and told himself he’d never again be able to take a shower without thinking of how that soap smelled on her skin. Oh, he was in deep trouble here and sinking too fast to yell for help.
If he’d wanted help…which he was pretty sure he didn’t.
“What’s so special about this client?” he asked, determined to keep his mind off showers and wet bodies and tangled limbs and—damn it.
“Oh, let’s see.” She tapped one finger against her chin as if she was having to give that question some real thought. Then she looked at him. “Only that if I can land this account, it could make my business.”
He glanced at the screen. “Tidy Didy Diaper Service? This is a make-or-break thing?”
“Hey,” she told him, “it’s a big company. If they hire me to update their site and maintain it for them, not only is it a personal and professional coup, the money will make my checkbook look way less pathetic.”
Okay, now he felt guilty. Here he was thinking onlyof getting her into bed, and she was actually thinking of her future. He shouldn’t be taking shots at what looked like a silly company, when it clearly meant everything to Annie. As a single mother, of course she’d be interested in doing whatever it took to grow her company and her bank account. Determination glittered in her eyes, and he thought he saw just a shadow of fear there, too. A fear that she wouldn’t succeed. That she might let down the baby who was so dependent on her. And his insides twisted. She shouldn’t be having to do this alone. That ex-boyfriend of hers should be doing his share, too. And like an idiot, he said so.
“Why don’t you make Jordan’s father pay child support at least?”
She went perfectly still. And after a long, slow moment or two, she swiveled her head to look at him. Those deep-blue eyes of hers looked hard as marbles. “I don’t want anything from him. I don’t need anything from him.”
“What about what Jordan needs?” he asked before he could think better of it.
She damn near flinched at the unspoken accusation, and an arrow of shame shot right through his heart. “I’m her mother. I’ll give her what she needs.”
“By working yourself to death for it?”
A short, sharp laugh shot from her throat. “To death? I’m sitting here in my robe at a kitchen table, tapping on some keys. For the first time in days, I might add.”
Okay fine, so this was the first time he’d seen her actually working. But for God’s sake. She just had a baby. “Yeah, well,” he said pointedly, “you’ve been fairly busy.”
“True. And now I’m working. So if you don’t mind…”She turned around again and concentrated on the screen and the flickering logo of a weirdly dancing diaper she’d just created.
“You know…” he said as he watched the screen from over her shoulder.
“What?” Irritation colored that one word and a smarter man might have backed off. But he’d been raised in an Italian household, where shouting came as easily as hugging. A good fight or two never hurt anything.
“Maybe it would be better to have a dancing baby instead of a diaper?”
She slid him a glance. “He’s not selling babies. He’s selling diapers.”
“True, but babies wear them.”
“Yes, but—”
“That empty diaper just looks too weird. Like there’s an invisible baby or something.” He gave a mock shudder.
“I thought you were a Marine, not an advertising executive.”
“Hey,” he said, leaning his forearm on the back of her chair, “I’m a consumer.”
“Of diapers?”
“It was just a suggestion.” Why did she have to smell so damn good? Lifting one hand, he took a piece of her hair between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed it gently. It felt like silk, all clean and soft and shining. And he wondered what in the hell she’d say if she knew he was just enjoying the feel of her hair against his skin. At that thought, he moved his hand and sat back, deliberately keeping a bit more distance
If he’d wanted help…which he was pretty sure he didn’t.
“What’s so special about this client?” he asked, determined to keep his mind off showers and wet bodies and tangled limbs and—damn it.
“Oh, let’s see.” She tapped one finger against her chin as if she was having to give that question some real thought. Then she looked at him. “Only that if I can land this account, it could make my business.”
He glanced at the screen. “Tidy Didy Diaper Service? This is a make-or-break thing?”
“Hey,” she told him, “it’s a big company. If they hire me to update their site and maintain it for them, not only is it a personal and professional coup, the money will make my checkbook look way less pathetic.”
Okay, now he felt guilty. Here he was thinking onlyof getting her into bed, and she was actually thinking of her future. He shouldn’t be taking shots at what looked like a silly company, when it clearly meant everything to Annie. As a single mother, of course she’d be interested in doing whatever it took to grow her company and her bank account. Determination glittered in her eyes, and he thought he saw just a shadow of fear there, too. A fear that she wouldn’t succeed. That she might let down the baby who was so dependent on her. And his insides twisted. She shouldn’t be having to do this alone. That ex-boyfriend of hers should be doing his share, too. And like an idiot, he said so.
“Why don’t you make Jordan’s father pay child support at least?”
She went perfectly still. And after a long, slow moment or two, she swiveled her head to look at him. Those deep-blue eyes of hers looked hard as marbles. “I don’t want anything from him. I don’t need anything from him.”
“What about what Jordan needs?” he asked before he could think better of it.
She damn near flinched at the unspoken accusation, and an arrow of shame shot right through his heart. “I’m her mother. I’ll give her what she needs.”
“By working yourself to death for it?”
A short, sharp laugh shot from her throat. “To death? I’m sitting here in my robe at a kitchen table, tapping on some keys. For the first time in days, I might add.”
Okay fine, so this was the first time he’d seen her actually working. But for God’s sake. She just had a baby. “Yeah, well,” he said pointedly, “you’ve been fairly busy.”
“True. And now I’m working. So if you don’t mind…”She turned around again and concentrated on the screen and the flickering logo of a weirdly dancing diaper she’d just created.
“You know…” he said as he watched the screen from over her shoulder.
“What?” Irritation colored that one word and a smarter man might have backed off. But he’d been raised in an Italian household, where shouting came as easily as hugging. A good fight or two never hurt anything.
“Maybe it would be better to have a dancing baby instead of a diaper?”
She slid him a glance. “He’s not selling babies. He’s selling diapers.”
“True, but babies wear them.”
“Yes, but—”
“That empty diaper just looks too weird. Like there’s an invisible baby or something.” He gave a mock shudder.
“I thought you were a Marine, not an advertising executive.”
“Hey,” he said, leaning his forearm on the back of her chair, “I’m a consumer.”
“Of diapers?”
“It was just a suggestion.” Why did she have to smell so damn good? Lifting one hand, he took a piece of her hair between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed it gently. It felt like silk, all clean and soft and shining. And he wondered what in the hell she’d say if she knew he was just enjoying the feel of her hair against his skin. At that thought, he moved his hand and sat back, deliberately keeping a bit more distance
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