himself?
“I’ve been thinking about that. About what Charlie needs and how different his needs are from when I hired you years ago.”
She unfolded her hands and pressed her palms flat on the smooth wood of the table. “Okay.”
Adam cleared his throat. “I think both his and my needs have changed. I’m happy that you’ve achieved your goal. I know how badly you want to be a teacher, but selfishly, I’m sad to see you go.”
Sad? But that’s a human emotion. He had to mean for Charlie. Or maybe you’ve misjudged him and he has more of a heart than you thought.
“I’m sad to leave, but we always knew this was temporary.” Which made it not one tiny bit easier.
He tapped the cover of his laptop softly. “I did. But I hadn’t given any thought to how Charlie might feel at having another woman walk out of his life.”
Her heart curled into a ball. Wow. Talk about aiming a canon directly at her chest. “As I’ve told you, I really don’t want to just walk out. My role in his life might change, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be part of it. I really do love Charlie, Adam. You know that.”
Adam glanced down at the paper he’d just stacked in front of him. Neat columns with notes in each were penned on the top page. “I do.”
Raising his eyes, he held her gaze in a way that made the table all but disappear between them. Megan sucked in a breath. “He and I both know you love him and he loves you. That’s what Charlie needs. He needs more than a nanny. He needs a mom. A stepmom. Someone who will stay. For good.”
Coherent thought trickled out of Megan’s brain. Was he asking—? No. No! No way. Holy shit. Was he asking her to stay and be in his and Charlie’s lives permanently? At nineteen, she had considered Adam Klein old. Plus, he was a bitter, divorced father. She’d always told herself she didn’t find him attractive. But apparently she’d known how to lie to herself with strong conviction.
Adam shifted the laptop aside and leaned on his forearms. Megan’s eyes traveled over and up until his gaze locked on hers, and she couldn’t look anywhere else.
“Reece sees her son about four times a year. He deserves more than that. If I hire another nanny, we’re going to find ourselves in the same situation eventually. What Charlie needs is a woman who will be a permanent fixture in our home.”
Adam sighed. “I need a wife.”
The room tipped sideways, like a cartoon house. Her feet were still firmly on the ground, but everything around her was crooked with a blurry little haze. She was spinning and couldn’t stop. She wanted to be a wife. She’d always wanted to be a wife and a mom and a teacher. But this? It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. She was supposed to meet someone, have him fall madly in love with her, then realize his life wasn’t complete without knowing she’d be his. Megan would return these sentiments, and they’d plan a beautiful wedding while mapping out all of the quirky, romantic details of their happily ever after. She loved Charlie. And Adam? Well…Adam…her thoughts went to how wonderful he was with Charlie. And those abs.
“Megan? Are you all right?” His voice sounded far away.
Adam rushed around the table and dropped to his knees in front of her, turning her so she was facing him in the chair. Oh boy. Definitely not what she’d imagined all of the times she’d dreamed of this moment. Yes, there’d be a gorgeous man down on one knee—her brain did a quick flashback to his abs and the way sometimes, when he
wasn’t thinking too hard, a small smile tipped the corner of his lips. Yes, there’d be a man who loved children the way Adam loved Charlie, but the man who asked her to marry him would also love her. And he’d have flowers. Candles. Poetic words that told her how much he couldn’t live without her.
So not Adam’s style. She’d never thought about his style before. Her focus was always Charlie.
He took her hand, and sparks flew up her arms, a flame to a wick.
“Megan.”
He came into focus, kneeling in front of her, inky strands of hair falling across his forehead. Without thinking, she reached out and brushed a few from his face in slow motion. He inhaled sharply, and when she lowered her hand, they both remained still. Just staring. Breathing. In and out. That was all she could manage.
“Do you need a doctor?”
He was worried about her. “What?” Her voice came out as a whisper.
“You’ve gone pale, and you’re shaking.” He pressed a hand to her forehead, and it didn’t help to settle her thoughts or her racing pulse.
“I’m fine. Please back up. I’m fine,” she said. She needed a moment. A deep breath that didn’t taste like Adam’s spicy, sexy cologne. A second to believe what was happening was actually happening. For five years, she’d never let her thoughts stray down this road. They were night and day. Black and white. Polar opposites. He wouldn’t even let her read Charlie the fairy tales she loved because he didn’t want his son to have unrealistic expectations about life. He was the haughty king to her innocent princess. There was no way something between them could work. But the sensations trickling over his skin, just from a casual touch, said otherwise.
Adam stood but pulled a chair over and sat in front of her, watching for signs she might lose it again. Don’t. Pull yourself together. She squared her shoulders and found her voice.
“You want to get married?”
His harsh bark of a laugh cleared any residual cobwebs. “Want? No. But I’m willing to do anything for my son, and I’ve decided a union between myself and a nurturing, loyal, and stable woman will be best for him.” He paused for a second, then added, “In addition to this, I think it will increase my chances of partnership. But of course, that’s secondary to Charlie’s needs.”
Megan scrunched her forehead. Partnership? A union? That sounded oddly…calculated. Was he calling her nurturing, loyal, and stable as a compliment? Those were nice, but he could throw in sexy or hot and it wouldn’t hurt her feelings.
“I think, as you know us best and my time is beyond limited, it would make things far simpler to have you vet the prospects.”
The air seemed to disintegrate around her, and her mouth went dry. “I’m sorry?”
Taking a deep breath of his own, Adam kept his voice even, as if he were explaining something that was already clear.
“I don’t have time to date in the typical fashion, and if I’m honest, I don’t want to. I don’t want to spend extra time away from my son or work to waste time with unsuitable matches. I’m not interested in romancing a woman or waiting for feelings to develop. I want a companion for myself, but the key is finding someone who will be there for Charlie. I have a list of things I need in a spouse. You can find candidates that meet the requirements, saving me time, because I’ll only meet with those you feel are a strong fit.”
The dryer buzzed from down the hall. She stood automatically to go grab the laundry, a robot on autopilot. He grabbed her wrist, confusing her even more.
“You don’t have to get that.”
She stared at him, then looked at how his fingers—strong and narrow—encircled her wrist. “I need…I… I need a minute.”
He nodded, released her, and she hurried down the hallway, leaving Adam sitting in the kitchen. As she transferred shirts, shorts, and socks into the basket, his words jumped around in Megan’s head. Candidates. Prospects. Suitable companion. What the actual hell?
She carried the basket on one hip and went back to the kitchen. Maybe he wouldn’t be there. Maybe she’d caught Charlie’s fever, gone into a state of delusion, and would find she was alone in Adam’s house making up weird stories. But no. He sat right where she left him.
His eyes eagerly scanned hers when she came closer. He stood to take the basket from her arms, and for reasons she couldn’t fathom, she held on tight. Like if she let go, reality would go with it.
“So? Will you help me? You’ll be well compensated for any extra time, I assure you.”
“You want a wife.”
He cringed at the word. “Yes.”
“And you want me to find her.”
He tugged on the hamper, and it came free of her clutches, scratching her fingers in the process. “Yes.”
Megan was right. Reality and reason slipped right out of her hands with the fresh-smelling clothes.
Chapter Four
He knew how to close a deal. Giving Megan the physical space she clearly needed, he set the laundry hamper on one of the chairs and went to get them both a drink. It irritated him to see his hand shake a bit as he poured two glasses of water. After being awake most of the night thinking about this, he knew he was proposing an excellent situation. He hadn’t expected her assumption that he’d meant her as a wife. Taking a moment to look at her from the other side of the room, his stomach cramped.
Megan was trim but more athletic than skinny, with generous curves. Her hair hung over her back, a long mane of beautiful locks. She was a lovely looking girl. Or as Dec—the jackass—would say, fucking hot. She had a smile that made a man forget what he’d been thinking or talking about. Which was precisely the reason she was unsuitable for what he was offering. He didn’t want love—he wanted an arrangement. A mutually beneficial relationship that would give Charlie and himself long-term stability.
Megan was the kind of girl a man got down on one knee for. The kind a man could fall so deep in love with that it would bring him to his knees. And he was never going there again. At almost thirty-two, he didn’t want or need romance. Charlie’s nanny would wither away without it. She needed to experience what life had to offer. He hated knowing she’d experience the downside as well, because there was no way not to. But it wouldn’t be from him.
Taking both glasses and a deep breath, he walked back and passed her one. She took it like a crash victim—face blank and gestures rote. He’d expected her to be surprised, but her reaction was a bit much. Was his suggestion really so out of the box? Did she think the idea of finding someone to marry him and stay married to him was so completely ludicrous she’d lost the power of speech?
Or was it because she thought he’d meant her? Did the idea repulse her so much? He frowned. They were a bad match, but he was hardly a troll. He stayed in shape, took care of his son, knew how to make a decent meal. He was a pretty good catch. Sure, he didn’t have a great track record, but that only proved this route was more practical.
“Would you like to sit down again while I explain?”
She took the water, drank down half of it, and then nodded. Moving the basket once again, he sat in front of her, ready to pitch himself. He’d thought about this a lot last night, lying awake in his bed, realizing he missed having someone on the other side of it. He missed talking to someone as he drifted off to sleep or listening to a woman do the same. When his thoughts had moved to work, he realized the last three people promoted to partners had spouses. Adam wondered if he could meet all of his and Charlie’s needs with one woman.
“I think you were pretty clear. But why don’t you just get one of your friends to set you up with someone? Like normal people do,” she said, staring at him. She held her water in both hands.
Adam took a small sip from his glass to ease the dryness of his throat, then put it on the table. “I’m not looking to meet someone, fall in love, and live happily ever after, Megan. I need a wife. A partner. I want a full-time, loving mother for my son. Even if I go the online route, I have no time or inclination to set up profiles and browse through pr
ospects. You’re leaving in just over two months. I need to maximize my time as efficiently as possible, and partaking in ridiculous dating rituals only to find out we don’t connect is a waste of everyone’s time.”
She scowled. “Ridiculous dating rituals?”
Adam shrugged. “Yes. Think of it like the smart kid skipping grades. I know everything I need to and choose to forgo that piece of it. If you find candidates, I’ve cut down the job considerably. I don’t have time to split my focus right now. If I can close the next couple of deals for my firm, I have an extremely high chance of being named the next associate partner. That’s what’s best for Charlie and me, so it’s all I want to focus on.”
She didn’t look impressed by this information, but clearly she had no idea what it took to get where he had by his age. Of course, at her age, he’d believed in love, too. Even as Reece had been doing her best to rip his heart out of his chest and stomp on it. He didn’t want Megan to experience that, but he knew, if she had, she’d see how enlightened his approach was.
“It’s one thing to help an employer, I don’t know, say, pick out a tie. A gift for his secretary. But picking out your wife? I don’t think I’m the right person for that job.”
She was wrong. His plan was perfect and the most efficient way to pursue this angle.
“Why? You said yourself, why don’t I get my friends to set me up, right?”
She nodded, the furrowing of her brow suggesting she didn’t trust what he was going to say.
“It’s sort of like that. If you thought two friends suited each other, you’d try and set them up. This is no different. You’re finding women who you think would be a good match for me. They’re just not your friends.” He could not date one of Megan’s friends. He didn’t even know her friends, but how incredibly awkward would that be? Sorry I can’t marry you because you’re too Disney Princess for me, but hey, if any of your friends have your kindness and my thoughts on happily ever after, let me know.