The Ten-Day Baby Takeover. Karen BoothЧитать онлайн книгу.

       Three

      Oliver in her arms, Sarah climbed out of Aiden’s black SUV, squinting behind sunglasses at the apartment building before them. About a dozen stories high, it had an antique brick facade blanketed in tidy sections of ivy and dotted with tall leaded glass windows. This was not what she’d envisioned for Aiden Langford’s abode. She’d assumed a high-rise overlooking Central Park. Wasn’t that his birthright? Ritzy address and an equally swanky apartment? Instead, he resided on Fifth Avenue at Twenty-sixth Street, in the Flatiron District with a view of Madison Square Park. She had a sneaking suspicion that Aiden was full of surprises. And that this was the first of many.

      “Is that one yours?” She pointed at the highest floor. “The one on top with the biggest terrace?”

      Aiden wheeled Sarah’s suitcase from the car, lugging the teddy bear that was easily twice Oliver’s size, while Aiden’s driver John unloaded the remaining bags of toys and baby clothes. “The top four floors are my apartment.”

      Sarah gulped, surveying the manicured spaces—a formal balcony with stone columns and wrought iron on the lowest level all the way up to one that looked like a park in its own right, each spanning the building. He’d still gone for swanky, merely in a different corner of the city. “That’s a lot of room for a single guy.”

      “My third floor is empty. And the fourth floor is all outdoors. I need my space.”

      “I’m surprised you don’t live up by Anna and her husband. She was telling me she lives only a few minutes from your mom.”

      Aiden cast his sights down at her, his sunglasses revealing nothing but her own reflection. The crinkles in his forehead and the way his brows drew together were enough indication that he didn’t like the question. The driver slammed the car tailgate. Sarah jumped.

      “Like I said, I need my space.” Aiden’s voice was stern, like a father telling his wayward teenage daughter that she’d better be home before eleven.

      Okay, then. Dropping the subject.

      Together, they entered the beautifully appointed lobby. Black-and-white-checkerboard marble floors and a chandelier dripping with crystals hinted at both wealth and good taste. Sarah pushed Oliver in the stroller while she tried to remember to take deep breaths. Everything about this made her heart beat an uneven rhythm—entering into an agreement with a man she hardly knew, staying in his home, handing over the little boy she’d already grown to love more than she’d thought possible. She did everything she could to ignore the feeling in the pit of her stomach, the one saying that each passing minute was another step away from what she was supposed to be doing—leaving nannying behind, once and for all.

      Stop being negative. This is good for Oliver. She had to believe that. Really, it was the best scenario for him—a transition period where his new dad could become acquainted with parenting. They’d find a nanny, set up the nursery. In ten days, this sweet little boy would be given the best possible start at a new life. And she’d get back to hers in Boston, a simple and solitary existence with its own rewards, the most notable of which was the chance to pursue a career that didn’t leave her so open to heartbreak.

      They stepped onto the elevator and Sarah closed her eyes to ward off her claustrophobia. Plus, every time she looked at Aiden, he got to her with his all-knowing gaze. No wonder the man had such a reputation with the ladies. Most women were probably too mesmerized by his penetrating stare to entertain a single lucid thought beyond, Of course, Aiden. Whatever you want, Aiden.

      The elevator dinged, and John, loaded down with the bulk of the baby supplies, held the door for Sarah as she wheeled Oliver off the elevator. They entered a stunning foyer with glossy wood floors, an exotic carved console table and several colorful abstract paintings. Aiden followed with his laptop bag, Sarah’s suitcase and the teddy bear, which was a nice counterpoint to his tailored gray suit and midnight-blue tie.

      “Where would you like these, Mr. Langford?” John asked.

      “Just leave them here. I’m not entirely sure where everything is going yet.”

      John did as instructed, neatly placing the bags on the table.

      “Thank you so much for the help. I really appreciate it,” Sarah said to John.

      He turned and looked at her as if she had a unicorn horn sprouting from her forehead. “It’s my job, ma’am.”

      “Well, we came with a lot of stuff. I’m sure Mr. Langford doesn’t normally make you lug stuffed animals and diaper bags.”

      “I’m happy to do it. But thank you. For saying thank you.” He smiled warmly.

      Aiden watched the back and forth. “That’s it for now, John. I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”

      “I’ll be downstairs, Mr. Langford.” John stepped onto the elevator and the doors slid closed.

      “He’s really nice,” Sarah said. “We talked quite a bit while we were figuring how to get the car seat into the SUV. He told me all about his wife and kids. Good guy.”

      “Of course. A very good guy.” Everything in Aiden’s voice said that he didn’t know the first thing about his driver, and that it quite possibly had never occurred to him to ask.

      “Now what?” Sarah wanted Aiden to take the lead. His house. His baby.

      “Tell me why a baby needs a stuffed animal this large.”

      Sarah shrugged, unsubtly peeking ahead at what she could see of the apartment, which seemed to stretch on for days. “Kids love to have things to snuggle with. And eventually, Oliver will be bigger than the bear.”

      “Ah. I see.”

      “You’ll learn.”

      “I have a feeling I won’t have a choice.” Aiden leaned her small suitcase against the wall and propped the bear up on top of it. “And how did you get all of this onto a train, then off a train and into the city, all by yourself?”

      “Let’s just say that I relied on the kindness of strangers. And I’m a very good tipper. I managed.”

      “You’re resourceful. I’ll give you that much.”

      Sarah went to get Oliver out of his stroller, but decided it was time to start the learning process. “Aiden. Here. You unbuckle him and get him out.”

      “You sure? I don’t have the first clue what I’m doing.”

      “You have to start somewhere.”

      Aiden crouched down and Oliver messed with his hair while Aiden tried to decipher the maze of straps and buckles. Sarah watched, not wanting to interfere. Oliver was doing enough on his own, tugging on Aiden’s jacket and kicking him in the chest.

      Aiden sat back on his haunches, raking his hair from his face. “Is he always like this? So full of energy and into everything?”

      “Unless he’s asleep, yes. Now pick him up.”

      Aiden threaded his massive hands under the baby’s tiny arms, lifting him as if he might break him if he went too fast, then holding Oliver awkwardly against his torso.

      “Bend your arm and let him sit in the crook of your elbow.” Sarah shifted Oliver into position. She straightened Aiden’s suit coat while she was at it. She stood back and admired the change.