The Rejected Wife: Chapter 29

“Those are some fancy moves, honey.” I chuckle.

We’re in Serene’s room. We came up after her dinner, and she insisted she wanted to play with me before her bath.

She asked me to play nursery rhymes for her. When she grew tired of that, I switched to one of my playlists—a mix of pop and rock music. Right now, she’s dancing to one of my all-time faves.

Seduced by the upbeat tune, my feet begin to move as if on their own. I glide toward Serene, and when she looks up at me and squeals, I laugh. “It’s good, right?”

She nods and holds out her arms. Without hesitation, I lift her up, then dance with her. Both of us bop our chins. I do a shimmy which makes her giggle, then bump and grind which makes her cling to my shoulders.

“Dance. Dance. Dance,” she says breathlessly.

“Yes, Poppet, we’re dancing.”

“Faster. Faster,” she urges me.

I hold her tightly and twirl around. It’s been two weeks since I became her nanny, and I have loved every second of it. Serene and I have this kinship. We seem to be on the same wavelength, so being with her has been one of the most stress-free experiences of my life. I’ve never adapted so quickly to a child’s routine as I have with hers. And Serene, for her part, has been an absolute darling. Of course, I don’t sleep in the house at night, so I’m not there for whenever she has nightmares. But I know when she’s had a bad dream because Tyler looks exhausted the next day.

He insists that they’ve begun to reduce in frequency since I started taking care of her. But I’m not sure I can take all the credit.

I’ve read up and taken enough classes on childcare to know that, even without separation trauma or the unknown of how a child was cared for during her first year of life, sometime in their second year they begin to realize that they are a separate entity from their primary care person.

They realize they can’t control the world around them. With this awareness comes the instinctive fear of abandonment by the familiar surroundings and people.

In Serene’s case, she was given up by the woman who gave birth to her. Something she must realize deep inside. I have no doubt this left its mark on her. But she’s a survivor. She has a zest for life which makes me feel lucky that I get to take care of her.

She moves her little body, wriggling around in my arms, so I hold onto her even tighter. I continue to shake my hips and roll them, as I do a mini twerk. She begins to giggle. Her face is alight with mirth, and that makes me chuckle and laugh. I continue to sway with her, humming the song under my breath, then begin to sing along. She looks at me, entranced. You’d think I was the most famous pop star in the world, the way she stares at me. The trust and adoration in her eyes causes the breath to catch in my throat. Damn.

I need to be careful. The way I’m falling for Serene is a slippery slope. Somewhere deep in the hidden recesses of my mind an insidious voice sparks to life. If only she were yours. If only Tyler were yours. If only you weren’t the nanny, but Tyler’s— What? I shake my head.

What do I want to be? Tyler’s wife? Serene’s mother? The latter seems even more unattainable. No, I am Serene’s nanny. And Tyler’s employee. And I need this job. I can’t do anything to fuck this up. And Serene needs me, too.

I’m not egoistical, but I know I’m a damn good childcare professional. No one else can look after Serene the way I can. I’m worth every dollar Tyler is paying me. And he is paying me. So, our relationship is not personal.

I need to remind myself of that every time I’m attracted to him. And every time my heart stutters watching him carry his daughter like she’s the most precious thing in the world.

The hair on the back of my neck rises. A shiver runs up my spine. I turn in time to see Tyler appear in the doorway. He leans a shoulder against the door frame. He must have just returned from work—today is one of the rare days when he had to head into the city for meetings.

He’s loosened his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his buttoned-down white shirt. It’s crumpled enough to show he’s had a long day. With the five o’clock shadow, mussed hair, and muscle-bound thighs stretching the fabric of his tailored pants, he looks delectable and sexy.

He slides one hand into his pocket, stretching the material of the trousers across his crotch further. Heat arrows down my belly and straight to my clit. A throbbing need springs to life between my thighs. Why does he have to look so yummy? Why do I want to throw myself in his arms, go up on tiptoe, and lick up the strong cord of his throat.

“Papa. Papa.” Serene wriggles around in my arms. I bend and let her down. She scampers over to Tyler, and he swings her up. With that lithe strength and confidence that comes with being a big man who’s done this many times, he throws his daughter up in the air and catches her.

She squeals, “Again! Again!”

He obliges once more.

“Again! Papa. Again!” she says breathlessly.

“Don’t want to make you sick, sweetheart.” He cuddles her close and kisses her cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yes, Papa.” She nods vigorously.

His smile grows tender. “You looked like you were having fun dancing.”

“I love it.” Overcome with excitement she throws her arms around his neck. “I played with Donny the Dinosaur and had a tea party with Mama.”

“Honey, I told you to call me Cilla,” I correct her gently.

She thrusts out her lower lip. “Mama.” She scowls at me. “Mama. Mama. Mama.”

Tyler and I exchange a look. I have corrected Serene many times, but that only seems to make her more adamant on calling me Mama. I open my mouth to correct Serene again, but he shakes his head. Without saying a single word, I know he’s telling me that if I do, it’s only going to make her more insistent. I raise my hands in a helpless gesture.

He smiles back, his expression reassuring. I love that we can communicate without speaking. We’re on the same wavelength. It’s special. Unique. Something I have only with him. I push the thought from my head.

“What else did you do today?” Tyler turns to Serene.

Her forehead smooths out. “We played ball. Went for a walk. And made paper planes.”

“Wow! Sounds like you’ve been busy.” He looks past her face and winks at me.

My heart swoons. My belly trembles. A treacherous melting sensation seems to have taken up permanent residence in my pussy. Get a grip, woman. You can’t be so attracted to him. You can’t keep wanting to jump his bones. You need to be a responsible adult. I slap away the treacherous sensations in my body and ignore the butterflies which have taken flight in my chest. I paste my patented Mary Poppins’ expression on my face, the one I’ve used in the past with great effect with parents, and nod.

“She’s had a full day. We sketched, worked on puzzles, worked our way through name and object recognition activities, finger painted, and read picture books to build vocabulary. Then, she helped sort her toys and even counted with me up to ten. She’s been so good, haven’t you, Poppet?”

Serene nods and snuggles into her father’s chest. Aww, the contrast of her tiny body curled up into Tyler never fails to excite my ovaries. It’s the only time I wonder about the eggs I donated. I did it because I needed the money, but it was such an intrusive experience, I decided it wasn’t worth repeating again, regardless of how broke I was.

Looking at Serene now, I wonder if my gesture helped someone else. I hope so. Especially if it helped create a child as adorable as this little girl.

“All that crammed into one day?” Tyler blows out a breath. “That’s impressive.”

I chuckle. “She’s an energetic little girl. Like her father.”

“Oh?” His gaze sharpens. That flare of interest in his eyes leaves me in no doubt what he’s thinking about.

Heat sears my cheeks. Damn. “I… I didn’t mean it like that.”

He cants his head. The wolfish expression on his face causes electricity to shoot through my veins. Our gazes meet. Hold. That electricity crackles and turns into a stream of magma. My toes curl. My hair follicles tighten. The air between us spikes with something kinetic. Something which sends goosebumps spiraling under my skin. I take a step forward. So does he. It seems to wake Serene up from the dreamlike state she’d fallen into. She grabs his chin and tugs.

His Adam’s apple bobs. With reluctance, and a last blistering look that I pretend I didn’t catch, he glances down. “Yes, Poppet?”

“Papa. Bath time?” She looks at him with big eyes.

His expression softens. Just like that, the lethal alpha male is replaced by a teddy bear. This combination of tenderness and protectiveness he wears like the most natural shield over that big, brawny body is my catnip. No… It’s Tyler who’s my catnip. And my vulnerability. And my undoing. Suddenly, my skin feels too tight for my body. I glance away, draw in a breath, and compose myself.

“I think she wants to spend time with her papa,” I murmur.

“Do you, honey?”

Serene nods.

“Okay then, I’ll give you a bath and put you to bed, eh?” He tucks her hair behind her ear in a gesture that speaks volumes of his love for her. Again, my throat closes. Ridiculous.

You’d think I’d get used to seeing them together, but each time I do, it brings home how lucky they are to have each other. And how alone I am… No. Nope. Not happening. Not going there. I begin to tidy up the toys and put them away, mainly so I don’t have to look at him.

“Leave it; you’ve had a long day, as well,” he rumbles. That gruff voice of his never fails to pinch my nerve endings and sensitize every millimeter of my skin. Normally, I’d protest, but I’m so aware of him, it’s best I get out of here. Fast.

I straighten and manage to meet his eyes with what I hope is a composed look. “Thank you. I do believe I’ll take you up on that offer.” I walk toward the doorway. “Have a good evening.”

He seems on the verge of saying something, but to my relief, he doesn’t. He steps aside. With a nod at him, and after blowing a kiss at Serene, I skitter out of there.

Back in my little apartment over the garage, I pour myself a glass of wine, then inhale it. Splashing some more of the ruby red liquid into my glass, I place it on the small table separating the kitchen area from the living room. It’s such a small space; it’s only a few steps to the refrigerator. I open it and survey the contents. I’m not very hungry—probably because my appetite of a different kind has been roused. I blow out a breath. Enough. I have to stop thinking of Tyler.

I should be grateful to have a roof over my head. With the money he’s already paid me, I’ve paid down my credit card debt and begun to pay off my student loans, too. All in all, I’m in a much better space than before

I came to work for him… Except, now that I see him every day, I miss him so much. Most nights, I dream about how it was to kiss him, how it felt to have his lips on me, and his tongue inside me, and his fingers playing me like I was his favorite musical instrument. Grr! All that work I put in, trying to forget him, was in vain. It’s as if I parked the memories somewhere deep inside, and now, they insist on parading across my brain like a movie every time I closed my eyes. I shake my head, count back from ten. I’m not falling apart—I’m rearranging into someone stronger. No idea where I read that, but it helps me feel a little more in control. First things first, I need to eat a little something. It’ll help me feel better.

I look at the ingredients I have in the refrigerator and navigate to my favorite website, where I can key them in and get suggestions for what to make for dinner. When I look at the time next, nearly an hour has passed. Damn. I got sidetracked going on my social media feeds and checking my email. And I’m no closer to finding a recipe I like. Guess I’ll have to fall back on something I’ve made before.

I push my phone aside. Then head to the refrigerator and pull out the Halloumi cheese, along with the vegetables I need for a salad. I slice the cheese into half-inch thick pieces, heat a pan over the flame, add the olive oil to the pan, then place the Halloumi slices in the pan.

While they begin to fry, I turn to the chopping board and begin to chop the cucumber, then move onto the tomato. I lose myself in the Zen of the repetitive actions. A cucumber-tomato-mint salad will be refreshing and—I cough. Damn, I forgot about the Halloumi. It has a high protein content, and I left it too long in the pan. The cheese is charred, and smoke pours from the pieces. Even as I reach for the pan, one of the pieces catches fire. From somewhere above me, the fire alarm begins to blare.

“Oh, my God!” The noise is so loud, my ears ring. I grab the pan and thrust it into the sink. Then I open the tap, and when water hits the pan, it sizzles. And even more smoke bellows from it. Jesus. I can’t believe one small hunk of cheese could cause so much smoke to arise. I cough again, grab the tea towel, and look around, trying to spot the smoke alarm. It’s too high to reach.

I was hoping to fan the air in front of it to try to get it to shut off, but I guess that’s not going to happen. With streaming eyes, I stumble to the window. I throw it open, shove my head out, gulping in air. My lungs burn. My eyes won’t stop tearing. I keep fanning the smoke toward the window, when the door to the apartment crashes open. I look over my shoulder and, through my tears, watch Tyler burst in. My jaw drops.

“Are you okay?” He barrels across the living room and toward the kitchen area. Barefoot. Shirtless. Wearing nothing but gray sweats that hang low on his hips, clinging to that sharp V of muscle that disappears beneath the waistband.

My gaze lowers before I can stop myself. That body—God. That chest. Those abs. That line of sweat gliding down between his pecs like a lover’s kiss. My throat closes. My breath catches. And it’s nothing to do with the smoke in the room, which is already fading, thanks to the open window.

I haven’t seen his sculpted chest since that night at his penthouse. But I’ve remembered. My body has never forgotten. That eight-pack has starred in so many of my dreams, I’ve woken up tangled in sheets and soaked through my panties more times than I care to admit.

And now he’s here. Real. Breathing hard. His whole body carved from heat and tension and fear.

I look up—and my stomach drops.

His face is pinched tight, his jaw clenched, his gaze frantic. There’s something wild in his eyes. Something raw. Fierce. Terrifyingly tender. Like he thought—no, knew—he was about to lose me.

Oh God.

He saw the smoke. Heard the fire alarm.

He thought the apartment was burning. He thought I was inside.

“I’m fine, the pan caught fire⁠—”

I don’t get to finish.

Because he’s rounded the table, stepped up to me, and grabbed me around my waist.

I’m stunned. My mouth falls open. I don’t even protest. I just hold onto him, every muscle in his body coiled with tension, every inch of him wrapped around me like I’m his most precious possession.

He lifts me off my feet like I weigh nothing. Then pivots and thunders out of there—back across the living room floor, out the front door, and down the steps leading to the garden. I’m so taken aback; my mouth hangs open. I’m too shocked to even protest.

I merely hold onto his massive shoulder as he reaches the bottom most step, jumps onto the lawn, and begins to race across it.

Only then do my brain cells begin to function. “Stop, Tyler. What’s wrong with you?”

“Fire. The apartment was on fire,” he rasps through gritted teeth.

“No, it wasn’t. I burned the food I was making. That’s all.”

I don’t think I’m getting through to him because he doesn’t slow down. I sense the tension pouring off of him. See the sweat clinging to his bunched-up shoulders. The muscles of his body have seized up so much, it feels like I’m clinging to a stone pillar.

I pat his big broad chest. “Tyler, I’m fine.”

No answer. The granite hard profile, the set to his chin, that fierce edge to his gaze… All of it is so sexy, it turns my insides to mush. But it’s the way his arms lock around me, like he’d rather die than let go— That’s what shatters me.

“Tyler, everything’s okay,” I say again in a soothing tone.

When he still doesn’t answer, I realize, he’s in some kind of zone. The concentration on his features gives me a glimpse of how he must have been as a Marine. Sharp. Ruthless. Unflinching in the face of chaos. My heart constricts with an emotion I don’t dare name. Something that claws at my chest and makes my breath hitch.

I act on instinct. I lean up and kiss the side of his mouth.

Instantly, he comes to a stop. He turns his head and deepens the kiss.