Karen Booth

The Ten-Day Baby Takeover


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home, a job that tons of people would kill for and you don’t seem to be hurting from the financial end of things. More than anything, you don’t seem to do anything you don’t want to do. At all. Ever.”

      For a moment, he just glared, not saying a word. He wasn’t angry, nor was he pleased. “You say whatever you want to say, don’t you?”

      “It’s not that bizarre a question. I’ve seen the pictures. Skydiving. Hiking the Andes. I’m just wondering what you need to escape from.”

      “Stress,” he answered flatly, methodically spinning a pen on a pad of paper. She hadn’t noticed his hands much before now and she was kicking herself for not paying better attention. His fingers moved gracefully, demonstrating their ability to do things deftly, but they were manly, too—strong. Able.

      “Stress.” Her stupid brain leaped ahead to methods of reducing stress and none of it had to do with reading. Again she was knee-deep in thoughts of what he looked like under that T-shirt.

      “Yes.” He opened his laptop and placed his fingers on the keyboard, but stopped before typing. “I don’t even know where to start. Do I just search for baby crib?”

      “Here. Let me do it.” She carried Oliver around behind Aiden’s desk and handed him the baby. Oliver settled in on Aiden’s lap, but reached for the pen.

      “Can I let him have this?”

      “No. He’ll put it in his mouth. You can run upstairs and grab a toy out of his room.”

      Aiden raised an eyebrow as if she’d made the most ludicrous suggestion ever.

      She shrugged and waved him off. “Gotta start being Daddy sometime. Now shoo. Let me see what I can find online.”

      Aiden trekked out of the office with Oliver. Sarah rested her chin on her hand, watching as they made their way down the straight shot of the house, past the library and the kitchen, until they disappeared up the stairs. Aiden was so big, Oliver so tiny in his arms. She hoped to hell they would be okay on Sunday, after she left. She couldn’t bear the thought of anything else.

      She pulled up a browser window and quickly found a furniture place offering next day delivery in Manhattan. That was the genius part of being in a big city. Virtually anything could be delivered at any time. Once she was done, a delivery truck would be set to arrive in front of Aiden’s building tomorrow morning. And she’d be one step closer to removing herself from Aiden’s and Oliver’s life.

       Five

      Aiden had learned one thing already—fatherhood was no walk in the park. He’d struggled through his first attempt at feeding Oliver his dinner. With no high chair, they’d had to improvise by wheeling Oliver’s stroller into the dining room. The baby rubbed his eyes and turned his head, refusing every spoonful Aiden offered. He had to hand it to Sarah, though—she only gave advice when asked. She’d otherwise sat by quietly and watched as a man capable of orchestrating billion-dollar deals and negotiating with cantankerous CEOs was unable to convince a fussy toddler to take a single bite of food. Frustrated, he’d finally asked her to do it. She took over, Oliver downing an entire jar of baby food with hardly a single complaint. Aiden walked away from the dinner table with a bruised ego. And baby food on his jeans.

      He wasn’t sure what to make of bath time, either. But this time, Sarah took charge.

      “This is the only tub you have in the house?”

      Aiden failed to understand the question. The tub was perfect, in that it fit two people. For him, seduction was the only reason to get in a bathtub. “Yes. What’s wrong with it?”

      “It’s huge.”

      “Of course it is. It’s a two-person soaking tub.” He cleared his throat, waiting for her next comment.

      “Well, you’re going to have to get in there with him. I refuse to bathe a child in the kitchen sink. It’s not sanitary.”

      He turned and dropped his head until his chin was nearly flat against his chest. He was at least a foot taller than her, maybe more, and they were nearly toe-to-toe. She was still wearing the sundress from earlier in the day. Had that really been today? So much had happened, it was hard to wrap his brain around it. “So you’re going to see me naked before we’ve known each other for eight hours? You take things quickly.”

      “Very funny. No, Oliver gets to get naked. You’re putting on swim trunks. If I had a bathing suit with me, I’d do it myself. But I don’t, and you need to bond with him.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “This from the woman who swore I’d have no problem feeding him dinner.”

      She shrugged. “Babies are unpredictable. The sooner you learn that, the better. I promise you that physical contact will help you and Oliver to bond. It’s a scientific fact. Now go change. I’ll get the water running.”

      “I like it hot.”

      “You’ll get lukewarm and like it.”

      He grumbled, but made his way into his walk-in closet, closing the door behind him. He took off his clothes and plucked a pair of board shorts from the bottom drawer of his bureau, slipping into them and tying the white string at the waist. He opened the door. “Ready.”

      Sarah turned, glancing at him over her shoulder. Every muscle in his body tightened from that single flash of her eyes and the immediate connection he felt. Good God she was gorgeous, all deep blue eyes and skin flushed with rosy pink. She shied away. “So I see.”

      He liked getting that reaction. He liked it a lot. “What now?”

      “Get in. I’ll hand him to you.” She tended to Oliver, who was pulling himself to standing at the edge of the bathtub. He bounced up and down on his toes while Sarah took off his pants and diaper.

      “He seems excited.”

      “Just you wait. He loves bath time. It’s a good thing you’re in your trunks. I’m going to get soaked.”

      Aiden climbed into the tub, wrestling with the idea of Sarah, soaked, and the white-hot image it conjured. Sure, they only had ten days together, but that was plenty of time for him. In fact, it was his preference—a strict, short timetable. But was that a good idea? From a physical standpoint, sure. From every other standpoint, he didn’t know. There were repercussions and awkward conversations to worry about. Dammit.

      Sarah handed him the baby and he let Oliver sit on his lap while he wrapped his hands around his waist. The baby wasted no time slapping the surface of the water and sending it flying.

      Sarah laughed and dropped a few plastic toys into the bath. “Told you.”

      Splash splash splash. Oliver looked at Sarah, who beamed at him as if she couldn’t be any more in love with someone if she tried. She rested her elbows on the edge of the tub and leaned closer, flicking at the water with the tips of her fingers. Oliver giggled, then mimicked her in a far less delicate way. Splash splash splash. He laughed so hard his entire body shook. It was impossible not to find the fun in their game, even with water being flung at his face and shoulders, not to mention all over the bathroom.

      “Is bath time always this chaotic?”

      “Basically. Anything you can do to get him clean. And it helps relax him.”

      Splash splash splash. Another peal of Oliver’s sweet giggles rang out.

      “It relaxes him?”

      “Believe it or not, yes. He has a lot of energy. This helps to get it out.” Sarah pulled out a toiletry bag and poured a dollop of golden shampoo into her hand. “Get his hair wet. We don’t have a cup, so just use your hands.”

      Aiden scooped water with one hand, curling his arm around wiggly Oliver. He started tentatively, unsure if the baby would like it, but quickly learned that he took no