Shouldn't Want You (Cataclysm Book 2) Page 7

  “Good. I’m so glad you’re making new friends. I know it’s hard when your usual friends are probably all out of town for summer break. And you’re not spending too much time with little Eli’s father, right? You know how men can get with a young, beautiful babysitter around.”

  I roll my eyes at that. “Everything with Danny is fine, Mom. He appreciates how well I look after his son. He’s friendly, but not inappropriate at all.” Right? I mean, serving me wine at the end of the day and sharing a blanket while watching movies is friendly, but not crossing any lines. I don’t think so, anyway. He doesn’t see me as a woman. There hasn’t been a repeat of those looks that one night at bathtime. So at the very least, he doesn’t see me as a woman he’d date. More like a roommate he pays to watch his son while he works.

  My mother would be horrified to find out I’m a live-in nanny for a single dad. Who’s wealthy and famous. And who gives me alcohol and exposes me to evil, worldly films and TV shows. My entire life would horrify my mother. Which is why I only tell her the barest of details.

  “Enough about me. How are you? How’s Dad? And how are Jeshua and Naomi?”

  “We’re all doing great.” Mom launches into stories of everyone, church events, and how my younger siblings are doing at school.

  “But I should let you go,” she says after giving me the usual updates. “You have plans, and I don’t want to make you late.”

  I pull my phone away to glance at the time. “You’re right, I do need to get going. I have to finish getting ready before Blaire picks me up. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  After the usual I love yous, we hang up. Slowly, I slip the robe off my shoulders and reach for my dress, feeling sadder and heavier than I did just twenty minutes ago when my shower ended.

  I hate lying to my family. But either I continue lying, or I tell the truth and risk never hearing from them again. Ever. And as much as I hate lying, I’d hate losing the only people who’ve ever really loved me even more.

  After losing everything else, they’re all I have left.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Danny

  I open the door to find Blaire wearing a tight-fitting, low-cut emerald green dress that ends just below her ass. She immediately pulls me in for a hug—ignoring the fact that my shirt’s still a little damp from playing with Eli in the bath—kisses the air next to my cheek, then pushes me out of the way to get inside.

  She does a little twirl, then strikes a pose, her ruby red lips forming a perfect pout. “You like?”

  “You look gorgeous, as always.” It’s true, but she’d cut off my balls if I said anything else, and we both know it.

  “Ha.” Stepping forward, she pats me on the chest. “You know just what to say. So where’s my new BFF? Has she shown you her new dress?”

  My chest constricts at the thought of Ava in a dress that matches Blaire’s. What color would it be? Red? Purple? Pink? Any of those would look stunning on her.

  I shake my head. “Nope. She’s been holed up in her room since she got out of the shower.” Forcing myself to remain casual about the thought of Ava in the shower after the mental image of her in a teeny tiny dress, I step past Blaire and head for the living room.

  I’ve been practicing not picturing Ava in the shower all evening. First, when she breezily said, “I’m going to hop in the shower.” Then when I heard the water running. And again, when I put Eli in the bath in the humid bathroom, water droplets clinging to the tile on the walls and her shampoo and conditioner clustered in the corner.

  Blaire’s voice follows after me from the entryway. “I’ll just go check on her. I’m supposed to help with her makeup before we go.”

  By the time I turn back around, Blaire’s gone, the sound of her heels in the hallway and a light rap at Ava’s door the only evidence that she’s still in the condo.

  With a sigh, I flop down on the couch and pick up the remote. With Eli in bed there’s no one to distract me. I flip through the guide, not even noticing what’s on. My mind is stuck on Ava going out with Blaire and Kendra. They’re obviously going out to a club. Which means they’ll be drinking. Ava doesn’t drink much, and she gets loose and mellow after just one glass of wine. Are they going to get her drunk? What would a drunk Ava be like? More chatty? Maudlin? Mean? Or extra affectionate?

  I shift in my seat at the mental image of an affectionate Ava curled up on the couch with me. She’s affectionate with Eli, ruffling his hair, giving him hugs, scooping him up when he asks. I’ve walked in on more than one tickle fight with both of them rolling on the floor and giggling so hard they can’t breathe. But with me? She sticks to her end of the couch. Except that one night when we shared a blanket, but even then, we didn’t touch. We just sat a little closer than normal.

  If she were less inhibited with me, willing to lean against me, hug me, curl up against me instead of in the corner of the couch …

  But if she gets drunk tonight, that won’t be how the night ends. Because she’s going out for a girls’ night. And I’ll be here watching TV by myself.

  That shouldn’t bother me. I like being on my own. But watching TV in the evenings has become our thing. So I don’t want to watch another episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine without her. And we’ve been saving the next Lord of the Rings for a night when I’m not out too late. Though we’ll have to watch it soon. The first leg of our tour starts in two weeks.

  We’ve decided on a three months on, three months off schedule to start with. There was some push back from the label, but since they make their money off album sales more than our live shows, and we agreed to still do press and promotional appearances even during our off months, they let us have our way.

  I stew over what to watch, continuing to browse through everything available, the abundance of choices making it even more difficult. Especially because the only shows I want to watch are ones I want to watch with Ava.

  A throat clearing in the entryway to the hall draws my eyes to Blaire. When she’s satisfied she has my full attention, she smiles widely. “Okay. I get the feeling that our timid little nanny isn’t very used to male attention. So you need to compliment her. Get her used to hearing how hot she is from someone she knows and trusts.”

  “Blaire,” I start, a warning note entering my voice. I’m one hundred percent certain that our timid little nanny, as Blaire put it, is completely unused to male attention. And the last thing she needs is her boss telling her she’s hot.

  But Blaire ignores me, shushing me with a wave of her hand and a stern look. I know better than to cross her when she’s like this.

  So I clamp my lips together and cross my arms over my chest while I wait.

  Blaire sighs. “Stop looking like I’m about to force feed you Brussels sprouts.” She waits while I arrange my face into something more bland, which produces a glare, a sigh, and a disappointed shake of her head. But it’s good enough to get her to move on. She steps out of the entryway and pokes her head into the hall. “Okay, Ava. Come on out.”

  Hesitant steps echo softly on the wooden floor. I can tell she’s being careful not to wake Eli. Or maybe she’s just nervous. Knowing her, both are equally possible. I resettle my arms across my chest and slouch a little more into the couch. I’m not in the mood for my nanny to give me a fashion show. Especially not clubwear. That’s the absolute last fucking thing I need, actually. I’ve been having enough fantasies about her all on my own. There’s no need to add to them.

  I toss a glare in Blaire’s direction, and she just looks at me like I’m a fucking idiot. Which is fitting, because I am a fucking idiot. I have a hard-on for my kid’s nanny, and it’s gotten to the point that I don’t even want to ask Blaire to set me up with someone she knows locally, because I don’t want anyone but Ava.

  How’s that for a total fucking cliche?

  But she’s sweet and caring and everything I didn’t know I wanted. No one else would be able to compare. I’m completely captivated, and I don’t even care to try to change it. Even if I
know that nothing can ever happen.

  Ava comes out, distracting me from my thoughts, her eyes on her shoes as she steps into the living room wearing a deep purple dress with a low scoop that shows off her cleavage. It clings to her curves then drapes from her hips in a flirty skirt that swishes as she moves, falling right about mid-thigh. Her long, smooth legs end in a pair of nude T-strap heels.

  When I drag my eyes back to her face, she has her burgundy painted lower lip caught between her teeth, her hands smoothing down her sides as she waits for my reaction.

  Standing, because I can’t stay seated when faced with this vision, I have to clear my throat twice before I can force my voice out, and it still comes out harsh, even to my own ears. “You look great.”

  Blaire gives me a concerned look and steps forward. “Are you okay? You aren’t coming down with something are you? Do you need me to have someone deliver my herbal cold remedy?”

  Making a face, I suppress a shudder of revulsion as I shake my head. “God, no. I’m fine. I just swallowed wrong.”

  Blaire’s face changes from concerned to knowing, and she glances at Ava. “Right.” She draws out the word. “I see.” Then she clears her throat and looks back and forth between us. “I just remembered that I need to pee. And get a glass of water. I’ll be right back.”

  Ava’s head swivels as she watches Blaire stride into the hallway, then she glances at me before dropping her eyes to her shoes once more and smoothing her skirt down her thighs.

  I clear my throat yet again, glad when my voice comes out more normal. “I mean it. You look fantastic.” The word doesn’t do her justice. The dress, the hair—pulled back with a few wisps framing her face—and the makeup—I’m not sure what magic Blaire’s worked, but she looks more. More of everything. More refined, more elegant, more beautiful. And her mouth—those plump burgundy lips—don’t even get me started on that mouth. With all of that combined, she looks fucking hot. That’s the only description that fits.

  But I can’t tell her that.

  She shifts under my gaze, the pink of her cheeks getting darker. “Thank you,” she murmurs, her voice so low that I can barely hear her over the hammering of my heart in my ears.

  Blaire sweeps back in, and I suck in a breath, grateful for the reprieve. “Have fun tonight,” I manage to say without sounding like I’m about to swallow my tongue again. Or rip Ava’s clothes off and have my way with her in the middle of the living room.

  I don’t think Blaire’s much of a voyeur, though I suspect she might be a little bit of an exhibitionist. Even so, her presence wouldn’t be enough to stop me if I thought Ava might be receptive.

  But what the fuck am I thinking?

  Ava’s my nanny.

  My employee.

  And with the way she keeps ducking my gaze, she’s uncomfortable and nervous about me looking at her like I’m a hungry lion and she’s a juicy gazelle.

  I sit back down and give a casual wave. Or at least I hope it is. “See you later.”

  Blaire wraps her arm through Ava’s and tugs her toward the door. “Don’t wait up!” she calls over her shoulder as they leave.

  Like fuck I won’t.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Danny

  Three hours later, Marcus, Aaron, and I sit on the couch, beer bottles and pizza littering the coffee table in front of us, blue light flickering in the darkened living room as we watch the fourth Die Hard for the millionth time, the volume low so we don’t wake Eli.

  I don’t think Ava has much interest in action flicks, so it felt like a safe choice.

  I brooded alone for a while before texting the guys. Mason responded with one word—busy, but Marcus and Aaron made the long trek from their respective condos on different floors when I promised beer and pizza.

  Aaron drains the last of his third beer, letting out a belch and settling further into the couch, his feet on the coffee table next to an open pizza box. “I know why Danny’s on his own tonight, but what’s your story, Marcus? Kendra cutting you off already?”

  Marcus snorts from his place on the loveseat, where he’s stretched out across both cushions, and tosses a napkin at Aaron. “No. And anyway, if I didn’t know better, I could ask you the same about Blaire. Or I’d ask if it was her night with Mason.” Marcus’s teeth flash in the light of an on-screen explosion when Aaron lifts his hand and flips him off without taking his eyes off the screen. “But Blaire and Kendra are out with Ava tonight. They all went dancing or something.”

  With a grunt, Aaron leans forward and places his empty beer bottle on the floor, the table apparently being too far away.

  “You better pick that up later.”

  He glares at me from the other end of the couch. “Yes, Mom.”

  “Fuck you, asshole. I don’t need my toddler playing with empty beer bottles in the morning.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, unfazed by my insults. He’s used to them. “So are they taking Ava out to help her hook up with someone or what?”

  I give an involuntary jerk at that comment. Somehow that thought hadn’t occurred to me, and I’m glad I’m not drinking anything, because I almost choke on my tongue as it is.

  Marcus’s head lolls in my direction, and I can tell he’s fighting back a knowing grin. Then he refocuses on the movie. “Nah, man. I think it’s just for them to hang out. Kendra called it a girls’ night.”

  “Riiight.” Aaron’s voice broadcasts his doubt into the room, polluting the air like a fart. “Anytime chicks dress up and go out, it’s to find guys. Or at least get checked out by guys, even if they don’t plan on going home with one.”

  I grind my teeth, but take a deep breath, trying to force myself to relax. Because for one thing, Aaron’s usually full of shit. And for another, even if he’s not, it shouldn’t bother me if Ava’s out looking for a hookup. If that’s even what she’s doing. But she has my protective instincts on high alert. She has from the beginning, with her deer in the headlights impression around all of us. Getting to know her, laughing with her, hearing about her family’s crazy Christian versions of normal games, has only intensified that.

  Forcing myself to sound casual, I can’t pass up the opportunity to needle Aaron. Both because it’s fun and because I want the information. “And you became an expert on women since …”

  He looks at me, eyebrows raised. “Blaire divulged that bit of information. If a woman’s dressing up, you better believe it’s because she’s intending to attract attention.”

  “Blaire not satisfied with you and Mason anymore?” It’s a low blow, but I can’t help myself.

  Aaron doesn’t react other than to shift a little and shrug. “If Blaire’s decided to find a new guy for the night, I think it has more to do with wanting variety than lack of satisfaction. While it’s possible she’s on the prowl, I didn’t hear any complaints last night.”

  “Dude,” interjects Marcus. “Blaire’s like a little sister to me. I don’t want to hear about you two having sex.”

  Holding up his hands, Aaron chuckles. “I wasn’t going to give you details. Just sayin’.” He shakes his head. “You and Kendra are sickeningly in love, so I know she’s just along for a fun night with the girls. Blaire likes attention, and she makes no secret about that, but she’s happy with the way things are. That just leaves Ava. And how much do you wanna bet that Blaire’s plan is to find a guy for her, at least for the night?”

  I turn the growl trying to rumble out of my chest into a cough, sitting up straighter to cover it. The part that kills me the most is that Aaron’s probably right.

  I shouldn’t worry, though. Because Ava grew up super conservative. Remember the virgin alert I got loud and clear a couple weeks ago?

  Yeah.

  Even if Ava’s not religious anymore, she wouldn’t give up her V-card to some random dude at a club.

  Right?

  Right …

  Right.

  I shake my head. “Even if Blaire’s planning on that, I’m not sure Ava woul
d go for it. She doesn’t seem like the type.”

  Aaron scratches his chin, glancing at me as he contemplates what I’ve said. “You think she’s not a one-night-stand kind of girl?”

  I nod, not trusting myself to say more.

  “Hmm. Maybe she’d be more open to a long-term arrangement.”

  Marcus catches my eye before I can respond to Aaron, and the searching look on his face is as effective as a bucket of ice water in bringing me to my senses.

  I clear my throat and stand up, gathering my two empty beer bottles and a paper plate. “Maybe she would,” I manage to get out. My voice is hoarse, but no one calls me on it, and I head to the kitchen before anyone can.

  While I’m there, I take my sweet time throwing away my trash and wiping down the counters as an excuse to get away from Aaron talking about Ava hooking up with some guy. Or volunteering to be that guy. The simple chore pulls my thoughts to Ava. Not Ava as a potential hookup for Aaron, but Ava in my house, taking care of my son. Performing simple, domestic tasks. Making my empty condo feel like a home.

  Which just makes me more pissed about Aaron’s comments.

  Where does he get off going after Ava, anyway? Doesn’t he have a thing with Blaire? He commented that she didn’t have any complaints, but I’ve never heard any from him, either. Maybe he’s grown tired of sharing. Or he figures he shares Blaire, so she can share him. Everyone shares, just like in Kindergarten, only it’s sexual partners instead of toys.

  God, I sound like a prudish asshole, even in my own head. And I wouldn’t give two shits, except I’m the fucking douchebag with a hard-on for his nanny.

  I always thought dads lusting after their nannies was kinda sick and really skeevy, but I get it now. She’s great. Sweet. Funny. Smart. Amazing with Eli.

  What man wouldn’t fall a little bit in love with the woman who takes such good care of his kid?

  On top of that, she has all my protective instincts on high alert. Maybe it’s just that she’s always with Eli, so I associate her with him.