"I gave you my card and told you to call if you needed anything. I'm glad I was here today to help."
She nods. "Thank you for that. I didn't have anyone else to call. With my nanny still away on her honeymoon and Colton and Sophie in Africa … it's going to be a tough week."
"It doesn't have to be," I say, gathering my courage for what I'm sure is about to lead to an argument.
"What do you mean?"
"Come stay with me."
"What? Me and Max? No. That's crazy."
"Kylie." I look straight into her eyes. "You couldn't even get him in and out of the car seat without help. How do you think it's going to go when you're alone and trying to fix him dinner, or give him a bath, or change his diaper, or do any of the other millions of things you do with him every day?"
"I'll manage, Pace. It's not your responsibility."
"Maybe I want it to be."
She watches me curiously, her eyes bouncing from mine, to Max, to the floor. "You want to change diapers?"
I shrug. "I want to help you. I couldn't sleep at night with the thought of you here, alone, injured and trying to be strong. I know you're strong. I know you can handle just about anything, but you don't have to do it alone. Let me help."
"The only reason I couldn't get him into the car seat today was because I'm still sore."
They'd given her some powerful painkillers, but I could tell she was still hurting. "And you're going to be sore for the next several days. You broke your arm, angel. Come on, let's pack a bag for you and for Max, and I'll show you my place. If you don't like it, or don't think it will work, I'll bring you guys right back here. Sound fair?"
She huffs out a deep breath. "I guess so. I don't even know where you live."
"I have a condo on the coast. You'll like it, I think." I treat her to a dimpled grin, and she rolls her eyes.
"Come on, Max." She leads us all back to the bedrooms where she tosses clothes and toys onto the bed, and I stuff them into a bag.
Chapter Six
Pace
When we arrive at my condo, I open the door and watch Kylie's reaction as she takes in the space. I certainly don't live in a mansion by any stretch of the imagination, but I like my place. I bought it two years ago when my business started taking off and got a great deal on it. I might have a trust fund like my brothers, but I make it a point not to live off the money. I like knowing that everything here-from the Persian wool rug on the cherry wood floors, to the dark gray sofa, to the oil paintings on the walls-I have bought and paid for with money I have earned.
It's an open floor plan, so pretty much everything except the bedrooms is visible. Kylie's eyes bounce from the living room to the kitchen, outfitted in stainless steel and granite. "Nice place," she comments, her voice small. It's a far cry from her cozy home with its throw pillows and oversized chairs and candid pictures on every available surface. My home lacks the personal touches hers has. I have only two photographs sitting on a shelf, collecting dust. One is of me and my brothers, taken two years ago during a yachting trip, and the other is my group of college buddies. James has a black eye in the photo, and Kylie leans close, looking at the picture.
"What happened to him?" she asks.
"Ah, it was his birthday," I say, not giving a further explanation of our drunken shenanigans. It was a long ass time ago.
"Do you go out and get rowdy like that often?" she asks, frowning.
"Not really." Not anymore. When you have to get up for work early the next day, the appeal of the late-night party scene fades considerably.
When Kylie sets Max down, he immediately toddles over to the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that have an ocean view, and begins slapping the glass.
"Come on, Max." She steers him away from the windows. "Wow, what a view," Kylie says, holding Max at her hip and admiring the blue water below.
"I like it." I grin, watching her. I like having her here, at my place. Already, there's new life breathed into the quiet space.
She lets Max explore while I show her around and in the span of fifteen minutes, he's riffled through my kitchen cabinets, and removed various dangerous looking kitchen apparatuses, crawled into the bathroom and stuck his hands in the toilet water, and now he's digging through the soil of a potted palm in my dining room. Kylie hasn't been able to relax for even a second, chasing him from room to room. This is not going well.
When I see my place through her eyes, I realize it's not nearly as baby-friendly as I thought. Shit. I want her to be comfortable here, but if she has to constantly worry about her son, she's not going to be. And she needs to heal.
"What about the sleeping arrangements?" she asks.
Shit. This is where things are going to go from bad to worse. I hadn't shown her the bedrooms yet, and for good reason. It's a two-bedroom condo, but one has been converted into an office.
"Come on," I say, grabbing her and Max's bags from near the front door. "This way."
I lead them down the back hallway, past the guest bath and toward my room. I know I hadn't made my bed that morning, but it was too late now. Hopefully I didn't leave any dirty clothes on the floor.
"This is the office," I point to the spare bedroom that holds a basic desk, laptop and chair. Nothing too exciting. "And this is my room." I enter through the double doorway, and she follows me inside. Her confusion is visible in her tense shoulders and squinty eyes that dart around the room. Max begins exploring while Kylie turns to face me. "W-where are we going to sleep?"
"It's a king-size bed. You and Max can share it. I'll take the couch." We both know that my couch is one of those uncomfortable-looking modern affairs, and I hope to God she doesn't make me actually sleep on it. Besides, I'm six-foot two, and I'm pretty sure it's only like five-feet long. That would suck. But it would suck worse knowing this angel was in my bed, and I was all alone out in the living room.
"Pace, you can't be serious. I figured your home was like Colton's with fifteen extra bedrooms, and you wouldn't even know we were here, let alone be inconveniencing you like this."
I know she's two seconds away from pulling the plug on this entire thing, and my brain is working overtime to think of something I can say that will get her to stay. I've never wanted a woman to stay over before-usually I have the opposite problem-I'm trying to get someone to leave. Which is the reason I stopped bringing women home altogether. I didn't need a bed for the things I did with them. Sex in a bed would actually be a novelty at this point. But sex in a bed with Kylie … somewhere we could linger and explore and …
"Max, no!" Kylie shouts, snapping my attention back into the moment.
Oh, Christ. He's found my supply of condoms in one of the bedside drawers. Max is waving the row of packets around in the air like he's discovered his new favorite toy.
Kylie runs after him, but not before her eyes flash on mine. She's noticed the brand name, and the size-extra-large and her mouth has dropped open into an adorable pouty grin.
Yeah, I'm a big boy. But it's okay, angel, I won't just ram him home all at once, I'll make sure you're nice and slippery first.
When she reaches him, he holds the strip up for her to take. "Mumma," he says.
"No, these aren't Mumma's. They are Pace's."
"Pa-pa," he repeats in an attempt to say my name. Kylie's eyes flash to mine, and my chest gets tight.
"I'll teach you about these much later, little dude." I ruffle his hair and accept the condoms from Kylie's outstretched hand. She's holding them like they're diseased. "Sorry about that." I can't tell if she's mad about him finding my stash, or over the sleeping arrangement I've sprung on her. Either way, I'm off to a rocky start.
"It's fine, it's just a good reminder that you can't be serious about giving us your bed."
"Why's that?" I inquire.
"Where will be you bring your … dates? I don't want Max exposed to that type of thing."
"You have nothing to worry about. I don't bring women here."
She watches me curiously, but she doesn't argue.
It's a start. I place their overnight bags on the ottoman at the foot of the bed. "Master bath is through there." I point to the door that opens from the end of my room. "You're welcome to use anything and make yourself comfortable. Towels are in the cabinet under the sink and extra pillows are in the hall closet."