Make Me Yours: A Stand-Alone Single Dad Romantic Comedy. Page 7

  Reaching out, I touch his arm. It feels so good, warm and strong. “Everyone has to work, Remi. You can’t feel guilty for providing for your family.”

  He puts a hand on top of mine. “I’m too close to judge my own behavior. If I start neglecting her or putting my work first again—”

  “Lillie loves you. She’s so excited every time she sees you, which means you’re doing something right.” Our hands lower. He’s still holding mine, and instinctively our fingers thread. “I’ve been here less than a day, but you seem to have a great relationship with her. You seem to be there for her… as much as she needs you to be. I think it would be okay if she turns out like you…”

  “Will you let me know if I let her down?” His voice is lower.

  “I will.” His eyes drop to my mouth, and my tongue slips out to touch my bottom lip.

  His gaze stays there, and his lips part. God, I want to kiss him. Tightness fills my stomach, and I sway forward, lifting my chin. Warm breath skates over my cheek…

  It’s happening.

  We’re going to kiss.

  My heart beats so fast. He leans closer. My chest aches from the pressure. Perhaps we’ll meet in the middle.

  His eyes move across my cheek like a caress, up to my eyes. “I don’t mean to offend you. I hope you don’t mind me saying this…”

  “What?” The word floats out on an exhale.

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  “So are you…”

  Because, yes. Yes, he is.

  He leans a little closer, and the heat between us is right there. It’s fire, a burning ring of fire, like the song. Our hands are still joined, an electric connection, sparks in our fingertips. I exhale a whimper, a plea for more. I’m slippery and wet, vibrating and magnetic.

  He inhales again, placing his hand on my shoulder. “You smell like roses.”

  My shirt is so thin, I’m sure my nipples will rip through the fabric. I want to reach forward and slide my hand along the front of his pants, feel the erection I know he has.

  One step forward, my chin lifts. My eyes slide close, and my breath stills…

  “Ruby!” Eleanor shouts my name so loud, we both jump apart.

  “Oh my god,” I whisper.

  “If you’re late to pick up Lillian, they fine us a dollar a minute.”

  She’s coming up the stairs. She’s almost to the landing, and I go to the door. Remi turns his back and steps out the open French doors onto the small balcony.

  He didn’t even touch me, but I smooth my hair and straighten my blouse. I’m hot and bothered and breathing fast. “What’s that?” My voice is wobbly.

  “Here you are.” Eleanor pauses at the door, and her eyes narrow suspiciously.

  I pass her, going out to the landing, without a backwards glance at my boss.

  My boss.

  Remi is my boss.

  “I must’ve lost track of time.” My voice is light, not breathless.

  Eleanor pivots and follows me down the stairs. “You might set your watch—”

  “That’s a good idea.” I lift my wrist and tap on my Apple watch.

  “That’s nice.” She leans forward to look over my shoulder. “I looked at one of those a while back, but it seemed so expensive…” Her tone makes it clear she wants to know how I could afford an Apple watch. Like it’s any of her business. “And I’m so old, you know.”

  “It was a Christmas present from my mom.”

  “Oh… of course.”

  Checking my watch also shows I have twenty minutes left to get Lillie. “I guess you drive slower than I do, too.”

  She grins, and her eyes narrow as if she’s sizing me up. “Tell me, Ruby, why does an educated, attractive young woman like you want to be a nanny? I’m sure there’s something you’d rather be doing besides babysitting someone else’s daughter.”

  “Being a nanny is not the same as a babysitter.” I already had this conversation with my mother; now I’m having it with the Dark Lord. Lordess? But while Ma is overly helpful, Eleanor is manipulative, controlling, and pouty. “Anyway, I like Lillie. She’s adorable.”

  “We don’t need you.”

  “Remi seems to have a different opinion on the matter. He said he needed help, and I’m here to help. It’s the Christian thing to do.”

  I couldn’t resist tossing in that jab.

  Church ladies love being so holier than thou.

  “I know you, Ruby Banks. I’ve seen you at church, and you’ve never struck me as particularly Christ-like.” I’m pretty sure she’s trying to insult me, but I’ve never worried about my reputation in Oakville. “Do you even know CPR?”

  “Do you?”

  Her eyes flare. “What is it you really want?”

  I pause, considering her question, how to answer, and I decide to give her the truth. “I want what I think everyone wants—to be useful, to help others, to be independent.”

  “To find a husband?”

  “When the time is right. Speaking of time… Don’t want to get fined!” I pat my watch and give her a perky smile as I walk out the door.

  Nice try, Eleanor.

  8

  Remi

  I’m deep in a proposal Stephen forwarded me about a new developer in Manhattan when I hear singing downstairs.

  At once, I’m on my feet, hustling to the kitchen so I don’t miss lunch. Rounding the corner, the sight hits me again, right in the stomach.

  Lillie follows Ruby to the microwave while they both sing “Be Our Guest”—another Disney princess song. I happen to know this one.

  Watching her, I’m completely mesmerized, and I can’t help remembering our near-kiss less than an hour ago. Despite all my logical, reasonable decision-making, the moment I was alone with Ruby, I found myself a breath away from taking her.

  We came so close… Seriously, if Eleanor hadn’t interrupted us, I can pretty much guarantee, I’d have done more than kiss Ruby.

  The heat between us is so strong… It doesn’t help I can see she wants me as much as I want her. Now here she is, dancing and singing with my daughter, and I’m completely helpless.

  I’m totally at her mercy.

  “Don’t believe me?” Ruby sings, popping the plate in the appliance and pressing a button.

  Lillie’s right behind her. “Ask the dishes!”

  Ruby holds her hand while Lillie turns, and a smile splits my cheeks. “What’s going on in here?”

  “Daddy!” Lillie screams and runs to where I’m standing, leaping into my arms. “Ruby’s making me pigs in blankets! Only they’re not really pigs. They’re little bitty hot dogs!”

  She’s so excited, she’s bouncing on my waist, and I look over at Ruby. She blinks down, and her cheeks flush. I’m not sure if it’s me or all the dancing.

  “It’s crescent rolls around cocktail weenies. I hope that’s okay.” She looks up at me, and her eyes are so bright.

  “I think it sounds great. Are there enough for me?”

  Her expression melts into a genuine laugh, and I’m a goner. “I think so. I’ve got baby carrots to go with them.”

  She holds up a bowl with carrots and another with ranch dressing.

  “My favorite.”

  A minute passes, the microwave beeps, and I’m at the table with my daughter, crunching carrots and hearing all about her day.

  “Then Louie said girls couldn’t play with toy soldiers. Only boys could, and I said that’s stupid. Hasn’t he seen Mulan?”

  Lillie hasn’t stopped talking, lifting a small hot dog and pulling the crescent roll off it. “Look, Daddy. My pig lost his blanket.” She starts giggling, and I grin, smoothing a hand down her head.

  Ruby isn’t with us. I noticed when we sat down, she slipped out of the room. I don’t know where she went, and it bothers me she’s not here.

  “Wrap him up again.” I kiss her head. “I’ll be right back.”

  The living room is empty as is Lillie’s playroom. I’m about to jog up the stairs when
I see her outside the back doors, standing on the patio.

  When I step through the open door, she seems startled. “I’m sorry. Is lunch over?”

  “Not quite. Don’t you want some pigs in blankets? Did I eat your lunch?”

  Her cute nose wrinkles. “I had a late breakfast. I’m good. By the way, having lunch with your daughter pretty much confirms you’re not a distant or detached father.”

  “It’s something I try to do every day. You’re welcome to join us.”

  “I think it’s better if you have that time with her.” She tilts her head and gives me a little smile. “She gets you all to herself.”

  I don’t know why that pleases me so much. Still… “What are you doing?”

  “Would it be okay if we set up easels out here?” She gestures toward the lake. A bridge arches over one end, and cranes stand beneath it. “That’s a really nice scene. I’d like to try painting with Lillie.”

  “Do you paint?”

  “Just for fun.” She shrugs, seeming embarrassed.

  “I think it’s great. I’d love you to give Lillie art lessons.”

  “Okay.” She starts for the door, and I catch her hand. Her eyes fly to mine, startled, and I release her. “Sorry. I just wanted to say I think you’re doing a great job with her. I hope you like it here.”

  Her shoulders relax, and she smiles. “I do. I like it very much. More than I thought I would.”

  “Daddy?” Lillie’s voice is serious. “I finished my lunch. I think you’d better finish yours and get back to work.”

  She’s standing in the French doors with her little hands on her hips, and I can’t resist picking her up again. “Is that so? You think I need to get to work?”

  I tickle her, and she laughs. Ruby’s hand goes to her mouth, and she’s laughing as well. Our eyes meet, and those feelings are so strong. I was going to apologize for almost kissing her. I wanted to make it clear I’m not trying to crowd her or make her uncomfortable.

  Her answer to my question gives me some relief, but I’ll make a point of clearing the air later, once Lillie’s not around to misunderstand.

  Giving her a wink, I put my daughter on her feet. “I guess I’m getting back to work now.”

  Ruby holds out a hand to her. “How do you feel about painting?”

  It gets about the exact response I’d expect. Lillie starts jumping up and down, clapping and cheering. Walking to my office, all I can think is this is exactly how I want it to be.

  9

  Ruby

  Dinner with Eleanor is an unexpectedly formal event.

  I didn’t get the memo to wear a ball gown, so I showed up in the same outfit I’ve worn all day—my purple skirt and “Stay Gold” tee. Eleanor’s wearing a fancy beige pantsuit with another one of those little scarves tied at her neck.

  Lillie changed out of her sparkly mermaid costume, and now she’s wearing a fancy version of Belle’s dress from Beauty and the Beast. It has sparkly gold tulle and a full skirt and looks nicer than anything I own.

  Remi’s drop-dead gorgeous as always in his jeans and tee, but he pulled a navy blazer over it. When I enter the room, he gives me that swoony smile, and I swear, I’m never going to get used to it.

  Everyone’s standing behind their chairs looking at me. “Were you waiting for me?” My face gets hot. “I was…”

  The sentence is started, but the way Eleanor glares at me, the words die on my lips.

  I was on the toilet.

  “You were saying?” She raises her eyebrows, but I only wave my hand.

  “It was nothing.”

  We take our seats, and I nearly jump up again when a woman I don’t recognize appears at my elbow. “Roasted beets with organic kale, avocado, and a splash of balsamic vinaigrette.”

  Wow. She moves down to Remi, and I watch as a male server puts plates in front of Lillie and Eleanor. The woman who served me opens a bottle of white wine and pours Eleanor a glass. She stops by Remi’s seat and he holds up a hand.

  “I have a little more work to do tonight. Thanks.”

  “You work too much.” Eleanor’s voice is condescending, and I see him bristle.

  The server is at my side. “None for me, thanks!” I cover the rim of my glass. “I still have work to do, too.” Eleanor glares at me, and I smile. “Lillie won’t put herself to bed!”

  “Honestly,” she shakes her head. “One glass of wine won’t hurt you. It’s actually good for you.”

  “What’s this red thing?” Lillie pokes at the beet on her plate.

  “It’s called a beet.” Eleanor touches her small wrist. “Don’t play with your food.”

  Holding my breath, I watch as Lillie stabs the dark red slice and pops it in her mouth. Her little eyes widen, and I have no idea what’s about to happen.

  “It tastes like dirt!” She announces, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing.

  Eleanor is undeterred, calmly taking a bite of her salad. “And how do you know what dirt tastes like?”

  “Louie made us all eat dirt to prove we could be good soldiers.” Lillie stabs another beet. “I can eat dirt. I’m going to be a general.”

  Remi laughs as he shovels another bite of salad into his mouth. “Take it from me, soldiers don’t eat dirt, honey.”

  Eleanor puts down her fork. “While I admire your fortitude, Lillian, you are not to eat dirt at school or anywhere. That’s how you get worms.”

  My smile is tight, and while I hate being on Eleanor’s side, I don’t want Lillie eating dirt either.

  Her little brow furrows, and she stabs the last red beet on her plate. “What kind of worms? Earthworms are friendly worms, but they wiggle so fast when you touch them.”

  She holds up a little hand and squiggles her fingers wildly.

  “I’m going to have a talk with your teacher,” Eleanor huffs, leaning back with her wine as the male server reappears to collect our salad plates.

  “Miss Terry says dirt has minerals in it.”

  Eleanor glares at her, but I jump in to redirect. “It’s true. Pica is a medical condition where patients crave dirt and other non-nutritive substances. Researchers later found many of them were anemic and deficient in other minerals like iron and zinc.”

  “So you’re saying Lillian should be allowed to eat dirt?” It’s not really a question. It’s a stabby little barb from Eleanor to me.

  “Of course not.” I force a laugh. “I only mean it shouldn’t hurt her.”

  “Lillian,” Eleanor turns to her granddaughter. “I forbid you to eat dirt.”

  Lillie looks at me, and I nod. “It’s not a good idea.”

  The female server enters the room with two plates of meat and a swirled cloud of deep orange fluff. “Free-range pork chops and mashed, organic sweet potatoes locally grown right here in Pike County.”

  I’m across the table from Lillie, but the male server stays at her side, slicing her pork into tiny pieces before leaving. Good to know.

  “This ought to be good for us.” Remi cuts a slice of the perfectly cooked pork and pops it in his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

  The female nods and leaves the room.

  “Daddy and I had pigs in blankets for lunch!” Lillie announces proudly as she pushes the sweet potato mash around her plate.

  Eleanor’s eyes go wide. “Who in the world gave you that? Remington?”

  He starts to answer, but Lillie cuts him off. “Ruby made them, and I helped! Ruby’s not like Tiana. She can’t cook everything in New Orleans.”

  My lips press together, and I’m not sure if I want to laugh or crawl under the table.

  Eleanor puts her fork beside her plate and glares at me. “You might just as well have fed her dirt. Do you know how many chemicals… how much sodium is in a hot dog?”

  “Ruby said they were cocktail weenies.” Lillie starts to giggle, stacking her sweet potatoes higher on her plate. “She said weenie.”

  “Lillian, stop playing with your food. It’s bad manners.” Elea
nor clears her throat and turns to me. “Perhaps we should sit down and create a menu for lunches each week.”

  Remi puts his fork beside his plate. “It was a delicious lunch, complete with baby carrots—”

  “And ranch dressing!” Lillie cries.

  Eleanor puts her hand to her chest as if she’ll faint.

  My lips press into a frown, and I push my own sweet potatoes around. Ma was pretty much Suzy Homemaker when I was growing up, but all I know how to make is spicy dumplings and kimchee. Drew’s house was where I got American food, and we ate all the things I know how to prepare… none of which are free-range or organically grown.

  “I appreciate your feelings about a healthy diet, Eleanor,” Remi continues. “I also appreciate Ruby’s effort preparing a fun lunch for Lillie, even if it falls outside your nutritional norms.”

  He’s kind of awesome sticking up for me, and I give him a grateful smile.

  “Remington, you can’t let her eat that trash. Too much sodium is bad for her heart, juvenile diabetes is at an all-time high, obesity is—”

  “We can talk about it later.”

  Looking down at the fancy meal before us, I guess pop tarts are off the list. I’ll have to do some research on healthy eating and step up my game a little bit, maybe pull Ma into the mix. I don’t want to make Lillie unhealthy.

  Finally we’re done, and I lead my little charge up two flights of stairs to her elaborate bedroom. It’s like a room in a palace with an ornate headboard and thick, fluffy duvets and loads of pillows.

  She’s bathed and dressed in her Elsa nightgown, searching for a book to read as I pick up her clothes and put them on hangers.

  “You’re old enough to hang your own clothes now.” My tone is gentle, and I pull the sleeves of her coat out of the body. It’s when I notice a crinkly ball in the pocket.

  Reaching inside, I pull out three packets of ketchup. The kind that comes from fast-food restaurants. “What’s this? Where did you get these?”

  The minute she sees me, her face flushes with shame. She runs to where I’m standing and takes them from me. “Don’t tell Gigi. She’ll never let me get a puppy.”