The One Love Collection Page 14

  “Not sure how to break this to you, Abby,” he deadpans, “but we’ve already done it. Twice in fact.”

  “You know what I mean!” I swat his chest. Have I mentioned he has a fantastic body? Just in case I haven’t, I’ll say it again. The man is cut, and strong, and muscled. His arms are shrine-worthy. His abs are lickable. And his ass deserves an award for firmness.

  He runs his nose along my hair, inhaling me.

  I shudder. “Don’t distract me from talking.”

  “You’re distracting me,” he whispers.

  Moonlight slices through the blinds in his room, casting a silvery glow across the covers. “I’m serious. Where do we go from here?”

  He runs a hand gently through my hair. “Where do you want to go?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have an answer to how all this works. But I’m still in love with you.” It scares me to voice the depth of my feelings, but they’re real and true. My job matters, but so does my heart. With him, my heart is full.

  This man brings me joy, and I don’t just mean between the sheets. He makes me happy, and it’s not because he fills a void in my life. It’s not because I had a shitty childhood or a bad father—I had a good childhood and a great dad. And it’s not because I have a history of ex-boyfriends who treated me like crap. I have none of that in my life story. I’m not damaged goods. I’m the twenty-something woman who loves her family and who loves her life.

  Simon doesn’t fill a void. He makes my life richer.

  He nuzzles my neck. “Good. I’d have been devastated if you fell out of love with me after sex.”

  I can’t help but smile. “Well, I didn’t. Maybe I fell more in love.”

  He runs his hand along my ribs. “Same here,” he whispers, his voice smoky and sexy. Then he clears his throat. I tense momentarily, but there’s no need to worry when he says, “I want to figure this out. I want to be with you. I don’t want you to lose your job. I know it might be weird if you work for my family if we’re together like this, but it’s not weird to me. I want you to be mine, Abby. Maybe I’m a greedy bastard, but can I have you in every way?” He grins, a sweet, lopsided grin.

  I bring my index finger to my lips and adopt a pensive stare. “Hmm. So I can have the job and the guy? Sounds too good to be true.”

  “Maybe it’s our time for all good things.”

  “And does that mean next time I ask you to play pool or go bowling with my friends and me, you’ll go?”

  He drops a quick kiss on my lips. “I will. But part of the reason I pulled away in the cab after our first kiss was that I didn’t want to drag you down. Are you sure you don’t care that I’m the guy with the kid?”

  I roll my eyes. “Stop that. Stop saying that. Your daughter is not a deal-breaker. She’s part of why I love you. And you could never drag me down.”

  He runs his hand along my arm. “Then we’re doing this.” He takes a beat. “Which also means I should tell Hayden.” That’s one of the biggest steps of all and my heart thumps harder as I wait for him to say more. “I’m not saying she needs to know everything, obviously. She’s only five. But I want you in my life as more than her nanny, and that means I don’t want to hide how I feel for you.”

  “I don’t think I’m even capable of hiding how I feel anymore.” Then, because I can, because we’re stepping over the line that’s no longer a line, I kiss him.

  He’s mine now.

  He belongs to me.

  Morning sun streaks through the window as lips flutter across my forehead. A soft voice whispers in my ear, “Going for a run. Back soon. Sleep more, my love.”

  “Running,” I murmur with a shudder. “I choose sleeping.” I slide back into blissful slumber.

  When I wake up, I’m all alone. I stretch my arms over my head, savoring the new day and the chance to be with Simon—just us, all day long, being a couple. I peek at the clock. It’s nearly nine. I make my way out of bed and head to his adjoining bathroom. It’s all white with navy blue towels. Classy and masculine at the same time. The shower is huge by Manhattan standards, and I turn on the water, let it steam up, and then step under the showerhead. I use his body wash and his shampoo as I clean up, then turn off the water and wrap myself in a fluffy towel, with another for my hair.

  I spot a toothbrush on the sink with a Post-It on it. For you. That brings a huge smile to my face, and after I brush my teeth, I towel-dry my hair, hang up one towel, and grab a hair-tie from my purse. I check my phone to find a text from him.

  Simon: Leaving the park. Back in five minutes. I have good news!

  I write back, and tell him Can’t wait!

  Then I drop my phone in my purse, wishing I had thought to bring a change of clothes, but c’est la vie. I’ll head home shortly in last night’s dress, after Simon returns. I’ll change into something casual, and we’ll spend the day together.

  Or maybe I won’t head home.

  Maybe we’ll spend the day naked in bed.

  That possibility brings a wicked grin to my face.

  It only widens when a knock on the door sounds through the apartment. I head to the living room, adjusting the towel over my breasts, spotting Simon’s keys on the coffee table. He must have left them here, knowing I’d let him in when he returned from his run. Easier to run without keys, I guess.

  I’ve never seen him return from a morning run before, and the image of him hot and sweaty from exercise kind of revs me up. Then again, everything about him turns me on. As I reach the door, I decide to let him know just how much. I drop my towel and turn the handle, yanking open the door.

  My stomach craters.

  My blood rushes cold, and my jaw drops when Miriam arches a haughty eyebrow. I slam the door as embarrassment floods every single corner of my body.

  I run. I literally fucking sprint to Simon’s room, yank open a drawer in his bureau, tug on a T-shirt of his.

  But that’s no better. I have nothing to wear on the bottom. Fuck a duck.

  My heart bangs against my rib cage. The problem isn’t just Miriam. It’s the person with her. The little person. The one who matters. My lover’s daughter.

  I yank off his T-shirt, find my dress on the floor, pull it on, zip it up, and return to the entrance a minute later.

  Then I take a deep breath, hold my chin up high, and open the door again.

  “Abby!” Hayden calls out, but she doesn’t rush into my arms like she usually does. Instead, she tilts her head to the side, a confused look on her face as she asks, “Why are you here on a Sunday morning? And why were you naked when you opened the door?”

  I turn beet red, and the embarrassment multiplies. It digs roots. “I needed to take a shower,” I stammer. At least there’s some truth to that. “I didn’t expect to see you two.”

  Miriam stares daggers at me. “That much is patently obvious,” she says, then steps past me, bumping my shoulder as she strides into Simon’s home.

  “Where’s Simon?”

  “He’s out for a run,” I say.

  “I texted to tell him I was bringing Hayden a day early.”

  Hayden parks her hands on her hips. “Do you open the door naked a lot?”

  Cringing, I shake my head. “That was a mistake. I’m so sorry.”

  “It was weird,” Hayden says. “But I’m still glad to see you. I’m just glad you have clothes on now.”

  Miriam runs her hand down Hayden’s hair. “Don’t get used to seeing her, darling. Gabby probably won’t stick around.”

  “It’s Abby,” I correct.

  Miriam sneers. “Abby. Gabby. Whatever it is. I’ll be sure to let all my mommy friends know precisely how well you can be trusted around the fathers. Especially since I can’t imagine you’ll be here for much longer,” she says in a low hiss.

  The embarrassment morphs into something worse. Something that tastes like shame. This is not how I wanted Hayden to find out about her father and me—with me answering the door naked for her mother.

  Five se
conds later, there’s another knock, and Hayden rushes to the door, yanking it open.

  “I got the deal,” he shouts happily at the same time his little girl cries out, “Daddy!”

  His expression transforms in a second. Simon’s eyes swing around his apartment from his daughter, to his ex-wife, to me.

  This moment. This strangeness. This is exactly what I’ve dreaded, and it’s not because of his ex. It’s because I don’t want to be the woman who sleeps with her boss.

  Miriam breaks the awkward silence, and nails it.

  “Well, well, well,” she says to him. “Isn’t this a bit of a cliché?”

  23

  Simon

  I don’t raise my voice, though I want to. But yelling at Miriam will get me nowhere. Even when she lashes out once more after Abby leaves and Hayden retreats to her room to play quietly.

  Miriam pulls out a metal stool in the kitchen, parks herself on it, and shakes her head, as if she’s a judge and she’s oh-so disappointed in me. “Really, Simon? Banging the nanny?”

  I burn inside. Clenching my fists, I will my tone to keep steady. “Pot. Kettle,” I say quietly.

  She laughs haughtily. “I did not sleep with the babysitter.”

  “You slept with your coworker,” I say, then turn around, yank open the fridge, and grab the water pitcher. I pour a glass, reminding myself not to engage. This is what she’s always loved. The battle. I down half the glass, then set it on the counter and turn to her again, calmer than I was a few seconds ago.

  “But that’s the past. And it doesn’t matter,” I say coolly, because I don’t want to rehash what we hashed over and over at the time, and what led to our divorce when Hayden was two. What I want to know is why the fuck she’s here a day early. “Does your phone not work? Why didn’t you text me you were coming home a day early and bringing Hayden?”

  “Don’t you want your daughter with you as much as possible? Lord knows you fought me for that in the divorce.”

  I sneer. “You wanted that, too. You prefer it this way. Don’t pretend this isn’t what we both want.”

  She huffs. “I need to head to California tonight. I texted you this morning that I was bringing her by today.”

  “I didn’t see a note from you.”

  “Well, I’m sure it’s there. Go look.”

  I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Why not? You seem to doubt me. Or do you not want to look through your text messages right now because there might be naked shots of the babysitter on your phone?”

  My chest burns. I hate that I have to defend Abby right now. She did nothing wrong. “I’m not taking the bait, Miriam. I’m not even sure why you’re here. You dropped off Hayden. You can say goodbye.”

  Miriam crosses her arms and stares down her nose at me. “I’m here because I’m beginning to question whether this arrangement works so well after all—now that I know you have naked trollops running around your home and answering the door in front of our soon-to-be kindergartener.”

  I breathe in through my nostrils, keeping all my anger inside. “One, she’s not a trollop. Two, she’s Hayden’s nanny. Three, I’m allowed to be involved with whomever I choose to be involved with, and you and I both know there’s no stipulation in any paperwork anywhere that says otherwise.”

  “But there could be,” she says in a low hiss, the lobbyist viper in her rising to the surface. She knows how to fight, and that’s what she’s doing. That’s the only reason to explain the intensity of her reaction. Then again, I wouldn’t want to drop off Hayden at her home to be greeted by her naked beau. Even so, I won’t let her turn this into something more.

  I meet her cold stare. “Are you going to go there? You want to play dirty? We agreed when we split to do our best to keep it amicable for our daughter.”

  Miriam says nothing, just keeps her cool green gaze on me. I’m not going to let her win. I’m not going to roll over at this veiled attack that suggests I’m not fit to parent.

  She’s wrong.

  She’s dead wrong.

  I might have fallen for the one person I’m not supposed to have, but it’s only a line I shouldn’t cross if Abby and I can’t handle it. It’s only forbidden if we keep letting ourselves believe we’re doing something wrong. That together we’re bad, or we’ve committed some sort of societal treason.

  And, hell, maybe it is a cliché for a single dad to fall for the nanny. But fuck, it sure as hell isn’t a crime. And it certainly isn’t wrong.

  If loving that amazing, vibrant, talented, brilliant woman is a cliché, then I’ll gladly slap the sign on my chest. I’m a cliché, and I’m okay with it.

  With that, I make a decision. To move on completely. To shed the fears that have held me back—ones about lines and boundaries, and who I should and shouldn’t love. Loving Abby is the opposite of a mistake. It’s only good. Because she makes me so goddamn happy.

  “What are you grinning about?” Miriam asks.

  I shrug it off. “I’m just happy,” I say, speaking the plain truth. Even though I don’t know where Abby is, or how she’s feeling, or what Hayden thinks, I know I can work all that out. And even if Miriam makes veiled threats, I know they’re full of hot air.

  The more I let myself feel guilt and shame, the more those will dominate. But the sooner I embrace the utter fucking awesomeness of being this cliché, the happier I will be, and the better father I can be.

  Abby makes me happy. Abby makes me better. Abby fulfills me in a way that only a good woman can. I’ve just got to make sure she knows we’ll figure this out.

  Miriam heaves a sigh. “Then can you see fit to let your sitter know to put some clothes on before she answers the door? Otherwise, next time I won’t be so lenient about what’s happening in front of young, impressionable eyes.”

  I straighten my shoulders and nod. Not because I agree, but because it’s a helluva lot easier to let something go when you’re bursting with a crazy kind of joy.

  “Yes,” I say, then see her to the door. “Goodbye, Miriam.”

  I turn around, and now it’s time for me to sort out what to say to the two most important people in my life.

  Starting with the littlest one.

  24

  Abby

  Harper’s fiancé scrubs a hand over his jaw and shoots me a quizzical look.

  “What is it, Nick?” Harper demands, smacking her palms on the table. “Speak. You obviously want to say something?”

  He shakes his head, waves off Harper’s question, and takes another drink of his iced chocolate here at Peace of Cake, where Harper and I were separated at birth. The cake I’m tunneling through is the size of my head. Don’t judge. Who wouldn’t devour cake after the ex-wife of the man she loved had seen her naked as a jaybird? The kid, too. Let’s not forget the complete and utter embarrassment of my birthday suit parade.

  I cringe as I swallow a bite of the German chocolate cake.

  “You obviously have something on your mind,” Harper says to Nick. “And considering you’re the only guy at the table, you’re going to need to spit it out and give us some insight into the mind of the man.”

  I called Harper as soon as I left the apartment, requesting an emergency meeting, and in the last ten minutes I’ve spilled all to them. This is too big a bowl of mortification to wallow in alone. I need company. Desperately.

  “Say it. Tell us,” I urge Nick.

  “Honestly,” he says, running a hand through his hair as he shrugs. “I just can’t figure out why you didn’t look through the peephole first?”

  I squeeze my eyelids shut, but I don’t escape the sound of Harper shushing him.

  “What? It’s a legit question,” he says to her.

  I open my eyes and answer. “Simon had just texted me that he’d be back in five minutes. Plus, he had left his keys behind. On top of that, Miriam wasn’t supposed to bring Hayden home till tomorrow. It didn’t even cross my mind that it would be her,” I say with a sigh. “But the othe
r thing is, I was excited. I wanted to do something kind of . . .”

  “Naughty?” Harper supplies.

  “Yes. Naughty. Dirty. Enticing. Not immensely stupid, which it obviously was, and clearly could have been avoided had I the simple good sense to check in the peephole.” I toss my hands in the air. “But. . .IT DID NOT OCCUR TO ME.”

  Nick holds up his hands in surrender. “Question withdrawn.”

  I shoot him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s not you. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I just feel stupid. Like, put-a-webcam-on-me-and-watch-the-modern-female-in-the-city-do-completely-idiotic-things-in-the-name-of-new-love stupid.”

  Harper pats my hand and laughs lightly. “We all do stupid things when we’re in love.” She leans into Nick. “Right, babe?”

  He nods. “Except me. I’ve never done anything stupid. I’m always completely cool and confident.”

  “Oh right,” Harper says, nodding exaggeratedly. “Like the time you were jealous of Spencer’s cat when he touched my boobs?”

  I feign shock. “Harper, you let a pussycat feel you up?”

  She wiggles her eyebrows. “I sure did.” Then she drapes an arm around me. “Anyway, the point is, don’t worry too much about it. Let’s figure out what’s next.”

  “You’re right, but this whole morning was awful, the way Miriam looked at me and treated me. . .” I shudder, remembering how cruel and cold she was. “I can’t believe that woman is Hayden’s mother. Hayden is literally the best kid ever. I love that girl. I love her and adore her, and her mother is a witch.”

  Harper smirks like she has a secret up her sleeve.

  “What?”

  She glances at Nick then to me. “You love his kid.”