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Burn for You Page 7
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Page 7
Shit. I have got to stop putting the word position and Landry in the same sentence.
“Landry isn’t like Paisley, or any other girl you’ve dated,” she says bluntly.
No, she’s sexually inexperienced. Something that, despite myself, I find sexy as hell. “I don’t plan on dating her.”
“Plans can always change,” she points out, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t want my best friend to get hurt, because you decide to seduce her.”
My jaw works. “I don’t plan on seducing her.” A weak defense, I know, but what else can I say to defend myself?
Meagan makes a noise of disbelief. “I saw how you were looking at her.” She uncrosses her arms and taps her chin. “Then again, every guy looks at her like that.”
Jealousy surges, stunning me with its intensity. I don’t want any guy but me looking at her, but I sure as hell can’t admit that to Meagan. Or anyone else for that matter. “Does she have a boyfriend?”
“As her new employer, you can’t ask that.”
Jealousy gives way to irritation. “I’m not asking her. I’m asking you.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to know what I’m—” I swallow. I almost said up against. Like I had competition. “Dealing with. Will he get mad if I take her to Monaco?”
Meagan smirks. “Still not answering.”
“Thanks,” I say sarcastically. “Great talking to you.” I stride to the hospital, heading inside. I give blood and plasma for two reasons. One—because I’m O positive, which means my blood can be given to anyone. Two—I have to be tested to make sure I’m disease free to give it.
When I’m with Paisley, I don’t fuck around, but she doesn’t adhere to that same courtesy. Yet another reason why I’ve been mostly done with her for so long. If it weren’t for Mia, I would be completely done with her.
As I greet the nurses, I check the time on the clock above their station. Landry volunteers in the neonatal intensive care unit from one to three. She’s a baby cuddler, a person who holds and rocks babies too tiny and too sick to go home.
I can’t imagine how hard and easy it must be to cuddle those babies. Some don’t ever go home. My throat gets a little thick at the thought of Mia being in one of those units.
Taking a sustaining breath, I sit in my usual place until I’m called back. I follow a nurse to one of the tiny rooms in the back and take a seat on the examination table.
James, the head nurse, comes inside, flipping through my test results and smiling. “Free and clear of everything, as usual,” he says, placing the clipboard full of paper in a hanging tray. “I’m ready when you are.”
“How are Henry and Charlie?” I ask, rolling up my sleeve and lying back while James grabs a small tray on the counter and sets it on a rolling tray.
“Running Karen ragged, but what can you expect with Irish twins?” he says with a smile. He snaps on latex gloves. “Fist, please.” I curl my fingers into my palm, and then he ties a band around my arm. His movements are efficient as he finds the vein, cleans it, and then sticks me with the needle. “How’s Mia?”
“Giving up her morning nap, so crying. A lot.”
James runs a hand through his red hair. “Ouch. Those are the worst. They’re still tired, but they don’t want to miss anything. Worse Catch-22 imaginable, until something else comes along to mess with your sanity.”
I laugh. “Yeah, right now she’s with her mother. So, I’m getting a little break.”
“Breaks are good.” He checks over me once more, then pulls off the latex gloves and throws them away. “I need to run over to NICU in about five minutes. My cousin’s newest is in there, and I promised to update her every half hour while she’s at work. My nephew has been here for two weeks.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too. But we’re doing the best we can to help him.”
Gesturing to the needle with my free hand, I say, “Get going. Pretty sure I’ll be here when you get back.” Then it hits me: NICU. Maybe James knows Landry. “Are you friendly with any of the baby cuddlers?”
James nods. “A couple of the regulars, and then the new girl. Although why we still call her the new girl, I’m not sure. She’s been regularly volunteering for two months now.”
“Landry Basnight.”
“You know her?”
“Yeah.” It’s not a lie. I do know her. I just don’t know her beyond two meetings and a resume. “We’ve talked a couple of times.”
“She’s a sweet girl.” He leans against the door, crossing his arms over his chest. “But the first couple of times she was here... Man, I didn’t think she would make it.”
“Why?”
“The sight of blood makes her nauseated. Not just a little sick either. Full-blown retching in the bathroom. It was just her luck that on her first day, right as she walked in, an emergency came through the back doors. But she stuck through it, and now she barely turns green. The babies seem to love her. Staff too. It’s a shame she’ll be leaving to go nanny for some rich guy.” James grins. “No offense.”
I can tell he’s impressed with her. Hell, I’m impressed with her. “None taken.” Even if I’m the rich guy. James and I have been acquainted for years, and he speaks his mind. It’s not something I can trust a lot of people to do, beyond my buddies.
A woman walks in, holding a tray of orange juice and cookies. “Sarah,” I call out.
She smiles. “I’m here to relieve James.”
“Thanks. Five more minutes and he’s done,” he says to her, and then turns to me. “See you next week.”
“Can’t. I’m going out of the country.”
“You’ll have to wait twelve month before you can donate again.” His face is impossible to read.
Guilt eats at me. This was one thing I hated about fulfilling a dream of mine, and it’s always been the main reason why I declined going abroad for anything. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being selfish, but—”
James holds up his hands. “Don’t apologize. You’ve been giving blood since you were seventeen, without fail. That’s pretty selfless, Beau.”
“Thanks.”
Nodding once, he leaves the room.
After placing the goodie tray down, Sarah glances at her watch. “Another minute and then it’s snack time. You can leave after you’ve eaten.”
“Great.”
It’s almost two thirty by the time I’m done. I hover between going to check on Landry, to see if she’ll talk to me, or just leaving her alone. I still have a lot to do to get ready for my trip, including fitting in some track time in a borrowed Formula One car.
Before I can stop myself, I make my way to the neonatal unit, stopping at the door. I can’t go in there, because I’m not on the approved list.
Damn it.
Suddenly, Landry appears, holding a baby in her arms. I can’t take my eyes off her as she paces back and forth. Light coming in from an unseen window casts a halo around her brown hair, making her look like an angel.
A little hand reaches out, touching her chin, and Landry smiles. She gently hefts the baby closer. Landry’s pink mouth is opening and closing slightly. She’s singing to the baby, and from what I can tell, enjoying every minute of it.
Between what little James revealed about Landry, and my instincts about her, I know she’s the perfect woman for me—shit. The perfect nanny for Mia.
I have to go. I need to go. Maintaining a professional relationship does not include stalking a woman. Only, I’m frozen in place, unable to stop watching her, unable to stop my heart from kicking against my chest each time she reappears in my line of sight.
Landry turns to face me, but her gaze is on the baby in her arms. I know I need to leave. For her to find me here would be more than I care to explain. I make myself turn. I make my legs move.
“Get out of here, rookie,” I growl. No good can come of this. No matter how much I want Landry Basnight, I won’t even attempt to claim her.
Fucking gre
at. I sound like a caveman.
I push open the doors of the hospital and head outside. Needing to blow off a little steam, I drive to the one place that can help me.
Charlotte Motor Speedway.
Chapter Nine
Landry
My phone vibrates as soon as I finish washing dishes with Jamie.
Drying my hands quickly, I reach in my back pocket and pull it out, not exactly surprised at the sender.
This is Beau. Are you free tomorrow?
I hesitate a little, before answering truthfully.
Me: Yes.
Even though I am still embarrassed by the phrase Meagan uttered in front of Beau, I had planned on moving my things in over the next couple of days. I knew we weren’t leaving for Monaco until the end of next week, but Kimmie had relayed that Beau wanted time for Mia and me to become comfortable around each other, which is completely sensible and utterly unnerving.
Beau: Lunch?
Does he want me to watch Mia while he goes on lunch date? I shake my head. Of course he wants me to watch Mia. I’m the nanny, not his newest love interest.
Me: I’ll be there at noon.
Beau: See you then.
I stare at my phone a little longer than necessary, while I wonder if I should text him back. Our conversation, no matter how brief, is over.
Meagan: O.M.G! Beau totally asked about your relationship status today.
My eyes widen at Meagan’s text.
Me: Are you serious?
Meagan: As a heart attack!!
Trust the future doctor to use that.
Me: What did you say?
Meagan: That it was none of his business. I wanted to make sure I made up for opening my fat mouth about your experiences.
Heat rises to my cheeks.
Me: I’m not mad. You’re forgiven.
She sends me a little emoticon of a face blowing out a breath and wiping off its face. I send her a kissy face one back.
Meagan: He was really interested in you.
My heart, despite my brain telling me that he was doing more background checking, speeds up.
Me: Pffft. He wanted to make sure no crazy bf would come around his daughter.
Meagan: I don’t think so
Me: It has to be so
Meagan: Make it so, Number One.
Oh great, we’ve fallen into a geek pop culture reference. If I don’t lead her away from this rabbit trail, I’ll never get her back on topic.
Me: Seriously. It can’t be because of anything else. That would be... weird.
Meagan: I guess.
Me: I have to finish packing. Moving in tomorrow.
Meagan: OK. I’ll come by next week before you leave to say goodbye in person. Martini Manicures are on me.
Me: Can’t wait!
*** *** ***
The next day, I arrive at Beau’s house, precisely at noon, and park my car. It’s a warm, sultry May day. Perfect for lying out by his pool while Mia takes her nap. I’m pretty sure, as long as I know how long he’ll be, that I can get some tanning in.
I tug on a suitcase and nearly land on my butt when it finally gives.
“Need a little help?”
I cast my gaze to the side, taking in the man walking up to me. Once again, Beau’s all casual, wearing dark jeans and a graphic t-shirt. His lip ring gleams in the sun. He’s so sexy and confident that I want to tackle him.
I really need to work on my reaction to him. I can’t be a slave to my lust or ovaries when I see him with his daughter.
“If you don’t mind taking this bag,” I hand it to him. Our fingers brush each others, and my entire body feels it, “I’ll get the other two.”
He hoists my suitcase, as if it didn’t weigh a hundred pounds. It sends his shirt riding up and reveals not only an eight pack but tattoos on the front of his hips. My knees get all weak and my mouth waters with anticipation, like my tongue is all about licking him. I try to look somewhere else, but all I get is forearms bulging, or his luscious lips.
I’m being punished for being so good over the years. God, I want to be bad with Beau Montgomery.
“I can carry those, too,” he says. “Or anything else you need.” The way he says need makes it sound like he’s referring to more than just luggage. Like he could take care of my needs.
A vision of him moving over me hits me hard.
“Landry?”
My reply is more of a two syllable non-response than a coherent no. This is stupid. He’s just a guy, a really hot guy, who just so happens to be a really hot dad, who also tried to protect me from unwanted attention at King’s. Nothing special.
LIAR.
His gray eyes twinkle at me, like he knows what I’m thinking, because every woman in her right mind would think the exact same thing. “Okay, then. Follow me and I’ll show you to your room.”
I trail behind him, trying to take in what I missed on my first visit, while I wonder if Mia is already sleeping. We go upstairs and take a left, stopping at the second door.
“This is your room. There are two other bedrooms here, but for the most part, you’ll have this side of the house to yourself. Mia and I have rooms on the opposite side of the stairs.” He opens the door and gestures for me to go inside.
The room is pretty, almost stunning, and it’s huge. Big enough to have a sitting area and a king-sized bed. The bed is a classic rice bed, one I recognize because my mother is a Southern Living magazine enthusiast. The canopy is missing. Maybe the decorator thought it would be too girly. Or maybe I’m too girly, because I wish it wasn’t missing. The rest of the bedroom is gorgeous, done up whites and turquoise with splashes of orange.
“What do you think?” Beau asks.
“That’s a huge bed for one person to sleep in,” I blurt, immediately flushing. Just what I need to talk about—beds and sleeping, because a guy will make it beds and screwing.
“Would you like a smaller bed?” Is that a teasing gleam in his eyes?
I shake my head. “No.” This is going so well.
“My stepmother, Judith, decorated the room, but if it’s not to your taste—”
“I love it,” I say firmly. “The colors, the bed, the... everything.”
“Good.” He sucks in his lip ring as he sets down my suitcase. “Hope you brought your appetite.”
Crap. I didn’t think about lunch. I was too anxious to eat anything more than an apple. I plop my bags on a chair wrapped in orange and white paisley fabric, then take a deep breath. “Do you mind if I put my dorm fridge in here?”
His nose wrinkles a little. “Why would you need it?”
“To put my perishables in.”
Obviously nonplussed, he stares at me a moment. “Landry, you can eat anything you want in this house. I do a weekly grocery order and if you want to add to it, then be my guest.”
“Ah.” I feel like a total idiot. Turning away from him, I pick up a pillow and clutch it to my chest. “I’ll fix myself a sandwich in a little bit. How long has Mia been sleeping?”
Beau touches my shoulder, and I turn around. He’s standing so close that I can breathe in the scent of him. Awareness of him washes over me. It’s like that night at King’s all over again when I sat in his lap combined with when he backed me up against the bookcase in his living room. He’s dominating and safe all at once. An odd combination.
“Mia’s not here,” he says, his voice all gruff. “We’re the only ones in this house.”
I blink up at him, my mouth parting. “You mean I’m not here to babysit her while you go on a lunch date?”
“No.”
My vision becomes unfocused, and I drag in my next breath of air. I can’t get enough oxygen.
I’m alone.
All alone.
With Beau.
I drop the pillow onto the seat of the chair.
Beau
Landry’s pretty eyes go wide, becoming a dark green, before her gaze drops. Her chest rapidly rises and falls under her white top, li
ke I’ve caught her after a run in the park.
After being in her company twice before, I know what that means, and I want to take advantage of it. She’s turned on. She wants me.
My head dips, and her hands come to rest against my chest. Small and delicate, they burn me with their light touch. I wrap my hands around her wrists, tightening my grip until she gasps.
Fascinated with her glossy mouth, I bend my knees a little and try to get her attention. “You are my lunch date.” She licks her lips, and I want to capture that pink, little tongue. “I’m having you for lunch.” I’m fully aware of what I just said. I’m fully aware that I’m pushing against the boundaries I had set for myself last night, before I had texted her.
“I don’t understand,” she finally says, pulling her hands out of my grip and snapping me out of my trance.
“You. Me. Food. Eating it. I hear it’s what people do.” I wink at her and take a step back to give us space. Only, I’m not sure a step is enough, so I walk over to the windows that face the backyard and open the plantation blinds. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more clear.”
“That’s, um... okay, I guess. But—”
“I only wanted to talk about the trip to Monaco and Mia,” I lie. Well, it’s not exactly a lie. I had planned to broach all those subjects, but for some reason I had envisioned a date with her, complete with small talk, and laughing... all the things I haven’t done in a while.
I stare at the pool in the backyard, imagining Landry tanning in one of the chairs by it. Which only leads to questions of: What kind of swimsuit does she own, and what color? Would she need me to rub lotion over her pale shoulders? Shoulders that I’ve seen once, while she wore a snakeskin top that left little to the imagination.
“Then what are we waiting for? I’m starving,” she says with obviously forced cheerfulness.
When I turn to face her, the look on her face is uncertain. “You don’t have to eat lunch with me. I can just email you the details I wanted to go over.”
She sighs thickly and shoves her hands into the pockets of her shorts. They’re dark blue and show off her long legs to perfection. She’s perfection as she stands there. Classy and sexy. Shy, sweet, and bold.