by Alyson Hale
I used to use my money to spoil my family, and I still use the money to spoil Hudson, but unfortunately my ex-wife saw my fortune as an opportunity. She used all the money from our joint savings account to hire a lawyer, who convinced a judge that she deserved half of everything…except time with Hudson. She didn’t even try to win custody of him. All she cared about was getting her half of the fortune I’d made. It shattered my heart—not for me, but for my little boy. Having loving parents as I did, I can’t even imagine a parent not fighting for their child. I misjudged Britney terribly, because I truly thought when I married her that she was a kind, loving person. Money changes people, which is why I’ve decided to keep my fortune a secret from everyone except close family. My company and its net worth are not well-known, which is another perk of not having a physical business presence. If I ever get married again, I want to know the person doesn’t value money or physical possessions above me. The mistake I made with Britney was telling her how much I was making, even in college, and obviously it made her greedy.
After I’ve finished cleaning the pool, I put away the net and other tools inside the pool house and hurry inside, hoping Hudson hasn’t caused too much trouble for his astonishingly sexy, young babysitter. Every time I think about Cheyenne’s developed adult frame, I shudder with lust. Then I immediately cringe. I wish I could stop these thoughts from assaulting me, but they’ve been popping up ever since I laid eyes on her a couple of hours ago. Tonight, I’m going to have to take care of this massive, relentless boner she gave me. It’s the first one I’ve ever had that won’t go down even when I’m busy ridding a pool of grime and insect corpses.
When I walk in the French doors in the rear of the house, I hear a small voice calling to me from the Jefferson’s kitchen.
“Da-ee?”
A smile grows on my face. Hearing that little voice is the only thing that has kept me going through this hellish divorce. My boy needs me, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to quit on life as long as he’s around.
As soon as I turn the corner into the kitchen, the iron casing surrounding my heart melts away. My little boy is sitting on Cheyenne’s lap on a chair at the kitchen table, and she’s pulled up his favorite show on her phone for him. He’s watching intently, grinning as he points at things and tells her about them. She’s smiling and engaged as she acknowledges him. The way he’s cuddled into her—head on her shoulder, tucked into her neck under her right ear—it’s as if they’ve known each other all his life. He only relaxes like that when he’s truly comfortable with someone. Two hours, and he’s treating her like she’s a member of the family.
“Hey, you two,” I say softly, trying not to disturb the lovely picture in front of me. I pass by them to the counter where a plate of fresh chocolate chip cookies is sitting. Sweet treats aren’t really my poison anymore, but I can enjoy a homemade baked good just as much as anyone else. As soon as the cookie makes contact with my mouth, I lose control of myself and moan deeply.
“Cheyenne, these cookies are phenomenal.”
“Thanks.” Cheyenne beams up at me, stopping my heartbeat. “It was my mother’s recipe.” A flicker of sadness enters her eyes and disappears as quickly as it came.
“She was an excellent cook,” I tell her as I scoop up two more cookies in a napkin and join them at the table. She smiles her appreciation. Just looking over the curves of her face, the fullness of her lips, the stray curls around her forehead…I lose myself in the fantasy of her for a brief moment. What will it be like coming downstairs to this picture every day after work?
“So did you guys have fun while I was out there?”
“Yeah,” Hudson pipes up. “Coo-ies and Tie-tops.”
“It took me forever to figure out who ‘Tie-tops’ was,” Cheyenne confesses, her melodic giggle lightening the room.
“Thomas the Tank Engine.” I grin after swallowing a bite of cookie. “That was my favorite as a kid, too.”
“I liked him, too,” Cheyenne says.
“Yeah, I remember. I thought it was funny that a girl would beg her father to make her a train table, but you did, and he made it, and it was awesome.”
“You played with me for hours on that thing.” She smiles at the memories, and I can’t help but mirror her. The beauty of her smile is infectious. I could be having the shittiest day ever and feel better just from seeing her smile. “You know what? I think we still have that train table somewhere. Does Hudson have one already?”
I furrow my brows in thought. Out of all the things we moved here for Hudson, including a bunk bed, I don’t think a train table was one of them.
“No, he doesn’t. I don’t know why we never got him one.”
“You guys should take mine. It’s just up in our attic taking up space. A little dusting and setting up, and it should be good as new.”
“Cheyenne, we couldn’t take that from you—”
“I insist.”
I look at her in awe. She’s offering a prized childhood possession, something her father made for her by hand, to Hudson just because it’s something he would enjoy. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone this generous before.
“You would really give him your train table?
Pressing her fingers against his soft hair, Cheyenne rubs Hudson’s cowlick down and gives him a quick kiss. “Of course. He’s such a sweetheart. Every train lover needs a train table, and Dad made me the best one in the world. I’m happy to share it as long as I can come over and play with him.”
Relief floods me. Somehow I just know, without giving it any further thought, that I’m safe trusting my child to her during the day.
“How about I bring it over tonight, and you can play with it tomorrow?”
Cheyenne’s gaze snaps even with mine. “Tomorrow?”
“Yes. I’d love it if you could start babysitting for me tomorrow. That’s not too soon, is it?”
She clears her throat, chuckling nervously. “Oh no, definitely not.” She brushes stray hairs away from her face and neck, and for a moment all I can think about is burying my face in her soft, exposed skin…
Fuck me. I’ve got to get this attraction to my new babysitter under control.
“I’m working from home, so I’ll be upstairs in my new office if you need anything,” I tell her, trying to distract myself. “When you come over in the morning, I’ll explain his schedule for the day and anything else you might need to know.”
Cheyenne nods, smiling brightly. It seems like she’s just as excited about this trade-off as I am. She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m planning on paying her amply for her services and I won’t be accepting any money in return. She’s truly saving my life—my business, more specifically. I haven’t created a new app in months thanks to this divorce bullshit. If I don’t go back to work soon, my investors are going to cut me off.
Hudson is a good boy, but he’s active and a handful. I’ll still keep up my end of the bargain and take care of their house, but there’s no way I’m going to let her devote forty or more hours a week to us without getting what she deserves.
“Is eight o’clock okay?” she asks, seeming a little bit timid. She’s going to learn over the next few weeks that she doesn’t need to be afraid to ask me for anything. I’d give her the moon and then some.
“Eight is perfect.” I hold out a hand, and she shakes it. The pulse that shoots up my arm at the sensation of her touch is spellbinding. Our eyes meet, and she breaks eye contact quickly, shyly almost. I can’t tell if she’s having the same thoughts I am or if she’s just shy around men.
One thing is certain; I’m going to have to lock myself in the office tomorrow and forget about the little girl next door. The future of my company is at stake.
Chapter Three
My heart is pounding when I walk up the Sherwoods’ front steps the next morning. I did my makeup and hair and dressed conservatively. My breezy blouse and black slacks communicate professionalism in accordance with my business classes at school. I want Grant to see that
I care about him and his son, and I intend to do this job as if I’m getting paid.
I rub my sweaty palms together and ring the doorbell. It isn’t long before I hear tiny feet pitter-pattering toward the door. My face cracks into a smile. Hudson must be excited to see me again, which is a great sign.
Having Hudson yesterday was the most fun I’ve had in a while. He is such a sweet kid, and watching Thomas with him was like going back in time to my own childhood. I can tell we’re going to get along just fine. He seems to trust me already, which means Grant has done a great job. One sign of a good parent is a well-adjusted child. It’s amazing how comfortable he was with me, especially considering his family life has been turned upside-down as of late.
The doorknob rattles, and I hear a tiny voice inside saying—
“Da-ee! Op’ door! Op’ door!”
I’m giggling when the door opens and Grant appears, looking a bit disheveled with his hair flying out in all directions but still as handsome as ever. He’s still wearing pajama bottoms, and his white tank top accentuates his bronze skin and sculpted shoulder muscles. I want to gape at them and drool, but then I remember my professional approach and keep eye contact.
“Rough morning?” I tease.
Grant rakes his hand through his hair and laughs. His dimples make their appearance, and I feel my knees quiver.
“Little bit. This one has been running all over the place. I just got him sitting down at the table for breakfast, and then you rang.”
I cringe. “Sorry. That must be frustrating.”
“No, it’s all right.” He stands to the side and holds out his arm. “Please, come in. You can join us for breakfast.”
“Thank you.” I step inside the house, grateful for the offer. I meant to grab something to eat before I left the house, but I was too nervous to eat. I’m spending the whole day in Grant Sherwood’s house with him right upstairs. After spending time with him yesterday, I can no longer deny that my crush on him is still alive and well. I’m going to be queasy all day, or at least I thought I was. Somehow looking at him now, in his natural environment, looking sexy as all hell, I’m feeling more hungry than queasy.
The train table is sitting off to the right in Hudson’s playroom. I smile at the sight of Hudson’s trains and cars already scattered all over it. It’s obvious he’s gotten in some good play time this morning.
Hudson takes me by the hand and pulls me into the kitchen. “Pa’cakes!”
“I guess you must be having pancakes for breakfast,” I say to Grant, laughing.
He chuckles in reply. I can’t get enough of watching him laugh. “Yeah. Blueberry pancakes, his favorite.”
“Ooh, I love blueberry.” I grin down at Hudson, who lets out a squeal of excitement as he runs, making his voice vibrate.
Hudson and I sit down at the kitchen table, and Grant brings over a plate of slightly burnt pancakes that still smell delicious. As we’re pouring syrup over the fluffy brown concoctions, Grant gives me a quick run-down of Hudson’s schedule. It’s all pretty standard: breakfast at seven thirty, indoor playtime until ten, outside play until lunch, lunch at twelve, and so on. I try to listen carefully, but my attention keeps drifting to Grant’s lips as he talks. I keep imagining how sweet his mouth must taste right now, with the tang of the blueberries and the richness of the syrup mixing together in perfect harmony…
I give my head a little shake and thrust another forkful of pancake in my mouth, wondering what the hell is going on inside my brain. My attraction to him now as opposed to ten years ago is so different. I’ve become a pervert over the years. I’m glad he can’t see what I’m thinking.
Before long, breakfast is over, and I start picking up the dishes for Grant so he can get on with his day. He tries to help bring the dishes to the sink, but I jump in front of him to stop him. His hand accidentally lands on my hip on his way to reaching toward the table.
His gaze snaps up to meet mine, and a current of electricity buzzes between us. My heart turns into a snare drum in my chest. I jerk backward, nervous laughter bursting out of my throat.
“I’m so sorry,” I offer, but he holds up his hand.
“That was on me.” He steps back, letting me take over. “I take it you don’t want me picking up the dishes.”
“No, you’ve done enough. Breakfast was great. I’ve got this now. Go get to work.” Smiling, I shoo him off. “We’ll be fine, right buddy?”
I glance at Hudson, whose grin is denting his blueberry-stained face. “P’ay trains?”
“Of course, as soon as you’re all cleaned up.” I lead him to the kitchen sink and stand him on a stool to wash his hands. When Grant lingers, I shoo him away again. “Seriously, go. We’re good.”
Grant’s smile radiates relief. “You’re the best, Cheyenne. A lifesaver. Really. I can’t thank you enough.”
My cheeks burn red-hot. “It’s my pleasure.”
His eyes narrow for a second, and then he turns away and I watch his fine ass walk toward the staircase. Soon he’s out of sight, but the images of his face and body are still burned into my brain. I’d never be able to forget him, no matter how long he was gone.
It had been weeks since I’d seen Grant, and I was getting very lonely without my next-door playmate. Grant had been at summer camp until the first week of August. Being without him that summer had made everything seem so bleak in the neighborhood. Throwing a Frisbee and swimming in the pool weren’t any fun without someone to hang out with. I had the occasional school friend over, and some of the neighborhood kids would play with me, but not many. I had never been popular, but that didn’t matter when Grant was around. He didn’t care how many friends I had; he would always be my friend. I knew I could count on him to always be ready to play with me.
Finally, one day in early August, his parents took off in their SUV to bring him home. I waited for hours on the porch stoop waiting for him to return. When they finally drove into their driveway, I couldn’t contain myself any longer. I raced across the yard and hopped the fence between our houses, barreling into Grant’s arms the moment he emerged from the car.
“Whoa—hey!” Grant chuckled as he returned my embrace. “How are ya, Squirt?”
“I’m so happy you’re home,” I said with a huge grin.
“Aw.” Grant ruffled the top of my head and placed his hands on my shoulders, pulling back to look at me. “I thought you would have forgotten all about me by now.” He winked so I knew he was joking.
“Never, never, never.” I shook my head so hard, my pigtails started slapping me in the face.
Grant squatted down to my level and reached into his back pocket. “I got something for you at camp.” A gel pen topped with a feather appeared in his hand, and I squealed.
“It’s so pretty!” I wiggled the pen back and forth to watch the feather flip around in the breeze. Then I remembered my manners. “Thank you, Grant.”
“You’re very welcome. Did you have a good summer?”
I frowned. “No. You were gone.” I said it like it was the most obvious thing in the whole world.
He laughed deep in his throat. Grant’s voice was getting lower and lower. I wasn’t quite sure why, but I liked it. “Well I promise I’ll be around for the rest of the school year. Can’t miss out on our snowball fights, after all.”
“I’m gonna beat your butt this year,” I promised, mimicking throwing snowballs with my free hand.
Grant cocked an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that.” He rose to his feet and waved to me. “I gotta go unpack, but I’ll see ya later, Squirt.”
“Bye, Grant!” I waved and took off with my gel pen, feeling like the happiest, luckiest girl in the world.
Chapter Four
Sighing, I stand up from the dinner table and stretch my arms, trying to bring some comfort into my aching limbs. For the past few months, I’ve been staying active, spending long hours at the gym to work through the thoughts spinning through my head on overdrive. Sitting still in an office
chair all day after that feels like being a bird locked in a cage; however, I did get a lot of work done today. More than I have in months. Now that I’ve gotten back into a groove, I’m sure I’ll get back to cranking out new apps every week just like I did back in college.
When I came down the stairs after work, Cheyenne already had dinner prepared. Her chicken casserole was so good I had two large helpings of it. She grinned and blushed when I told her how good it was. Something about seeing her flushed in the kitchen with a frilly pink-and-purple apron on sent my hormones racing, and I can’t get away from her fast enough. If I don’t, I’m bound to take something that isn’t rightfully mine.
I bring Hudson’s and my dishes to the sink and use a warm, wet rag to clean the little boy’s face. When even my picky three-year-old gobbles down a meal, you know it’s good. He smiles when I release him and immediately takes off to play with his train table.
When I turn around, Cheyenne is standing behind me. Her apron has been removed, but three buttons on her shirt are still undone and her face looks warm. I try to keep my eyes from wandering to her exposed cleavage. Our oven gives off a crazy amount of heat, especially in the summer, so I don’t fault her for that, but fuck. She hasn’t the slightest idea what she’s doing to me.
“Dinner was amazing,” I compliment her again, and she smiles shyly.
“Thank you. I don’t mind staying around until Hudson’s in bed if you need some extra help.”
For a second, I consider telling her “no,” but my weariness makes my resolve weaken and I nod.
“That would be great. How was he today?”
Her face lights up. “He was perfect. We went over the alphabet and numbers today. He already knows a lot, but I think he’s starting to really get how to count to fifteen.”
Pride wells up in my chest. “I knew my boy was smart.”
“Just like his Daddy.” Cheyenne winks. “I heard all about your good grades in college. If your mama was any prouder of you, I think she would burst.”
