How To Wife Your Nanny A Billionaire Single Dad Romantic Comedy- Melinda Minx Page 0,28
he liked it. And he knew that I liked it too.
He didn’t say it though. He just smiled a little bit as he pulled the earring away, and he plopped it down into his jacket pocket. “You look better with just one of those. Good night.”
“Good night,” I said, my voice almost choking.
I’d just seen him kiss his kid good night, and it was somehow in my head that I couldn’t just say good night. I had to do something to make it count. The thing I wanted to do was not going to happen. I might have let him kiss me goodnight, but there was no way in hell I was going to initiate a kiss. My body froze up, and the urge to do something—anything—grew until it was some kind of obsessive compulsion.
Noah—for his part—was not moving. He just stood there and smirked at me, basking in my discomfort. He was waiting to see what I’d do or say.
Then I did it. I just let my body do something, and I didn’t try to stop it. I’d hoped that whatever my body decided to do would be something good, smooth, and natural. It wasn’t.
I took my right hand, held it up toward him—just below his neck—and I splayed my fingers out. He looked down at me with a raised eyebrow, and then I patted him. On the chest. Not just once, but three times, with about a half-second pause between each little pat.
When I was done, I pulled my hand back, looked at in utter and abject horror, and then closed my hand and pulled it away.
“That was...something,” he said. “I’d do it back to you, but you’d probably slap me. Especially with that dress so open like that.”
“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Pretend that never happened. Good night!”
I turned my back to him before he could make me feel any more ridiculous for doing that.
Why? Why? Why in the hell did I do that? Of all things? It would have been less embarrassing to just have fucking kissed him.
“What’s wrong, Miss Lacey Larsen?” Naomi asked.
“Nothing. Nothing.”
She frowned at me.
“I just did something silly. Nothing to worry about.”
“Were you being silly with my daddy?”
My eyes bulged. She was too innocent to be making innuendo, it was just my own dirty mind projecting onto her word choice.
“Uh,” I said. “Something like that. Hey, do you want to make a book together?”
“Yeah!”
8
Noah
I stopped in the hallway and looked down at my chest. Did that really just happen? Did she just pet me good night like I was some kind of dog?
I could still feel the warmth of her tiny hand on my chest, and every feature of her horrified and embarrassed face was still etched into my mind. I laughed to myself.
Shit, I really did want to sleep with her. Silas always managed to be right, that smug bastard.
Just as I began to walk down the hall, the ship departed. I’d already felt sick a few times from the small movement it made while docked in the pier. Now that it moved though, it felt like the entire world was rocking. When I looked up though, nothing was moving. That discrepancy between what I saw and felt hit me hard. I stumbled into the wall and put my hand on it to steady myself. It didn’t help. If anything, the wall feeling so solid and stabile, while everything still fucking swayed and rocked, was worse.
I felt the urge to vomit, but I fought it back. I held it down. Maybe the water had calmed down, but I felt better.
“Fucking boats,” I rasped.
I adjusted my tie and jacket, and headed toward the lobby.
Silas was waiting for me. He was leaning against one of the marble pillars, tapping away on his phone.
He looked up at me as I approached. “Everything good? Plan for tonight?”
“Flip a coin,” I said.
“Huh?”
“Or do you want to volunteer to meet with Chance Charter?”
Silas groaned. “You’re better with him than I am. We’re not flipping a coin. You get him.”
“How is that fair? I get punished for being good at something?”
“He likes to have dick-measuring contests with you, Noah. Just indulge him.”
“I’ll just get us both to whip it out. Right in the bar. You bring the measuring tape.”
Silas laughed. “You’ll do no such thing. Chance Charter should always be one inch bigger than you. That’s why I can’t meet with him, because I’m hung. I’d put the poor man to shame.”