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His Baby Agenda

Год написания книги
2019
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“Time for dinner, Conner,” Kingsley said. “Let’s go find Mrs. Tillman while Gabi gets settled into her office. I’ll be back shortly to give you the tour.”

She nodded. “I have some boxes in my car that I need to bring in.”

“I’ll help once I get Conner settled.”

“Bye,” Conner said as he and Kingsley left the office. They headed down the hallway, Conner running ahead of Kingsley, as he was wont to do.

And when they entered the kitchen, he found Mrs. Tillman putting Conner’s plate on the large farmhouse-style table in the corner of the breakfast nook. It had a built-in padded bench, which Conner scrambled up onto.

Kingsley usually made it a point to eat with Conner when he was home, but tonight their schedule was slightly messed up. So Conner would be eating alone. Kingsley planned to dine with Gabi tonight to bring her up to speed on all the details of Conner’s schedule. And because he wanted to get to know her again.

“Do you still need me to stay until bedtime?” Mrs. Tillman asked.

“Yes. I want to give Gabi time to settle in. Did you have a chance to introduce yourselves?”

“We did. I put her suitcase in her bedroom and after Conner’s bath I will unpack it.”

“That’s okay, Mrs. Tillman,” Gabi said from the doorway, a large brown box in her arms. “I can do it. Kingsley, do you have a hand truck I can use to bring my other office boxes in?”

“No, but I can help you carry them,” he said.

“I don’t want to disturb you,” she said. “I can make a couple of trips.”

She turned away and he realized it was too late—she’d already disturbed him and there was no coming back from that.

“Go on, Kingsley. I’ll watch the scamp finish his dinner,” Mrs. Tillman said.

“Is that okay, Con?”

“Yes.”

Kingsley ruffled his son’s hair and got to his feet, following after Gabi.

Three (#ulink_83fc4372-c0c6-52cf-8e7d-85712d0678ea)

“Everything Is Awesome” was blasting from the room next to hers. She had an idea that Conner was in there, but she doubted he was alone. She’d done a good job of avoiding being alone with Kingsley. But she had to admit it had been harder than she’d expected.

He’d followed her to her car and if Hunter hadn’t called just then perhaps she would have found herself on the patio under the moonlit sky having dinner with this complicated man from her past. But Hunter had saved her from that. She’d escaped into the house and then into a shower and avoided Kingsley for the rest of the night.

But at 6:00 a.m. everything didn’t feel awesome. As the nanny, she knew she needed to check on Conner. So she jumped out of bed and walked into his room. He was sitting quietly in his bed with a book open on his lap.

She turned the volume down on his radio before walking over to his toddler bed.

“Morning, kiddo. What are you doing?”

“Reading. Peri likes it if we start the morning quiet,” he said softly.

“I’m not Peri,” Gabi said, sitting on the edge of his bed and glancing over at the book. It was a picture book—One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish by Dr. Seuss. She smiled as she noticed that he was rubbing his finger over the pictures and not really reading. But then he was only three, a little young for true reading.

“Do you like this one?” she asked.

“Yes. Daddy took me fishing in summer.”

“Did you catch a red or blue fish?”

He laughed at her. “Nope. They were brown.”

She ruffled his hair. “They usually are.”

His room was neat and she noticed that someone had laid his clothes out for the day on a chair facing the window. She suspected that Conner had opened the curtains because they were only parted nearest the floor.

“What do you want to do today?”

He looked up at her, and it was odd seeing the innocence in a pair of eyes that reminded her very strongly of Kingsley. King had never been that innocent. Never.

“Can we go to the beach? Daddy and I walk in the morning after breffest.”

She smiled and nodded. “Where do we eat breakfast?”

“In the kitchen with Mrs. Tillman. I have to finish my book first,” he said.

“Want to read it to me?” she asked.

He nodded. “Uncle Hun taught me a rap.”

Hunter was seemingly full of surprises. She chastised herself for thinking that. To be honest, she’d never really known Hunter, just his reputation, which prior to Stacia’s death had been one of a charming Romeo, playful, sexy and fun. It was only afterward that she’d started to have doubts about him.

“I’d love to hear it.”

Conner grinned up at her and then pushed the covers down and stood up on his bed. “Gimme a beat.”

She had no idea how to beatbox. She wasn’t too sure she’d have the nerve to ever try doing this if her audience was anyone other than a toddler, but he was waiting for her and she didn’t want to let him down.

She made some beat noises and heard laughter from the door behind her.

“Finally we find the one thing that Gabi can’t do,” Kingsley said from the doorway. His hair was damp, presumably from his shower, and he had on a pair of faded jeans and a faded Buffalo Bills T-shirt. His feet were bare.

“Daddy, can you gimme a beat?”

Kingsley nodded. Gabi pretended not to notice how his shirt clung to his thickly muscled arms or the way he walked over to the bed.

Conner started jumping and rapping Dr. Seuss’s timeless story. She had to admit she fell a little in love with Conner, and that cold lump in the pit of her stomach that had to do with old bitterness and resentment started to loosen.

For the first time since she left the jailhouse ten years ago she felt a spark of something like real emotion. She’d never been able to let a man get close to her after what Kingsley had done. Caution should be her watchword, but instead she wanted to throw it to the wind and find a little of the innocence she’d seen in Conner’s eyes in her own life and in Kingsley’s.

* * *

Every morning since his son was born Kingsley had woken with the desire to put the past to rest. This morning was no exception. As he’d lain in his bed watching the small bit of sun shining in through the crack in his blinds and realizing he was back in California, he’d felt the familiar anger and determination rise inside him.
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