Crazy for Loving You A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy - Pippa Grant Page 0,25
his responsibility to be a fucking baby and grow up and test limits and be himself, rather than the mold of his dead father that his grandmother would want to turn him into. Except it’s possible all she wants him for is a vial of blood so she can take his DNA to a mad scientist to have Rafe recreated.”
I scowl, because this is ridiculous, except I don’t miss that she said we.
Merely a legal formality, I tell myself. That’s all she’s here for. Expedited paperwork.
Also, did she even take a breath through all of that?
She tilts her head. “Dude. You don’t have to like the truth for it to be the truth.”
“So the grandparents weren’t named in the will as guardians for a reason.”
“They did get fifty dollars to buy themselves a few sacks of manure. Not sure if you read far enough to see that part.”
“So you need paperwork,” I supply.
Her brow furrows briefly, then her eyes fly wide. “Oh! No. Not at all. I mean, yes, my lawyers want you to sign a non-disclosure agreement about last night and everything I’m about to tell you—they get so pissed when I forget this stuff—but actually, I want you to move in with me.”
Twenty years of military training is the only thing keeping me from choking on my own spit. Also, I don’t believe for a second that she forgets non-disclosure agreements.
“I don’t know if you follow the tabloids, but I tend to show up in them. A lot. Most of the time depicted as…well, actually, fairly accurately. I work hard, so why shouldn’t I play hard too? But, as I’m sure you can imagine, it’s not exactly the best look for the guardian of a baby, whereas—”
I cut her off with a low, growling grunt as I realize where she’s going. “You need me to make you look good.”
“I—yes.” Her yellow outfit doesn’t seem quite as bright when her shoulders slump. “I can make it as painless as possible. We have a helicopter so you can avoid Miami traffic to get as close to job sites as possible. I’ll take overnight shifts with the baby. And my chef can make any food you need. I know you still have a month left for house-sitting on the beach, but I can have one of my staff take over and keep an eye on things. Also, I know a lot of people who—”
“How long?” Fuck. I just asked that. Also, she knows too damn much about me.
“Oh, not that long! I mean, what’s a few months in the grand scheme of things? And you were going to need a new place to live soon anyway, so this way, you can just chill in one of my guest suites until you find a new place. I have plenty of room, plus a private beach, plus there’s golf and watersports and the most amazing little village of shops in the Bluewater enclave. You’d have access to all of it.”
“A few months.” Nope. Not buying it.
She smiles, and I realize her eyes are blue today. A bright, sparkling, lively blue that makes me think of dancing Caribbean ocean waves. “Maybe a wee bit longer?”
“What kind of dirt do they have on you that you need a total and complete stranger’s help to make you look like the better option?”
“I don’t do anything I won’t own in public. And even if I’d ever planned on having kids, I still wouldn’t apologize for living the hell out of my life. But not instantly knowing how to do all this caretaking stuff doesn’t mean I can’t learn it. It just means I appear to have weaknesses and vulnerabilities in a court case until I look as competent as I feel. I know this is about as cluster-fucky as cluster-fucks can be, but I just need a little bit of temporary help. Remy needs a little bit of temporary help. And he’s such a sweet little orphan baby.”
That’s the only argument she could make that will make me bend, and I think she knows it. Except there’s that look again—that softness in her eyes that says she’s not calling him a sweet little orphan baby to manipulate me, but because she feels it too.
That urge to protect and defend a helpless infant who’s already lost both his parents.
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, because I know what I’m going to say.
I don’t want to say it. Saying it means getting attached.