“Those are some amazing math skills,” she answered.
“Being six years and eleven-twelfths means my birthday is really close. My granny Fin said I’ll get to have my party in the mountains this year.” He set his gaze on his father. “Will we live in Colorado now? Will I go to school here?”
Raz glanced away. “I’m not sure, Sebastian.”
What was up with this guy?
“Will I get to live with you all the time in Colorado, or do you have two houses here, too?”
Two houses?
“I have one house, and you’re here now,” the man replied.
Good grief! You’re here now?
That’s no way to answer anyone, let alone a child.
Sebastian’s light dimmed at his father’s terse reply.
“I have a question for you, Sebastian,” she posited, hoping to soften the blow.
“Yes, Miss Lamb?”
“You can call me Libby like my friends do because I am sure we’ll be fast friends.” She smiled at the boy, then glanced at Granny Fin and found the woman watching her—well, glaring was a better way to describe the woman’s piercing gaze.
Don’t blow it in front of the tiny ball-breaking grandma.
“Here’s my question for you, Sebastian. I can’t tell if your eyes are blue or green.” She’d meant it to get the boy’s mind off his father’s callous comment, but when she caught Raz out of the corner of her eye, his expression hardened. Now she had the beefcake and the granny glaring at her.
The boy shifted his stance. “My eyes are the same color as my mum’s, right, Dad?”
“And look at the time,” Raz blurted.
And look at the time?
What was it with Raz? She wanted to throttle him.
He gestured toward a grandfather clock. “I’m late to train with Augie. I’ve got to go.”
Was he kidding? His family had just arrived.
Libby’s jaw dropped. “You’re leaving?”
Ten
Libby
This could not be happening.
Libby blinked. She had to be hallucinating. Perhaps it was an aftereffect of experiencing multiple orgasms after surviving a stint in a sexual wasteland.
But she wasn’t.
Raz vibrated with jittery motion as he opened the closet and removed another hoodie. His energy was all over the place.
“Is this your bag, Dad?” Sebastian asked, excitement bubbling as he picked up the yoga tote. “Want me to carry it for you? I can put it in your car.”
“No, Sebastian, that’s Libby’s bag. My gear is at the gym. I don’t need any help.”
The child obviously wanted his father’s attention. Why was Raz giving the boy the cold shoulder? And then she remembered what was in the bag.
“Let me take that off your hands, Sebastian. My tote is filled with boring yoga stuff. Nothing inappropriate,” she stammered, accepting the tote, then checking if it was zipped up.
Thank the cosmos, it was.
What would Granny Fin say about a nanny who schlepped around town with a bag chock-full of sex toys?
“Can I go with you to train, Dad?” Sebastian pressed, swinging his fists like he was pummeling the air.
“Not today. You understand, don’t you, lad? I’ve got a big fight coming up. I have to concentrate.” He didn’t even give the boy a chance to answer before turning to his grandmother. “You know how it is, Granny, and I’m sure Madelyn can get you settled. I’d probably be in the way.”
Granny Fin eyed her grandson. “Oh, I know what it’s like, love.”
Raz ruffled the boy’s hair. “You can get to know Libby, your nanny,” he finished, not even meeting her eye as he headed toward the door.
Giant, self-absorbed beefcake!
“I guess we’ll see you when we see you,” she called, restraining herself from hurling a few choice words his way. Raz glanced over his shoulder, and like seventy-five days ago—no, now it was seventy-six days ago, he looked through her, past her.
She was nothing to him—again.
For Pete’s sake! She hadn’t expected him to fawn over her, but a simple, civil acknowledgment wouldn’t kill him. They had spent the last several hours naked and screwing each other’s brains out—aka following the like-cures-like curriculum she’d suggested. Perhaps that’s all it was. An exercise. A set of motions to elicit a physical response. That’s how she proposed the sexual endeavor, right?
And then that little voice in her head returned.
You can’t trust a man with your heart. They will always disappoint you.
Had she wanted to trust Erasmus Cress with her heart? The man was a self-proclaimed beast and, as far as she could tell, a giant creep of a father.
Could she have feelings for him?
The front door slammed, and Libby got her answer.
Feelings could not get in the way of their association.
Bottom line? She could not fall for the beefcake.
And honestly, he was helping her out in that department.
Raz had bolted from the house like it was on fire, and he’d demonstrated Deadbeat Dad 101 behavior.
He’d walked out on his son.
Sure, he claimed he had to prepare for his upcoming, larger-than-life boxing match.
A chill spider-crawled down her spine.
Raz was preparing for a Pay-Per-View fight that people would bet on.
There would be winners and losers.
And a good portion of the fallout would be cataclysmic.
A decent number of those losers would take a hit that would devastate their families.
Anger permeated every cell in her body, but she swallowed down the anguish. She couldn’t let her mind go there—back to the days she longed to forget.
Get your head out of the past, Libby Lamb.
But the facts were the facts. Raz hadn’t only given her the cold shoulder. He’d barely acknowledged the son he hadn’t seen in months. She focused on the boy—a little boy she already wanted to protect. Sebastian’s bottom lip quivered, but the kid didn’t cry. Instead, his expression hardened.
She recognized the reaction. It was a child’s desire to please only to be rebuffed again and again.
She was well acquainted with that dynamic.
Libby steadied herself. She understood soul-shredding disappointment better than most. And she knew what Sebastian needed: a shift in energy, a change of scenery, and a little distraction.
Manufacturing what she hoped was a pleasant expression, she checked the clock. “My friends Penny and Charlotte usually get together with their kids and meet at a playground near here on Saturday mornings. It’s the same one I used to take my brothers to when they were about your age.” She paused as the memory of her frail mother entering the community center adjacent to the playground materialized. She pushed the thought away and pasted a smile to her lips. “I’d love to take you there, Sebastian. You can meet Phoebe and Oscar. They’re great kids, and they’re six like you are. I know they’d love to play with you. Are you up for it?”
Sebastian didn’t meet her eye, but the boy nodded as he stared at the front door. Libby could read the boy’s mind, watching as the loop of his father leaving played over and over.
They each needed a distraction and the restorative power of the outdoors STAT.