RYKER (Rogue Billionaires, Book Two)

by Olivia Chase

  Ethan

  Being closer to the source of my obsession will only make it worse.

  I knew, when I opened my mouth to say I’d be working from home, that was the case, but I couldn’t stop myself from saying it. Normally, I look forward to going to the office. Staying home makes me feel uneasy. Finding things to tell Wilson makes me feel uneasy, filling the silence makes me feel uneasy.

  But here I am, and I’m not entirely sure why.

  I told her to stay away from the downstairs area near my office. I can’t exactly work if the baby is crying. Ah, screw the baby. I can’t work knowing that Penelope is wandering around, swaying that sweet ass and sending me the softest, slightest of fragrances. Probably undetectable to most, but for me, it’s like blood to a shark. Still, I can’t afford that douche-y Robert guy coming around here.

  If he danced in his underwear for her when he was a kid, what would he do now for her attention?

  That’s how it starts, conversation on the steps. Smiles. Before you know it, she’s inviting him in when I’m not here, and no way, I can’t have that. Why can’t I have it? Because I don’t want guys I don’t know around Lilly Belle? Because I don’t want my nanny to have a social life, or because I want her all to myself?

  “Looks like the young lady has been banished from the west wing.” It’s Wilson standing at the doorway to my office, folded newspaper under his arm.

  “Banished? Wilson, you know as well as I do that I can’t have any distractions while I’m working. It’s a big enough house. Don’t give me that shit.”

  He ignores my cussing, the way he always has. “You don’t want them near you,” he says in that tone. That all-knowing fatherly tone I hate. Love. Hate. “However, you can’t act like a beast in your own castle either, demanding that the princesses remain locked and out of your sight. They’re free individuals.”

  “Yes. Yes, I can, Wilson, and that’s what I’m going to do. It’s my house.”

  “Oh,” he says, eyes wide with mock surprise. “I forgot. Your house.” Then, he walks off silently, leaving me in a swirling mist of my own thoughts. I hate when Wilson does that—talks to me like I’m a moron. I wish he’d go bother someone else. Then, I remember…I’d have no one if he did.

  After a few days, I’m working in my office, going over numbers when I hear the refrigerator door open nearby. “Wilson?” I call out. I could use a tall glass of cold water.

  A gurgly goo-goo sound is my only reply. Knowing that most babies cannot come down the stairs and open refrigerator doors at nearly eight months, I wait for Penelope to explain why she’s down here. “It’s me, Mr. Townsend.”

  “Lurking around, breaking rules, are we?” I step out of my office and stand in the kitchen doorway. She’s wearing pink leggings with clouds on them, her hair up in a messy ponytail, looking as adorable as ever. The leggings are a mistake. They outline every curve on her lower body, her toned calves, and that ass I can’t get out of my head. Now I know I won’t be finishing my work for today, and that pisses me off. The baby sits in a bouncy chair with a wire frame on top of the counter.

  “I’m sorry. Lilly Belle needed a snack, and we’re out upstairs. I should’ve asked Wilson to get me some before he left. Sorry.”

  The baby stops bouncing in her chair to examine me. I feel awkward that she doesn’t know me very well, even though that’s entirely my fault.

  “I’m sure I asked you to keep the baby upstairs while I’m working, didn’t I?” I say, unrelenting.

  Closing a drawer shut, Penelope lets out a frustrated sigh. “You can’t keep a baby locked away, Mr. Townsend. And it’s Lilly Belle. You should try saying her name. She’s your niece. She was hungry, so I’m looking for the baby crackers.”

  “Are babies supposed to eat crackers at this age?”

  “Yes, Mr. Townsend. They’re not super crunchy or anything. They dissolve on the tongue and are perfectly safe.” She continues to rummage through the cabinets while Lilly Belle continues to stare at me like I’m the beast Wilson said I was.

  I walk up to Penelope and peer into the cabinets with her. I know what crackers she’s talking about. They’re inside of a gallon zipped bag in the back row. So close to her, I smell her scent wafting off her skin. It’s an earthy, feminine scent, way better than all that fake shit women put on. Suddenly, my blood races through my body. I’m immediately hard.

  Slowly, she backs up, aware that we’re so close. I can almost hear her heart beating through her skin and shirt. Her hazel eyes flash at me, with flecks of gold, as she holds her breath. I reach in and pull out the zipped bag. “Is this what you’re looking for?” I hold it near her chest.

  If the baby weren’t here, I might throw her against the counter and suck her tits before fucking her hard.

  Clutching the bag close, she nods without a word, staring at me as though she’s heard my thoughts.

  “Ah, the sassy one has lost all ability to talk back. Maybe I should stand close to you more often.” I arch an eyebrow and then move over to Lilly Belle, shoving my hands in my pockets and staring at her. She’s actually a really pretty baby. My sister and her husband did good.

  “You can, um…” Penelope clears her throat. “You can pick her up, you know.”

  “I can see her from here.”

  “She’s not going to bite you.” Penelope laughs, reaching into the box and pulling out an octagon shaped pale wafer that looks like it would taste awful and stale. “In fact, why don’t you give it to her?”

  I know it’s all innocuous. Giving a baby a cracker isn’t going to bond us everlastingly. But for some reason, I hesitate. Penelope stares at me with the softest of smiles on her face. The baby stares at me, too, like give me the damn cracker already. I know I said they needed to keep their distance, and they do, but I don’t want Penelope to think that I’m completely heartless. I want her to know that I’m sensible, practical, that it’s not a good idea to form bonds that will only be broken later on, but for some reason, I want to see her smile right now.

  Taking the cracker, I hand it to Lilly Belle who slowly reaches out, big blue eyes fixated on my face, and snatches it out of my hand. Except she doesn’t eat it right away. She stares at me and gurgles. “Look at her. She likes you,” Penelope laughs. “Pick her up, Mr. Townsend. You’ll see she’s really yummy.”

  I’ve never picked up a baby in my life. From the moment Lilly Belle arrived here, I’ve had someone, whether Wilson or the cleaning lady, Luz, or one of the fired nannies to hold her. I’ve treated her like a nuclear explosive.

  But I do know how to compartmentalize. I know how to keep feelings separate from affecting my everyday life. I’m a professional.

  I can do this.

  Suddenly, Lilly Belle throws the cracker on the floor and cries out, laughing and giggling and acting totally loopy.

  “Why did she do that?” I ask. I’m not used to anyone rejecting my gifts, even if the gift is a bland cracker.

  Penelope laughs hard. She loves seeing me confused and befuddled by the tiny troll. “She must have the midnight crazies. Plus, I think she’s just surprised that you’re here, looking at her…” She shifts to pick up the cracker, eyes pausing on me, as she slowly makes her way back up.

  The filthy areas of my mind imagine her doing numerous things in that position. Not with the baby present, of course, but my body wants what it wants, and suddenly, the hardness is back, as I imagine her on her knees, bent over. That door better be locked tonight if I decide to go check on it.

  The baby’s coos bring me back front and center, and my hard cock melts away. Now I’m looking at my niece pumping her arms and legs like an energetic doll.

  “Oh, yeah. She’s definitely smitten with you. You should pick her up.”

  “Some other time,” I say, reaching out to hold the baby’s little hand instead. Look at those fingers. So little. So chubby. Wrapped around my finger which looks so big next to hers. I wish I could hold her, but I can’t. This is already too much
as it is.

  “How did you get so good at caring for kids? I mean, you’re practically a kid yourself,” I ask.

  She scoffs through a smile. “I’m twenty-two next month. And it’s because I have younger siblings. I always had to take care of them to help my mom out. I guess I’m used to it.”

  “Like second nature.” I continue to shake Lilly Belle’s little fist. She’s enthralled and watching me intently. I don’t feel as uncomfortable with her stares anymore. I feel like she might actually like me, as Penelope says.

  “Yes.” Penelope comes over and reaches to take Lilly Belle’s other hand. Now we’ve formed a chain and all we would need is for me to take Penelope’s hand and form a circle. “You know, Wilson was right. There are more sides to you.”

  “Wilson is an old fool,” I say, thinking how I’m going to break his kneecaps for talking nicely about me. “You can’t trust him.”

  Then, suddenly remembering where I am, where we are, how these two strangers shouldn’t even be in my life at all right now, I drop the baby’s hand and step away. They shouldn’t be down here. I shouldn’t be here. I should be working, making sure our numbers align and approving new sales campaigns for next month.

  Penelope studies me. I know she must think the worst, and part of me wants so badly to show her that I’m not that way all the time. I can be lots of things—funny, clever—all the things nobody associates Townsend Industries with being, all the things my employees and competitors don’t know about me, but it makes no sense to try and impress the nanny. What is so special about this girl that I feel the need for her to like me? It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter.

  Nor does it align with who I am and it needs to stop now.

  That’s why I wanted them upstairs, out of my sight.

  At that moment, the doorbell rings. It’s late. Who the hell would be calling at this hour?

  Penelope

  Ethan gets up to answer the door while I let go of the breath I’m holding.

  We were about to have a moment, weren’t we? Because it sure felt like it. Even Lilly Belle seems to agree with her questioning eyebrows and pucker. It’s late, and I should escape upstairs, but I’m dying to know who’s at the door. I’m nosy that way. If it’s a woman here to see Ethan, I have to admit, I’m going to hate it.

  It’s not like Ethan is anything to me but my employer, but I can’t help but feel that there’s more there. Varnish has hardened over his inner self, and it just needs cracking open. But should I be the one to crack it? I don’t see how things between us could ever work. Yes, it was nice, even for just two minutes, to feel like we were almost a family, but that doesn’t mean I should allow myself to fall for him.

  Scooping Lilly Belle into one arm and the bouncy seat into the other, I start heading upstairs while Ethan opens the front door with a scoff. I make my way up the stairs slowly, so I can eavesdrop on whoever is there.

  Sounds like a woman alright, talking right after Ethan mumbles something, but he’s not happy to see her. “Ethan, darling, if I don’t visit you at this hour, I’ll never find you, that’s why. Please let me in.”

  My stomach is in knots. He wouldn’t be dating an older woman, would he? Like, way older? Suddenly, I realize how little I know about him, except what I’ve read in the tabloids, heard from Wilson, or experienced myself in the bedroom.

  “Mother, get in your town car and leave. Just go.”

  His mother. And that’s the way he talks to her? Terrible!

  “You can’t keep her away from me,” the woman says, “It’s not right. She’s our granddaughter. Let me in this instant.”

  “It’s that easy, huh? Just demand it and it becomes so? Doesn’t work that way. You had your chance, now leave.” Ethan’s voice is icier than ever. A thousand times worse than he is with me. If this is Ethan when he’s upset, then the way he speaks to me is pretty civil.

  If he doesn’t want to let her, there must be a reason. Though I think it’s awful—just awful that he won’t let her.

  “You are ridiculously stubborn, you know that?” Mother Townsend hisses angrily. “I’m prepared to adopt her. You know you’re too busy for a child. You don’t even have a wife, for Pete’s sake. Now, move before I break down this door.”

  “Like hell you will. I can’t believe you showed up here at this time, and drunk, no less, but some things never change. Get this through your skull—you will never adopt Lilly Belle,” he grits his teeth. “A nice couple who will spend time with her, raise her right, will do all the things you never did.”

  Wait, what? Ethan won’t raise her?

  “I have the money, I have the home…”

  “You have nothing she needs. Never show up at my house again, you hear me? Now, go.” He shuts the door on the begging woman while I stand on the stairs feeling like I got punched in the lower intestines.

  A nice couple will raise her? Did he mean himself with possibly someone else in the future? The whole conversation has left a metallic taste in my mouth, and that’s when I realize I was clenching my jaw so hard, biting through my lip, that I’ve drawn blood.

  Ethan spins around in a huff, the face of a haunted man in place of the gentler one who spoke to me in the kitchen.

  “Are you all right?” I ask.

  He stops cold in his tracks and cranes his neck down to look up at me near the top of the stairs. “Were you listening the whole time? That’s unprofessional, not to mention insensitive, Miss Wallach.”

  “I’m sorry. I was leaving, actually, but your voices were rather loud. Don’t you have custody of Lilly Belle?” I ask, totally outside of my business.

  “Time for you to go upstairs,” he deadpans.

  He’s not going to answer my question, that much is clear. He’s fuming and rattled from the encounter, and he’s not the type to open up and share his thoughts to feel better. It was stupid of me to ask in the first place, but at least my question is out there.

  The man has ice water running through his veins to treat his own flesh and blood this way, yet I’m still checking on him. He should be grateful that someone cares. I want to tell him all this, tell him that family is the most important thing in this world, and he should be more respectful of his mother, but then I remember my own mother, and the mortgage and bills needing to be paid, and I keep my fat mouth shut.

  Ethan points at me, or Lilly Belle, rather. “Keep her away from me. I won’t tell you again.”

  I don’t agree, I don’t nod, nothing. I just storm upstairs and into Lilly Belle’s room, feed her the bottle, and rock my anger away. Within minutes, the baby is asleep. I lay her down, cover her with her light blanket, and hope to God that this poor creature gets raised better than Ethan did.

  At night, I can’t sleep.

  I lie in bed worrying over the things Ethan and his mother said to each other. Did he mean that he would be putting Lilly Belle up for adoption? Is my job as nanny a temporary one, not because Ethan will soon take care of the baby himself or because he has a girlfriend who’ll soon move in to raise her, but because he’s going to be getting rid of her, like an abandoned puppy at a homeless shelter?

  I need answers.

  The thought of that happening to Lilly Belle forces a wave of tears into my eyes. As much as I feel that Mother Townsend has a right to see her granddaughter, I also got a sense of the kind of woman she was. Something about her demeanor was strange and makes me believe that perhaps Ethan has good reason not to want to be around her.

  He mentioned she’d been drinking. Perhaps she is an alcoholic—whatever it is, the situation is terribly sad.

  Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe putting Lilly Belle for adoption is the right thing to do, and a nice couple will take her in. It’s just so unfair. My siblings and I were blessed with a wonderful mother and father who are still around, yet the little creature in the room next to mine, sleeping while moons and stars dance over her head to the tune of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star gets a beautiful big house filled with
icy air.

  Why is Ethan so cruel to everyone? I thought he had a softer, gentler, nicer side, but if the man can’t even bring himself to speak nicely to the woman who brought him into this world, then I shudder to think how he’ll speak to a wife, a girlfriend, any woman who loves him.

  I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had a job like this where I’ve become emotionally invested. I’ve never had a problem leaving a home when the job is done, but this case is special. We have a baby here who needs a home, needs a loving heart, but it hurts too much to stay. Even with the pay increase, I am not getting paid enough to deal with this torment. Even if he quadrupled my salary tonight, it still wouldn’t be enough.

  That’s when it hits me that I’m not still here for the money.

  I’m here because I care for that sleeping angel. I care about what happens to her. I worry that if I leave, everything will go to shit for her. I’m the only good thing going on in her life right now, and this is a quandary I’ve never been in before.

  Then, there’s Ethan. I find myself caring for him, too. But why, though? He’s callous, he turns warm and cold like a faucet, and he’s clearly a dick. Take that back. Scratch that. It doesn’t feel right to say that about the man who smiled at Lilly Belle and me in the kitchen, who held me tightly the night that we slept together. He didn’t have to do that. He could’ve walked right out, but he stayed a while. Made sure I fell asleep then helped the baby fall back asleep, in order to not wake me.

  There is a softer side.

  He must be in pain, then.

  There’s only one reason a man would speak to his mother that way, and it has to be because of his past, his upbringing. Again, the benefit of the doubt. I’ll stay. I’ll stay only because I care to see how this ends up. I don’t like all the rules, or the restrictions on where I can walk in the house, or the absence of a social life, but I’ve already got both my feet in the pool, so I may as well go for a swim.