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He clears his throat and mumbles something under his breath in French that sounds lovely and exotic. A girl can dream, but I’d put my money on him cursing colorfully.

“I’m in a bind.”

My coffee cup does nothing to hide my snort.

Eddie lowers his eyelids and shakes his head before meeting my gaze and staring into my soul.

“Get your mind out of the gutter. I meant I need help. It’s really fu— freaking hard for me to ask.” He glances at Evie on the fumbled fuck, granting her with a panty-melting smile.

You know, if I were wearing any.

“What kind of help do you need?” I’m genuinely confused. Surely, he’s not implying that he would trust me with his precious little girl. I clean up dead bodies for the biggest organized crime syndicate around. That doesn’t scream hey, I’m trustworthy to watch your kid.

“Could you watch Evie for a couple of hours?”

I inhale sharply, sending the mouthful of coffee straight to my sinuses, the rest of it spraying from my mouth. So ladylike.

My gate creaks open, and Eddie is right in front of me, his free hand shuttling up and down my back, patting gently as I try to shake off my near drowning by caffeine.

“Holy shit, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I croak, still trying to catch my breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that in front of your kid.”

He smiles down at me while Evie giggles the sweetest little chorus of joy. “You okay?”

“I’m not sure. What would possess you to ask me to do that?” I swipe coffee and spit from my face, deciding somewhere in there to try to wipe it from the front of my shirt. My nipples are really out there, aren’t they? “There are plenty of other options, right? Her mom, the nanny… hell, bring her to the estate. Those people owe you for all the late-night calls to fix their shit.”

Usually, his calls result in a whopping paycheck for me, but whatever. It’s rude to drag a person out of bed.

At my mention of his work arrangement, though, Eddie takes a step back. I immediately hate the cool air between us. The distance. His chest expands, slow and controlled, and his mouth draws down into an expression that’s more troubled than sad.

I don’t like it. Not at all.

“None of those are options.” He puts a whole field of nope into that declaration. “I’d hoped that since it’s raining, you’d have the day off and might be willing to⁠—”

“I have more than one job. What about the other one? My hands have a tendency to get dirty.”

A shudder runs through his body, and I swear his face pales. “I’ll know if you get called in on”—he swallows thickly—“that.”

Rain falls all around us as we stand in my garden sizing up this whacky situation. And I appreciate the hell out of the fact that, while he keeps his daughter snug and dry under her bright and happy umbrella, he doesn’t appear to have any issue with the rain.

He gives a tight nod that shifts almost immediately into a side-to-side shake. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. You’ve got a day off, all to yourself, you don’t want to spend it entertaining this little coccinelle.” He takes another step back, and the distance breaks me.

I hate it. Abhor… Detest… Loathe? Revile? I revile it. No, I think I was correct with abhor, but I love, love, love the way the sweet little nickname flows from his mouth. That mouth…

“I lost you, didn’t I?” The question pulls me back from my linguistic adventure. “We’ll just let you get on with your day. Maybe take a warm bath and…” His nostrils flare as he looks me up and down. His gaze caresses me, touching on all my sensitive places and so, so much deeper.

I like having his eyes on me. I like Eddie taking his fill. I would fucking love for him to fill me up, over and over again, pull my hair and slap my ass. Shove me down to my knees and fuck my mouth.

“Okay. We’ll just go. I’ll, uh… we’ll figure it out, won’t we, little bug?” He turns putting one foot in front of the other. Walking out of my day… maybe my life, because I just spaced out twice in too short of a time.

But I can’t lose him.

“Wait. Don’t go. I would be happy to spend the day with Evie.” The words are out of my mouth before what I’m committing to really sinks in. I have zero experience here. I’ve never babysat. Didn’t really have much of a family, so I have absolutely no clue what to do with her. But for Eddie? I can figure this out.

He stops. I don’t know why that surprises me, but it does. And then he looks over his shoulder at me, Evie’s sad, hopeful expression matching his perfectly. And the sigh… this one is pure relief. And it might be my favorite.

“You’re sure?”

“I am. One hundred percent.” I nod with way more confidence than I feel and amend, “Ninety-eight percent. But two percent margin of error isn’t horrible, right?”