The Baby Deal. Kat CantrellЧитать онлайн книгу.
Mikey higher on her chest and brushed her lips across his baby-fine hair with a tiny smile. “It’s a project I’ve been thinking about for a while and I need a good platform. Teaching a man to be a father is great in and of itself. The fact that it’s you will make it a bestseller.”
“You want to use my name in a book?” A half step away from selling the story to a tabloid, and partly the reason why he was here instead of interviewing someone from Nannies-R-Us. “That’s going a little far.”
“You asked my price. I’m not the one with the problem.”
Apparently it was a negotiation. One day, he’d learn to think before speaking. Before it was too late to take back his words. “Only if I get approval of the final version and you stay at my house so you can be on call all the time. That’s my price.”
Looked like today wasn’t the day he’d learn his lesson because he definitely could have thought of a better way to phrase that. He hadn’t meant that kind of on call. But now he was thinking about it. A beautiful, single woman would be in his house, eating, sleeping—did she still sleep naked?
Her expression blanked. “I’d prefer to do it via video conferencing. Virtual consulting is as good as in person.”
“Not to me. I want total immersion. Mikey responds to you. I barely know how to change diapers and I have no idea what else I don’t know. I want to be a dad who puts Band-Aids on his knee and throws a ball in the backyard. That doesn’t happen automatically.”
Not even when the dad shared DNA with his son. Shay’s own father had never done Band-Aids or ball-throwing. The first time Shay had picked up Mikey after being awarded custody, he knew instantly he would be a different kind of dad, the kind he’d always wanted. The best replacement dad he could be. He had every intention of living up to the confidence Grant had in him.
Softness stole across her mouth. “No. It doesn’t. It takes commitment and sacrifice and it starts in the cradle. Some parents don’t understand that. It says a lot that you do.”
“Thanks.” He shrugged, unsure why the compliment meant so much. “Will you do it?”
“What’s the time frame? The breadth of fatherhood is a lot to cover in a week.”
“Then stay for six months. A year. I’ll double the money.”
She shook her head and frowned. “I can’t leave my practice that long. Some of these kids are really damaged. They need me.”
“They can get another therapist. I can’t get another you.”
Their gazes crashed and she held him captive, drawing out a connection that pulled him in like a magnet. She felt it, too—he could see the sway of her shoulders. Was she remembering how good it had been? The idea fed his own memory, and he couldn’t shut off the video in his head.
He’d moved on because he’d had no choice. Didn’t mean he’d forgotten the curves now hiding under her prim suit or the way she kept a good hold on him as she blasted him into outer space. The way she’d been the only one he’d wanted waiting for him when he came back to Earth.
“Perhaps we should discuss the nature of the arrangement you’re offering.” Her dry tone left no doubt she’d been right there with him on the trip down memory lane. “It’s strictly professional or no deal.”
He’d also never forgotten what had happened after he’d broken his leg snowboarding. She’d said sayonara and left his heart in pieces that never fit back together quite the same way. There was no worse pain than being told you weren’t okay exactly the way you were. Her love was conditional, available only if he became someone else, someone safe and acceptable.
He could hire a nanny tomorrow. Ask his mom for advice. But he wanted the best and he’d pay the emotional price for it.
“Of course. I’m interested in you for your expertise,” he said, but it was only half the truth.
He was also, suddenly, perversely, interested in proving to Juliana she’d made a big mistake by walking out on him. In proving he could get under the skin of this buttoned-up Juliana who was clearly willing to ignore the humming vibe between them. By the time he was through, she wouldn’t be ignoring anything. And she’d admit she wanted him. As is.
“I’ll help you,” she said, leaving him rabidly curious about why she’d agreed. Because of Mikey, the book or that trip down memory lane? He’d never been able to read her and the mystery intrigued him. “For a couple of months. I have to make arrangements for my clients and it’ll take a week or so. I’d like to see each of them personally to explain my absence.”
It was done. Relief flooded that empty place hollowed out by the explosion. The most qualified consultant money could buy would help him become the father Mikey deserved. If he was smart, he’d leave it at that.
He’d rather rattle Dr. Cane than play it safe.
Two
Two months. She should have her head examined.
The baby had won her over and Juliana wasn’t ashamed to admit Shay had played her like a maestro. How had he known Mikey’s sweet face would be the clincher? Lucky guess? Calculated offensive?
Either way, here she was in West Texas, descending a set of metal stairs locked to the hatch of a GGS Aerospace jet, a mere five days after Shay had showed up on her doorstep. Fate and a great assistant had seen to fitting all fifteen of her clients into a two-day block, and then she’d had no more excuses.
What was it about Shay’s proposal that set her on edge like the screech of an out-of-tune string?
The book deal would make this experience well worth her while. The yearning to nurture flowed through her veins, sometimes so fast and thick she feared they would burst, and she couldn’t let all that love for babies go to waste. She wanted to share everything she’d learned.
The money would be welcome, too. Half a year’s salary for two months’ work was highway robbery but Shay hadn’t fluttered an eyelid at the figure. In vitro procedures and student loans for a PhD certainly did not come cheaply, and she’d appreciate a faster decline in her debt.
So why did it feel like the bottom would drop out from under her at any moment?
A low-slung maroon Acura sat on the tarmac a healthy distance from the plane. Shay leaned against the rear end, his hip resting against the car casually, arms crossed. Today he’d opted for the trademark ball cap. Backward, as always.
So he did still wear caps. The sight threw her back in time for a moment, reminding her of when she’d mostly seen him without it. In bed.
She shuddered and willed away the punch to her abdomen.
He was one big chunk of vibrant, testosterone-filled man. So not her type. A younger and stupider Juliana had thrown caution to the wind, ignoring how incompatible they were, reveling in the wild buzz of his no-holds-barred approach to everything. She’d never do that again.
“You have Tony Stark’s car?” she asked by way of greeting. “And they let you drive it onto the runway?”
“Comes with owning the runway.” He grinned that whole-face grin she’d never been able to take her eyes off of. “I bought my NSX before The Avengers came out, by the way. How do you know what kind of car Tony Stark drives?”
“Three of my clients are teenagers. Girls with movie-star crushes.” Gritty wind blew across the open space of GGS Aerospace, stinging her skin with its sandy teeth. “So is this where all the magic happens?”
“Some. There’s a hangar around back for the jet and the office is about a half mile away.” He nodded to the sleek glass-and-marble building at the edge of the tarmac. “This will eventually be the commercial hub once we get the space tourism division up and running. Once I get it running.”
Stylish sunglasses