satisfying sex lives.
While watching his mother’s comedy special on Netflix.
“Anyway, May Ella Jaeger is West’s mom,” I say casually. “Which means he’s hilarious too, of course.”
My three friends turn and study him closer again.
He turns up the growly Marine face, and I suddenly feel the need to fan myself.
Grumpy doesn’t usually do it for me, but I’m so damn grateful that he’s here, for so many reasons, and honestly, what kind of man agrees to move in and take care of a baby on a temporary basis that could be a very long temporary, when he has his own life to live?
The rare kind, that’s who.
“How did you end up in the will again?” Emily repeats.
“They got drunk and drew names out of a hat,” he deadpans like the good son of a comedienne that he is.
“I can see it,” Cam says slowly. “Logical explanation.”
Remy squeals again, and I slip into the cabana, which is nice and cool with the fans blowing over ice buckets. “Hey, there, you handsome devil. You ready for some yum-yum milky-milk? Yes? Yes, you are? Who’s a good boy? Remy’s a good boy.”
“It is like having a dog!” Luna exclaims.
West mutters something again.
And I decide I’m doing it. I’m doing whatever I can to help the man out.
Twelve
West
You can learn a lot by listening to four women talk.
And today, I’ve learned that Daisy has three solid friends who are just as terrifying as my sisters when they all get together.
That’s a compliment, by the way. There’s nothing more heartwarming than seeing women glare daggers of we will go into Xena, Warrior Princess mode to protect our friend and this child at all costs.
They don’t need to worry about me. I’m just here as a temporary extra layer of protection between the baby and his evil grandparents.
I’m sitting in a chair across the pool, pretending to check email on my phone while soaking up this gorgeous Miami day, but I’m actually watching them as they all inspect the baby and gossip.
They’re too far away to read their lips, but I can read body language.
Pretty sure their entire conversation is reinforcements have arrived and you don’t need that jarhead over there.
I google each of them and confirm my suspicions.
They’re actually more dangerous than my sisters. And their testimony in court should hold far more weight than my presence, except nearly all of them have had some recent questionable publicity.
Where money goes, scandal follows.
Alessandro drops into the pool chair beside me and stares across the sparkling blue pool water at the women. “You’re actually sticking around? Without actual paperwork?”
Translation: these people can screw you at any moment. It’s like he knows. Knows how much I don’t want to get attached, but can’t walk away, because Daisy’s right.
This kid can’t go to his grandparents. He deserves a fighting chance.
And I don’t have another job lined up after the gym renovation is complete, nor do I have the beach house for much longer. I’d been thinking I’d move in with Becca, or at least closer to her, but clearly, that’s not happening.
I nod briefly. “Yep.”
I also know I’m an idiot for not having signed legal documents about what my rights are and aren’t when all this is over. But any signed legal agreements between Daisy and me specifying that I’m out of the picture as soon as Remy’s hers would basically eliminate the benefit of me being here to help her get him if anyone found them.
He nods with a short grunt.
Man-speak for appreciate the help you’re giving to the boss-lady, but you’re still a moron under your dented armor.
We both sit there for a few more minutes while the blonde—Emily Stanton, the billionaire skincare scientist—hands Remy back to Daisy. The women have been whispering for over an hour, taking turns fussing over the baby, but Emily’s the only one who held him.
“You the kid’s father?” Alessandro asks.
The question hits me out of left field and reminds me I’m in a completely different world. “What the fuck?”
He doesn’t flinch. “Rafe Roderick was a cheating asshole. Julienne was no angel. Just because she wasn’t a known cheat doesn’t mean she didn’t do it. Not judging. Just asking.”
“You want a DNA test?”
His gaze flicks to the women, who are hugging Daisy like they’re leaving, then back to me. “Crowd like this, DNA test will be the only reason you stick around any longer than it takes to get Anthony and Margot Roderick out of the picture.”
“That’s all I’m here for. Then I’m