Make Me Yours: A Stand-Alone Single Dad Romantic Comedy. Page 3
“Remi… Remington Key. I live in Eagleside Manor.” As the words come out, I wince a little. I don’t want her to think I’m bragging about living in Oakville’s only gated community.
“Oh, really?” her eyebrows rise, and she turns as if to leave.
I can’t help a laugh. “What is this? Reverse discrimination?” Carefully, I reach out to touch her arm. Despite my internal conflict, I don’t want her to go.
She stops and faces me again, narrowing her eyes. “What are you doing in the Red Cat, Remington Key? Slumming?”
“What are you doing in the Red Cat… I don’t know your name.” Although, I swear she looks familiar.
“Ruby Banks.” She holds out a slim, ivory hand with perfectly manicured nails.
Gently, I take it in mine, covering it with both of mine. She studies our connection, and her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink.
How can I not know everyone living in Oakville? It’s a testament to how little I get out these days, I guess. If it weren’t for Eleanor’s nagging, I wouldn’t even bother with church.
“Nice to meet you, Ruby Banks.” Right as I say the words, it clicks. “We have met before.”
Her shoulder rises, and she slips her hand out of mine. “I don’t think so.”
“We did. I remember it now. It was after church one morning.” I look toward the bar, and I recognize her blonde friend, a.k.a., my former therapist. “You were with Drew… Isn’t that Andrea Harris?”
She does a funny little fast-laugh. “That wasn’t me.”
“But… it was.” I study her face. She won’t meet my eyes, so I try to lighten my tone. Maybe I’m being too forceful? “I was the guy with the squirmy four-year-old.”
Another wince. I know admitting I’m a single dad probably kills any chance of getting a date with her.
Wait… Is that what I want?
It doesn’t matter.
Loud commotion breaks out on the other side of the bar, interrupting our conversation.
It’s hard to see what’s happening as the bodies crush together. The guys form a tight circle, and voices are raised. It sounds like a fight is breaking out. I hear the crash of what sounds like a body being shoved against the opposite wall.
An unexpected surge of protectiveness grips me. Standing, I put my arm between Ruby and the chaos. “We should leave before it gets dangerous in here. Do you need a ride?”
Her head whips back and forth. “No, I have my car… I’ve got to find Drew.” She pushes past my arm.
“Wait… Ruby!” I do my best not to panic as I watch her disappear in a mass of oversized guys shoving back and forth.
I try to follow her without starting a fight of my own. Interesting how guys are so quick to let girls pass in a crowd. Not so much for other guys.
When I finally make it to her, she’s hugging Drew, who’s holding hands with another guy I know. Grayson Cole owns the garage in town. I thought he’d left.
I can’t tell what’s happening, but it all seems to be resolved. Gray puts his arm around Drew, and they head for the door. Ruby watches them go with her hands clasped at her chest, and I recognize something in her face.
It’s a feeling… A longing so familiar, an emotion I remember once having. One I want again. Could Drew be right? Am I ready?
Once again our eyes meet, and again, it’s electric, She walks straight to me, a small act, but it feels significant.
“What happened?”
The crowd slowly disperses while Mose the bartender holds what looks like a Louisville slugger.
Her hand slips into the crook of my arm, and she exhales a little sigh. “Do you believe in true love, Remington?”
“You can call me Remi. And I think so…”
I don’t say I’ve stopped believing in one true love. At least, I hope we’re allowed more than one. Otherwise, I’m fucked.
We go to my old spot at the bar, and she releases me, taking the stool beside mine. Blinking away the dreamy expression, she tilts her head to the side. “What do you do for a living to afford a McMansion in Eagleton Manor?”
I signal for drinks. “It’s not a McMansion, and I’ve done a lot of things. What’s your poison?”
“Tequila Sunrise, and don’t dodge the question.”
I grin and place our order. “I wasn’t dodging. I left the Navy and started working in tech.”
“Ahh…” She nods. “Military guy. We get a lot of those around here.”
“Right, because of Charleston.”
“What did you do in tech?”
“I sold a program to a group of investors, who in turn sold it to the government. It made a lot of money, and now I’m an investor looking for guys like me with great ideas.”
I think about how hard I worked in those early days, how hard I work now. I should be more involved with Lillie. I’ve acted just like my dad. Shit, these past four years, I practically turned into a clone of the man.
The bartender puts a whiskey in front of me and a salmon-colored mixed drink in front of Ruby. She takes a long sip, and I do the same.
“So you’re like a philanthropist?”
“I’m an investor. I give developers money to finish their work, and when it becomes successful—if it becomes successful—I get a nice payday. Whatever money I put up, plus profit.”
“That is some serious first-world shit right there. Some serious illuminati shit. Are you trying to control the world, Remington?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I wish. I feel like I can’t even control my house.”
She nods, taking a long sip of her drink. “I hear that.”
“And what do you do, Ruby Banks, who doesn’t remember me from church?”
Her small nose wrinkles, and she shakes her head. “That wasn’t me. It was some other, irresponsible person. I’m a very responsible, licensed therapist. Or at least I was.”
That explains how she knows Drew. Leaning my elbow on the bar, I’m intrigued. “What do you mean you were?”
“I can’t afford my client list.” She copies my move, putting her elbow on the bar. “Or my lack of one. Too bad I’m not in tech or you could throw some money my way.”
“Call me as soon as you develop an app.”
“I’ll do it.” She grins, and I notice her studying my left hand. “You’re not married, but you have a wiggly four-year-old. How’s that?”
“My wife died.”
“Oh!” She pulls back quickly. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” My hands go to my lap.
“Do you still miss her?” Her brows are pulled together, and when I look up, I see genuine concern in her eyes.
“Yes.” Then I scratch my head. “I’ll always miss her…” But maybe it’s time to stop being alone? I don’t know. “I’m starting to think I need help.”
She leans forward. “It just so happens I have a lot of openings in my schedule. And I mean a lot.”
“I think my most urgent concern is my daughter, Lillie.”
“Does she have special needs?”
My bright-eyed little sunbeam flickers through my mind. “No, she’s just four. She goes to preschool half days and then she’s home while I’m working. She’s active and playful, and my mother-in-law doesn’t believe in listening to me—”
“Because she’s the grandmother.” Ruby nods as if she understands completely. “Grandparents are supposed to spoil them, feed them cake for breakfast. Not make them mind.”
“Eleanor doesn’t feed her cake, but Lillie’s schedule is erratic. She never naps, so she’s cranky in the evenings. And the Barney videos—”
“Oh, stop! Barney is the worst.” She holds up her hand, making a horrified face.
“Tell me about it.”
“He’s a big purple freak with weird eyes and a creepy voice.”
I snort in my glass. “You clearly have strong feelings about him.”
“Why does he move his arms like that? Goody goody!�
� She pins her elbows at her waist and does a hilarious T. Rex flap. “If I were a kid, I’d pee my pants crying.”
It’s all too perfect. I know in that moment, this must happen.
“Come work for me.” The words are out so fast, I can’t stop them. I don’t want to stop them.
Ruby freezes mid-T. Rex flap. “You’re drunk.”
“I’m serious.” Sitting straighter, I snap into boss mode. “You’re a licensed therapist. You’re clearly qualified, and I need help.”
“Do you know what therapists do?”
“I know what I do. I’m a problem solver, and we have parallel problems.”
Her arms lower slowly, and I can tell she’s curious. “What would I do for you?”
“Be Lillie’s nanny.” Her full lips quirk down, and I keep going. “You would live at my house, drive Lillie to and from school, do educational things with her in the afternoons… help with her meals and light housekeeping, bathe her, put her to bed…”
“You want me to be a live-in nanny?” She’s not convinced, but I’m liking this idea more by the minute.
“I’ve got plenty of room. You’ll share the whole top floor with Lillie, and that way if she needs anything during the night, you’ll be there to help her.”
“Why can’t you help her?”
“I have to work.”
Concern lines her pretty face, and I decide to sweeten the deal. “I’ll pay you five hundred dollars a day.”
She straightens so fast, she almost falls off her stool. I swallow a laugh and jump forward to catch her. The move puts us shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest, and heat surges through my waist. She smells good, like flowers in the spring… she feels even better in my arms.
In that moment, I’m vividly aware of how long it’s been since I’ve had sex.
Her hands grip my biceps, moving higher as she regains her balance. She blinks up, and our noses almost touch. It’s amazing… until she steps back, out of my embrace.
“You said five hundred dollars a day.”
“That’s right.”
“And you’re serious?”
“I am.”
“I don’t care if you’re drunk.” She sticks out her hand. “When do I start?”
I catch it in a nice, firm handshake. “How about Monday? You could move your things tomorrow evening, meet Lillie, get a feel for the place… Is that too soon?”
“We should have a contract or something… lay some ground rules. I’ve never been a nanny before.”
I study this beautiful girl with bright, intelligent eyes. Her lips are red and full, and she smells like new roses. Not old lady roses, nice clean and crisp ones. I want to hold her in my arms again. I want to bury my face in her hair and slide my hands from her narrow waist, over her slim hips, cupping her ass and lifting her against the wall…
In my current state, I see no conflict in having these feelings and offering her a job. In hindsight, I probably am drunk. Still, I know my instincts are always good.
“I’ll put a contract together, and you can look over it tomorrow. If you’re at church, you can meet Lillie and let me know.”
“One month.” She holds up a finger, and I tilt my head to the side.
“What about it?”
“We’ll have a one-month trial period.” Then she nods, standing in front of the bar and picking up her small bag. “We’ll meet tomorrow, and if the contract looks good, I’ll do a one-month trial period. After that, we can decide if I stay.”
“You sure you’ve never done this before?”
“I’m a professional. I cover all my bases.” Her phone is out, and she taps the pink Lyft app.
“Give me your number.”
She starts to object, then she backs down. “I was going to make a joke, but you’re right. You’ll need to be able to reach me.”
Even if she decides not to work for me, I want to be able to reach her. Everything about this night is different, special. I’m sure it won’t happen again… like it’s the second chance I can’t let slip away.
Her digits are in my phone, and I send her a quick text. “Now you have mine.”
“My ride’s here. See you tomorrow.”
I follow her to the door, holding it as she steps out into the night. “Text me when you get there.”
She pauses at the door and squints up at me. “Oakville’s pretty small. I’m sure I’ll get home just fine.”
“Still, I’d like to know you made it.”
“You know I’ve been taking care of myself for a while.”
“Please?”
She does a little eye roll before hopping into the waiting car. I get one last look at her pretty legs before the door closes, and she’s gone.
Inside the bar, five minutes later, I’ve just settled up my tab when my phone buzzes in my pocket. Sliding it out, the text shining on the screen tightens my stomach.
Made it home, boss. Happy?
I quickly tap out a reply. So far, you’re an exemplary employee. Looking forward to tomorrow.
A few seconds pass, and I’m walking to the door as the gray bubble floats, indicating she’s typing a reply. For as long as it takes, I’m a little surprised it’s only two words.
Me too.
3
Ruby
“Wake up! Wake up! Church time!” My ears flash with pain as my mother stomps around my room, opening the blinds and talking way too loud. “You want to hoot with the owls all night, you have to fly with the eagles all morning.”
“That’s not how that saying goes.” I growl, pulling a pillow over my head. “Stop being so loud. And turn off the sun!”
I can’t wait to get my own place.
“Get up, Ruby Banks!” She takes the pillow off my head and tosses it aside. “You live in my house, you go to church. Now go and take a shower. We leave in fifteen minutes.”
Rolling onto my side, I look at the clock. It’s not even eight yet. “Church doesn’t start until ten!”
“We signed up to help with the senior breakfast this morning. It starts before Sunday school. Eight thirty.”
“We signed up to help? We?” I like that… I grumble as I stomp to the shower. “I didn’t sign up for anything.”
Warm water rouses me, and the first thing I remember is Remington Key. Hell, what did I agree to do last night? I’ve lost my mind. Or have I?
Remington Key has a straight, white smile and an adorable dimple in his left cheek. He has warm hazel eyes and wavy, caramel brown hair. His hands are long and elegant, and when I slipped off my stool last night, he caught me in the strongest embrace.
His muscles were hard and lined through his shirt, and I didn’t want to let him go. I slid my hands slowly up the hard ridges, imagining what might be under that soft fabric. Water runs down my face, and I tilt my chin up, picturing his sexy lips touching mine, threading my fingers in those soft waves, wrapping my legs around his narrow waist… Damn, that’s hot…
My hand slips between my thighs, and I finger the little bud hidden there. I move my hand back and forth, circling, massaging, rising onto my toes as I imagine his hard dick teasing my entrance, nudging, pushing, pillaging my insides, sliding in and out, all the way to the hilt, pushing me higher, higher…
My jaw drops, my eyes squeeze shut… Oh, god, I’m coming…
“Ten-minute warning!” My mother’s loud voice jumps me out of my orgasm.
“Jesus!” I shout, my heart flying, and my entire body on edge.
“Do not take the lord’s name in vain!”
“Or what?” I shout back, shutting off the tap and feeling very frustrated.
Drying off quickly, I think about what I’ve done. Have I lost my freakin’ mind? I just spent the last several minutes rubbing one out while I dreamed of screwing my new boss…
That does it. I can’t work for Remington Key. He’s too hot.
Then I remember the carrot: Five hundred dollars a day.
Holy shit, that’s fifteen thousand dollars
a month! How loaded is this guy? And why the fuck didn’t I remember meeting him at church?
Shaking my head, I apply light makeup—powder on the nose, cat eyes, pale pink lip. He was drunk. He’s going to call me today and apologize, and I’ll be back on the job market.
Still… He seemed pretty serious. What if he doesn’t back out?
My stomach squeezes, and I swallow a squeal. I could do a lot with fifteen thousand dollars a month. Standing in front of the mirror, I take a few deep breaths and evaluate my appearance. I look responsible, competent, professional. I would trust me with my kid.
If this is for real, and ridiculously hot Remington Key really wants to pay me an insane amount of money to be his nanny, I will do it.
He said he needs help, and it’s the right and Christian thing to do.
I can do this.
Leaning forward, I softly order, “Don’t fuck it up.”
By the time we finish cleaning up after those messy old people, service has already begun. I don’t mind being late, because Pastor Hibbert’s sermons always put me to sleep. Also because it means Ma and I get to sit in one of the open pews near the back, rather than her favorite spot right up front.
The congregation is singing “Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus,” and I take this opportunity to turn my eyes upon Remington Key sitting beside a silver-haired woman who I assume is Eleanor, his mother-in-law. She’s dressed in a pale blue suit, and she looks very formal and strict. She’s vaguely familiar. I’m sure I’ve seen her at one of Ma’s many Bible studies.
Remi’s wearing a tailored brown suit, and now that he’s standing, not sitting on a barstool, I realize he’s tall. He’s also slim, but not skinny. I bet he’s hiding a hot, athletic bod under all that expensive-looking material. A Jamie Dornan in Fifty Shades Freed kind of bod.
I do a quick scan of the backs of heads. Dagwood is here, sitting with his wife Dotty. Mrs. Stern and her son Ralph are behind them. I do a shiver and continue looking, but I don’t see Drew anywhere. Not that I’m surprised.
We’re instructed to sit, and I watch as Remi makes sure Eleanor has everything she needs. What a gentleman. Just before he takes a seat, those hazel eyes sweep the room, and when they meet mine, a shot of adrenaline sizzles in my lower stomach.