The Anti-Boyfriend E-Book

Penelope Ward

• Herausgeber: WS
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Seitenzahl: 388

Beschreibung

The Wall Street Journal and USA Today Bestseller.

From New York Times bestselling author Penelope Ward, comes a new standalone novel.
At first, my neighbor Deacon frustrated me.
Sure, he was great-looking and friendly.
But our walls were thin, and on occasion, he'd bring women to his place and keep me awake while he "entertained" them.
As a single mother to an infant, I didn't appreciate it.
So, finally it was my turn.
When my daughter wouldn't stop wailing one night, Mr. Manwhore came knocking on my door.
Miraculously, at the sound of his voice, Sunny stopped crying. And when he held her...she eventually fell asleep in his arms.
Deacon was rough on the exterior, but apparently on the inside? Mr. Single-and-Ready-to-Mingle was a baby whisperer.
After that night, we became friends.
He'd go for coffee runs. Come over to chat. Normal friend stuff.
But over time, our conversations ran deeper. We got closer.
Until one night we crossed the line.
Our friendship turned into a complicated mess.
I'd gone and fallen for a guy who'd sworn off commitment and kids.
I knew Deacon was starting to care for me too, even though Sunny and I didn't fit into any plan he'd ever imagined for himself.
He was wrong for me--so wrong that I'd dubbed him the "anti-boyfriend."
Then why did I wish more than anything that I could be the one woman to change him?

Leseprobe

First Edition

Copyright © 2020

By Penelope Ward

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, things living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

Edited by: Jessica Royer Ocken

Proofreading and formatting by: Elaine York

Cover photographer: Nadia von Scotti

Cover design: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Epilogue

Dear Readers

Other Books by Penelope Ward

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Carys

MONKEY BALLS

The sound of the bed creaking might as well have been nails on a chalkboard. My neighbor, Deacon, didn’t always have women over, but when he did—boy, he really had them over. Over him. Under him.

Tonight was the loudest one of all, and the noise always seemed to kick up just when I’d nod off. Once something woke me, it took a long time to fall asleep again. They tell mothers to sleep when your baby sleeps. Well, that’s not possible when the apartment next door is The Bachelor’s fantasy suite.

My daughter Sunny’s room was on the opposite side of our place, so thankfully, the noise coming from 5B didn’t wake her. But my room was right on the other side of the wall from Deacon’s bedroom. I heard the bed moving, and each and every sound of pleasure was clear as day—every excruciating moan, groan, and shriek. And as a bonus, I could feel the vibrations right behind my headboard. Sadly, this was the closest I’d come to getting action in over a year.

You’d think I’d have the balls to bang on the wall or something, but I felt like I didn’t have the right to interrupt. After all, he was a single guy living his best life in his own apartment; he was allowed to have sex. He couldn’t help it if the walls were thin.

It wouldn’t have been such a big deal if he were quick. But he had so much stamina! Like the Energizer Bunny of cock.

Did I mention that Deacon was hot as hell? I’d only met him a few times in passing, but it was hard not to stare at his sculpted face with its perfectly placed chin scruff over his angular jaw. Knowing what he looked like didn’t help this situation, because yes, I was annoyed, but imagining what was happening on the other side of the wall wasn’t exactly a hardship. The imagery itself was enough to keep me awake.

So there you have it, my pathetic situation.

Eventually, as always, it stopped. The banging and sounds of sex morphed into muffled laughter and talking.

As I tried once again to fall asleep, I vowed that the next time I ran into Deacon in the hallway, I’d gently make him aware of the situation. Surely he didn’t realize our beds were back to back, since he’d never been in my apartment. It would be an uncomfortable conversation, but it had to happen. I needed my sleep. I wasn’t working at the moment, but taking care of my six-month-old daughter was a full-time job.

Sunny was the beautiful result of a brief relationship with my former boss, who’d ended up going back to his ex-wife before he realized I was pregnant. He’d wanted nothing to do with me nor the baby once he found out I was carrying his child, so I’d been raising her with virtually no help—aside from some money he’d send me when he felt like it. I should emphasize that he and his wife had been legally separated for over a year when I met him.

I’d always told myself I’d go back to work when Sunny turned six months old, but we’d just reached that milestone, and it hadn’t happened yet. I missed getting out of the house and socializing each day, and yearned to go back at least part time. Affording childcare was a lot easier said than done, though. Not to mention, I wasn’t totally ready to leave Sunny. But I struggled with the decision, because I was slowly going insane without adult interaction. Would leaving Sunny to go back to work make me a bad mother?

That was the type of question that kept me up at night—that is, when my studly neighbor wasn’t the one responsible.

The following day, Sunny was down for her afternoon nap, which usually gave me about an hour and a half, though possibly three hours on rare occasions. That time was pretty much my only guilty pleasure. Me time. When she first fell asleep, I would make myself lunch while watching The Young and the Restless on low volume. I wasn’t really all that into the show, but it reminded me of my childhood and being home sick from school when my grandmother would watch me.

Leaving my sleeping daughter alone even for the one minute it took me to check the mail always made me nervous. So, after lunch I’d run downstairs and open the mailbox as fast as I could before sprinting back up. It probably took me under a minute, and I never left without the baby monitor in hand.

Today, just as I got back to my door, Deacon was exiting his apartment.

“Oh, hey, Carys-Like-Paris. How goes it?” He flashed a wide smile.

When people ask me my name, for some stupid reason, I sometimes answer, “Carys, like Paris,” particularly when I’m nervous. That was the case the first time I met Deacon.

A whiff of his amazing smell put my body on alert. He looked handsome as always. Today he wore a camel-colored suede coat with a shearling collar. His blue eyes, which stood out against his tanned skin, glimmered under the fluorescent lights overhead, which also brought out the copper tint to his otherwise medium-brown hair. He was at least six-foot-two—a beanstalk to my five-foot-four self.

This was my opportunity to bring up last night. But now that he was right here, towering over me, his musky smell saturating the air, I seemed to have lost the words. Still, I was determined to speak up now or never.

My heartbeat accelerated. Here goes. Still out of breath from my sprint up the stairs, I said, “Well, honestly, in answer to your question… I’d love to say I’m doing great, but I had a hard time getting to sleep last night. So, I’ve been better.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Actually, it’s sort of your fault.”

Deacon’s forehead crinkled. “My fault?”

“Yeah. I don’t know if you realize this, but your bed is right up against mine, on the opposite side of the wall. Your…interactions…last night woke me up, and I had a hard time getting back to sleep.”

Boom.

There.

Said it.

Deacon closed his eyes momentarily. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were right behind me.”

“Yeah. It’s basically like I’m…right there.”

“Well, that was rude of me. I should’ve invited you to join.”

What? It felt like all my blood rushed to my head.

He held out his palms. “I’m kidding. Bad sense of humor comes out when I feel awkward, I guess.”

Slipping a piece of my hair behind my ear, I brushed off his comment. “I know you’re kidding.”

“Totally kidding.” He smiled. “But I’ll try to be more considerate now that I know you can hear everything. You should’ve said something.”

I tilted my head. “How exactly would that have worked? Barging in on two naked people? That’s why I’m saying something now.”

“Solid point. But I take it last night wasn’t the first time you overheard things?”

I looked down at my feet. “No, it wasn’t.”

“You could’ve banged on the wall or something.”

“I’m not one to rudely interrupt someone’s…personal happenings. I just wanted you to be aware of the situation. We don’t need to discuss it further.”

“Maybe we should come up with a code.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, if I’m disturbing your peace, you play a song and crank it up to send me a message.” He snapped his fingers. “Something ironic like ‘The Sounds of Silence’ by Simon and Garfunkel.”

“Can’t exactly crank up a song when a baby is sleeping.”

His smile faded. “See? That goes to show you how clueless I am. Clueless and so sorry, Carys. Truly. I’ll try not to let it happen again.”

“It better not, fuckboy!” a voice shouted from behind one of the apartment doors.

Deacon and I turned around in unison. I noticed Mrs. Winsbanger’s door move across the hall. The old lady must have been listening in. She lived alone, and I often spotted her peeking out her door, spying on people.

Deacon grimaced. “Mrs. Winsbanger loves me.”

“Apparently I’m not the only one who overheard things last night,” I said.

His face turned red. His embarrassment was a bit surprising. I’d expected him to be more cocky.

“I’ll move my bed to the other side of the room. That should help.”

“Well, that would be nice, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“It’s not.”

Happy to have the conversation over with, I let out a long breath. “Okay, well, I’ll let you get going.”

He didn’t budge and seemed to be examining my face. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You seem frazzled.”

Well, yeah. I didn’t get good sleep, I’m trying to get things done in possibly the only hour of the day I have free, and we just had the most awkward conversation EVER.

“This is just me—my life. I have what could be barely more than an hour to eat my lunch and have some quiet time before my daughter wakes up from her nap.”

“Ah.” He scratched his chin. “How old is she now?”

“Six months.”

Deacon knew I was a single mom. He’d run into me one day and helped me bring groceries in while I tried to juggle Sunny and her stroller.

I was just about to head back inside my apartment when his voice stopped me.

“Do you need anything?”

I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant. “Like what?”

“Something from the store? A…coffee, maybe? I’m just headed out to run a quick errand, but I can stop somewhere on the way back.”

“It’s the least you can do, monkey balls!” Mrs. Winsbanger chimed in from across the hall.

She was apparently still listening.

“Did she just fucking call me monkey balls?” he whispered.

At that moment, I lost it. Laughter got a hold of me, and it took almost a minute before I could even speak. Deacon laughed, too, but I think he was more cracking up at my reaction.

“No idea why she just called you monkey balls. But I haven’t laughed this hard in weeks.”

After I finally calmed down, Deacon repeated his earlier question.

“Anyway, as I was saying, can I get you a coffee or something?”

His offer gave me pause. It was rare that anyone asked if I needed anything. I had a couple of good friends in the city, but they worked and had busy social lives. It wasn’t like they were around in the middle of the day to run to the store for me. And given that it was fall in New York, it was getting chilly out. I had to have a damn good reason to take Sunny out in the cold.

Honestly, I was dying for a latte from Starbucks. Running to the coffee shop was definitely something people without babies took for granted. It wasn’t worth having to bundle Sunny up.

“I would love a vanilla latte from Starbucks, if you pass one on your way back,” I finally said.

“Done.” He smiled. “That’s it?”

“Just one pump of vanilla would be great.”

“One pump. Got it. Anything else?”

“Isn’t that enough? It’s hardly a necessity. I shouldn’t be taking advantage.”

“Take advantage of me. What else do you need? Seriously. It’s the least I can do after disturbing your peace last night.”

Take advantage of me.Yup. Mind straight in the gutter. “You’re not my gopher.”

“Carys….” His baritone voice turned serious, and he repeated in a slow and exaggerated manner, “What. Do. You. Need? I could run to the store.”

There was something else I desperately needed.

“Diapers?” I said hesitantly.

“Okay.” He laughed. “You’re gonna have to help me out with those. I’ve never purchased them in my life.”

Before I could tell him what size, he handed me his phone. I was all too aware of the brief touch of his hand.

“Enter your digits. I’ll text you from the store to make sure I get the right kind.”

I did as he said before handing him back the phone, once again enjoying the contact from that brief exchange. Cheap thrills were as good as it got these days.

He put it in his pocket. “Anything else?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“Alright. Well, if you change your mind, you can let me know when I text.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“Talk to ya in a bit,” he said before heading down the hall.

I stood by my door and watched him walk away. The view from the back was just as good as the front. And moreover, it seemed Deacon was just as lovely on the inside as he was on the outside.

“One pump my ass,” I heard Mrs. Winsbanger say before she slammed her door.

A text came in about a half-hour later.

Deacon: Okay. I’m in the diaper aisle. There are a lot of choices.

I smiled as I typed. Bless his heart. The idea of my hot neighbor standing clueless in the diaper aisle was as adorable as it was funny. Some unsuspecting mama was going to have a heart attack when she went looking for diaper pail bags and found him instead.

Carys: Anything in size 2 will be great.

Deacon: Huggies or Luvs?

Carys: Whichever is cheaper.

Deacon: Which does she prefer?

Carys: LOL. Well, we’ve never discussed it. She can’t exactly tell me.

Deacon: Ah. Right.

Carys: But Mommy prefers whichever is cheapest.

Deacon: Which do you like better?

Carys: I’ve never really compared. Either one is fine.

He didn’t text again, so I assumed he’d chosen something. Then another message came in.

Deacon: Oh…plot twist!

I laughed.

Carys: What?

Deacon: There’s Pampers too.

Carys: Just choose one. LOL

Deacon: There are a couple of women coming to my rescue now. They think I need help.

Sure. I bet it’s the diapers they’re concerned with. I needed to pick a brand to put him out of his misery.

Carys: Luvs will be great.

Deacon: K. Got ’em!

Carys: Thank you.

Deacon: Anything else while I’m here?

I needed some tampons and deodorant, but I wouldn’t dare send him for those.

Carys: No. Thanks. That’s it.

A few seconds later, another text came in.

Deacon: What’s a peepee teepee?

Lord.He needs to get out of the baby aisle.

Cracking up, I typed.

Carys: It’s a tent for your wee-wee.

Deacon: A tent for MY wee-wee? Are you suggesting I need one after last night?

I couldn’t believe he was bringing that up again. I also couldn’t believe how hard I was laughing right now. I’d laughed more today than I had in ages. I hoped I wouldn’t wake up Sunny.

Carys: It’s for baby boys so they don’t piss on people.

Deacon: Ah. Then I’m good. I haven’t pissed on anyone in a while. ;-)

Holy shit. Where was this conversation going?

Carys: SMH

Deacon: Doesn’t look like they have my size anyway.

Oh my God.

Deacon: Okay. Really leaving this time!

And now I was burning up.

When Deacon returned a half-hour later, Sunny was still sleeping.

He handed me a bag containing the diapers. He also carried two coffees in a cardboard tray.

He lifted mine out. “I got you a venti. Wasn’t sure if that was too big.”

“No such thing when it comes to coffee.” I smiled and took it. “Thank you.”

I walked over to my purse and took out my wallet.

He held out his hand. “No way. Everything’s on me.”

“I can’t let you pay.”

“Just consider it my apology for keeping you up last night.”

“I need to pay for the diapers at least.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Seriously, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. I won’t take it. So put your wallet back.”

I was never good at accepting charity but conceded. “Well, thank you.”

I took the first sip of the hot, foamy latte and closed my eyes. I moaned, perhaps a little too loudly.

“You sound like something coming out of my bedroom last night.” He laughed.

I nearly spit out the coffee.

My face must have turned red too, because he added, “Too much?”

“Actually, no. I appreciate you making light of the situation and not pegging me as the bitchy neighbor.” I took another sip of my coffee. “This is so good. I haven’t had one of these in a while.”

“Any time you want one, if you can’t leave, just let me know. I’ll make a coffee run. It’s right down the street.”

As tempting as that was, I wouldn’t be beckoning Deacon to fetch me coffee anytime soon. If there was one thing I hated, it was appearing needy.

I squinted. “Why do you have to be so nice? It makes it hard to be annoyed at you.”

“I didn’t realize being annoyed at me was a goal of yours.” He smiled and looked around. “Your daughter is still sleeping?”

“Yeah. It’s been a couple of hours now—above average, though on occasion, she’ll go to about three. I’m loving it. It’s rare to get this long of a break.”

“Well, I’d better not say monkey balls again. Otherwise you’ll start laughing and wake her up.”

And now I was laughing again. I covered my mouth to dampen the sound. “Oh my God, that was so funny.”

“Have I mentioned Mrs. Winsbanger loves me?” he asked. “She gives me the stink eye, too.”

“Have you actually seen her? I normally just notice her door cracked open when she’s spying on people in the hallway. I think I’ve only seen her once or twice.”

“One time I tried to help her carry some shit in, but she refused and gave me the dirtiest look. You would’ve thought I was trying to rob her. I was just trying to help.” He grabbed his phone. “Let me look it up.”

“Look up what?”

“Monkey balls. Maybe I’m missing something.” He typed something and scrolled. “According to this, monkey balls is slang for chafing that causes guys to walk like a monkey.” He looked up from his phone. “Well, shit. That doesn’t sound too pleasant.” He returned his eyes to the screen. “Oh! Look at this. Monkey balls are also an inedible fruit used for pest control. They ward off spiders.”

“You learn something new every day.” I chuckled.

“Thanks to Mrs. Winsbanger.” He rolled his eyes, putting his phone down.

Gosh, my cheeks hurt. Having him here made me realize again how much I’d missed adult interaction.

He took his drink out of the tray, and I noticed he had some ink on his left wrist, coming out from under his sleeve. I wondered how much of his arm was covered. Part of the ink was a word, but I couldn’t see it clearly aside from “hie” at the end. Was it a name? Ruthie? No clue.

He had the biggest, most beautiful hands, too, with prominent veins and rough skin. Long fingers. Deacon was the epitome of masculinity. I forced my eyes away from admiring him, instead focusing on the writing on the side of the cup he held. He seemed to have ordered three shots of espresso straight, no milk. A strong drink to match a strong man.

He noticed me looking at his cup. “They got my name wrong. They wrote Beekman. Who the fuck’s name is Beekman?”

“My dad’s actually,” I said, forcing a straight face.

“Are you serious?”

Releasing my stoic expression, I shook my head. “No.”

“Ah…Carys made a funny. Maybe she’s more than just the prude next door.”

“Hey!” I laughed.

He winked. “You know I’m kidding.”

“Well, I can certainly relate to the name screw-up thing. Normally, they write Paris on mine, even though I sound out the C pretty clearly.”

“That’s true, Carys-Like-Paris.”

“Sometimes they write Karen.” I shrugged. “Happens all the time.”

His eyes lingered on mine. “Carys is a unique name. I like it a lot.”

There was something about the way this man looked at you when he spoke. He gave you every shred of his attention. His eyes were two giant spotlights on me that drowned out the rest of the world.

Feeling my cheeks heat up, I said, “Thank you. It’s Welsh.”

“Are you Welsh?”

“My mother is half Welsh, yes.”

“Well, it’s a beautiful name.”

A shiver ran down my spine, as if he’d complimented me on something much more exciting than my name.

My senses were having a field day between Deacon’s amazing scent and the delicious aroma of the espresso—two of my favorite smells blended together. But mostly my body was hyperaware of the gorgeous creature standing in front of me—one who’d made a woman scream in pleasure just last night.

Deacon walked over to the corner of the room. I admired him as he examined the photos displayed on my shelves. Most of them were of Sunny, but he lifted one of me. I braced myself as he looked back and forth from the photo to where I was standing.

“You were a ballet dancer?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I was…for several years. Not anymore, obviously.”

“Professionally?”

“Yes. I performed for The Manhattan Ballet as a principal dancer.”

If I’d thought his stare was penetrating before, that was nothing compared to the way he looked at me now.

“Wow.” He glanced back down at the photo. It showed me in an arabesque. He looked at it for longer than I was comfortable with. “Why did you stop?”

I swallowed, not prepared for this discussion. “I had an injury, and it forced me to retire.” Saying the words aloud left a bitter taste in my mouth.

He seemed to freeze, looking almost like it devastated him to hear what had happened to me. “I’m sorry. That had to have been hard to go through.”

“It wasn’t easy.”

Deacon stared at me, and with each second that passed, I felt a little more naked.

“It was the hardest thing I’d been through up to that point,” I finally admitted.

“What did you do…after? When you couldn’t dance anymore?”

“I took a behind-the-scenes position with the company for a couple of years.”

“What happened with that?”

I shrugged. “Sunny happened.”

“Ah.” He sighed and placed the frame back on the bookshelf. “Of course.”

The fact that he seemed genuinely interested gave me a push to open up a bit more. “Well…Sunny happening is the short version, actually. The longer story is that I began a relationship with the director of the ballet. Charles is the son of the long-time owner. He’s in his position via nepotism. Charles was legally separated from his wife at the time I was working for him. He left me to go back to her, but not before I got pregnant.”

“Shit,” Deacon said, taking a few steps toward me.

“Yeah.” I exhaled. “Finding out about the baby didn’t change anything with us. And honestly, I wouldn’t have taken him back anyway. He had two kids already, and while he did tell his ex-wife—now wife again—about Sunny, he’s chosen not to tell his children about their half-sister. He asked me to keep his name off the birth certificate.”

“He doesn’t support her at all?”

“He gives me money under the table. It’s a minimal amount, but it helps. I take it because I’m not going to let pride get in the way of caring for my daughter.”

“Well, that’s really sucky of him not to take more responsibility.”

“I’d honestly rather he not be in her life at this point. The only thing that feels worse than not having a father around is feeling rejected by the father you do see from time to time.”

He examined my eyes. “You sound like you have personal experience with that.”

Somehow this coffee run had turned into a therapy session. Deacon had a certain quality that made me feel like I could tell him anything, like he wouldn’t judge.

“You would be correct,” I said. “My dad wasn’t around for me.” I shook my head and looked down. “Anyway, no need to get into my life story. You went for coffee. This is more than you bargained for.”

“Are you kidding? I’m the one asking the questions. Sorry for being nosy.” He took a sip of his drink. “Anyway, I hope you don’t mind me saying, I’ve always been curious about you—your deal, what happened to your baby’s dad. It’s none of my business, but I did wonder.”

I sighed. “Well, now you know.”

“Yeah.” He smiled.

Since he didn’t seem to be going anywhere, I decided to ask something I’d been curious about.

“So, what about you? What’s your deal, Deacon? Are you from New York?”

“No, actually. I’m from Minnesota originally. I came out to New York from California a few years back because I wanted a change. But I can work from anywhere.”

“What do you do?”

“I design interactive games for a company based out of Asia.”

“That sounds so cool.”

“Definitely not a career I could’ve predicted, but it’s fun. Our app is very popular, and it does well. So that gives me a little job security in the otherwise unpredictable field of entertainment.”

“So you never have to go into an office?”

“I work from home the majority of the time. Only have to go to the company’s New York office occasionally for meetings. Their headquarters are in Japan.”

“That’s a great situation.”

“It is. But sometimes it’s hard to get your shit together at home. I get distracted a lot.”

“Yeah. I think I might have heard one of those distractions during the afternoon once.” I winked.

“Ouch.” He grimaced. “And here I was, thinking I’d done a good job distracting from your initial impression of me.” He formed his fingers into an L for loser over his forehead. “Fail.”

I laughed. “Just teasing.” It amazed me how fast I’d grown comfortable around him. I enjoyed his company.

“Anyway,” he said. “The good thing about working remotely is that I can work at all hours. So if I’m goofing off during the day, I get my shit done at night.”

“It’s awesome to have flexibility like that. I’m trying to find a similar type job as we speak. Know of anyone hiring?”

“Not off the top of my head, but I can keep an ear out. What kind of work are you looking for?”

“Well, my experience is pretty much administrative work. So, maybe like a virtual assistant? But I’m open to something new. I have a degree in general studies, but I spent so many years focused on ballet that my resume is limited, aside from the couple of years I worked behind the scenes. I assumed for so long that dancing would be my career.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “That makes sense.”

I fiddled with the green stopper that had come with my latte. “Not having a job has been fine for a while. I always planned to stay home with Sunny initially, but I think it would be good for my mental health to get out of the house a couple of days a week or find something I can do from home. It’s hard to find the perfect situation. But I definitely don’t want to leave her five days a week.”

Deacon let out an exasperated breath, seeming almost overwhelmed. “A kid changes everything, huh?”

“Yeah. It really does. These six months have gone by in a blur. I feel like I’ve been in my own world. But I wouldn’t trade it. My daughter is everything.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, from the little I’ve witnessed, I think you’re doing a great job. She seems like a happy baby. You’re a good mom.”

His words made my heart flutter. I don’t think anyone had ever said that to me before. And as much as I knew I was trying my hardest every day, it was nice to hear someone acknowledge it.

“Thank you, Deacon. You’re very sweet.”

“I don’t hear that too often, but okay.”

Our eyes locked. Then he suddenly looked down at his phone. “Anyway, I’ll let you enjoy the last of your quiet time before she wakes up.”

I wanted to tell him he didn’t have to leave. Instead, I said, “I’m glad you got to know me a little today—so you know I’m more than just the cranky, cockblocking neighbor.”

“And hopefully you see me as more than just the manwhore next door.”

“Not quite yet.” I winked. “But we’re getting there.”

He chuckled. “Take care, Carys. And if you need anything from the outside world, just say the word.”

My brow lifted. “What’s the word?”

He scratched his chin. “That would have to be…monkey balls.”

I cackled. “Ah. The perfect choice.”

As he headed to his apartment, I called after him, “Thanks again for the diapers and coffee.”

He turned around to face me, walking backwards and flashing a gorgeous smile that made my heart ache a little. “Diapers and coffee. Can’t say I’ve ever been thanked for that combination before.” He winked. “My pleasure.”

After I closed the door, I leaned back against it, catching myself mid-swoon.

Really, Carys? You’re pathetic.

Don’t even go there. He wouldn’t touch this situation with a ten-foot pole. Leave it to my starving heart to take a man’s charitable gesture and turn it into the beginning of some unrealistic romance.

After I polished off the rest of my coffee, I opened up the bag of diapers he’d brought.

There was more than just the package of Luv’s inside.

He’d thrown in a little stuffed Peppa Pig.

And some earplugs.

Carys

BABY WHISPERER

A couple of weeks later, Sunny had a pediatrician appointment downtown late in the afternoon. Since we were out and about anyway, I took her to meet my friend Simone for an early dinner at a restaurant near the doctor’s office.

“How did her appointment go?” Simone asked as she perused the laminated card that listed today’s specials.

“Six-month checkup went great. The doctor says her weight is right on target for her age.”

“I’m so glad.” She looked up from the menu. “And how are you?”

I paused, momentarily stumped as to how to answer that. “Good…good.”

There was no point in venting about my day-to-day problems. Simone and I were in two different places in life, and she likely wouldn’t understand. As one of the city’s top ballet dancers, Simone was where I would have been had I not been injured: an elite principal dancer, performing at night, sleeping in most mornings, and attending rehearsals in the afternoons, in addition to having an active social life. In many ways, I lived vicariously through her. So, instead of admitting that most days I felt lonely or worried about my finances, I just responded with good.

“Have you been taking care of yourself?” she asked.

“You mean like…self-care?”

“Yeah. Taking time for yourself.”

I looked over at Sunny, who was sitting up in the highchair. Her cheeks were flushed, likely from the vaccine she’d just received. The doctor had warned me she might get a bit feverish.

I placed my hand on her forehead. “I rest when she rests, but I haven’t had a chance to go out much or, you know, get a massage or some crap like that. There’s just no time.”

Our food arrived, and Simone’s questions stopped for a bit as we shoveled in our burgers and fries.

“Are you thinking of going back to work at some point?” she asked suddenly.

Wiping the ketchup off the side of my mouth, I answered. “If I can find someone I trust to watch Sunny. But then I’d have to weigh the cost versus benefit.”

“It’s too bad your mom isn’t closer.”

What a joke. “Well, not sure she’d be able to handle it anyway.”

I loved my mother, but she wasn’t capable of taking care of Sunny. She’d had my brother and me pretty young, and had told me she was done raising kids and now was her time to enjoy life. She’d moved from where I grew up in New Jersey to Florida a few years ago. She’d made her position clear to me the couple of times I’d hinted that I’d appreciate it if she visited more.

Simone jumped in her seat a little, looking like she’d had a lightbulb moment. “You know, Cynthia was telling me they’re looking to hire a new PR person. I wonder if she’d consider you for the job. I mean, you know the ins and outs of the ballet. You’re attractive—when you’re not in your mom uniform—and you’re personable. I bet you could do a lot of it from home, writing press releases and such. You’d probably only have to go into the office occasionally or show up for special events.”

Simone performed for a different ballet company than I had. While I’d never consider going back to work for my old company—since Sunny’s estranged father was still the director—a job at a competitor would be ideal.

I perked up at her suggestion. “Really? You think she’d consider me?”

“She’s always talking about how much she admires you. And don’t take this the wrong way, but we talk about how much of a shame it is that you were injured in the prime of your career. You’re legendary in many ways. Everyone wonders what could have been if Carys Kincaid hadn’t been taken out.”

I felt her words deep in my soul. The agony over never being able to perform professionally again was something I tried to suppress.

“I’d rather still be dancing than be a legend, but it’s nice to know I’m respected posthumously.”

“Posthumously? You’re not dead, Carys!”

“I know, but in the ballet world, I might as well be.”

“Look at it this way, if it weren’t for your accident, you’d still be dancing, but you might never have gotten close to Charles, and Sunny would never have come to be. As much as we hate Charles now, he brought you Sunny. Everything happens for a reason.”

“Well, I definitely don’t regret her, so you’re right about that.”

I looked over at my daughter. Sunny smiled as if she could understand we were talking about her. I loved her little pumpkin face so much. She had the Peppa Pig Deacon had gotten her from the store in her hand and waved it around.

“That’s such a cute toy,” Simone said.

“My neighbor bought it for her.”

“The old lady across the hall?”

“No. Not crazy Mrs. Winsbanger. The guy in 5B.”

Her eyes widened. “The hot one we saw leaving the last time I visited you?”

“Yeah. Deacon.”

“He bought her a toy?”

I nodded. “He ran to the store for me a couple of weeks ago and bought that as a surprise. And that was after I scolded him for fucking someone too loudly the night before.”

Simone covered her mouth. “Oh shit. You scolded him?”

“Yeah. Kind of an embarrassing conversation, but he was really cool when I asked him if he could please keep it down.”

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “I bet I know a way around that little problem.”

“What’s that?”

“He can keep you up in a different way—you know, on your side of the wall.” She winked. “You can’t complain if you’re the one getting the action.”

“Very funny.” I brushed off her joke, but I felt my insides heat up. It wasn’t like that hadn’t already occurred to me. Before I could explain why it wouldn’t be happening, she stood up.

“Anyway, I gotta run. I have a date tonight I have to get ready for. I’ll talk to Cynthia about the PR opening and let you know what I find out, okay?”

That gave me as much anxiety as excitement. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” I got up from my seat to hug her and watched as she kissed my daughter on the top of the head.

After Simone left, I fed Sunny a couple of jars of baby food at our table.

Later, as I bundled her up to get going, I spoke to her as I often did, even though she couldn’t talk back.

“What do you think? Would you be okay if I went back to work? I don’t want to leave you, but I also want to make sure I can take care of us.”

She cooed, and I kissed her forehead. “We’ll figure it out, right? We always do.”

That evening, as Sunny and I arrived at our building, we ran into Deacon and “a friend”—a fiery redhead. They were approaching from the opposite end of the block. I wondered if she was the same person from that night two weeks ago.

When Deacon spotted me, he lifted his hand. “Hey, Carys.”

“Hey!” I stopped the stroller in front of the entrance.

“Let me get the door for you guys,” he said.

Deacon held the door open as I pushed Sunny’s stroller through. I normally had to fold it and carry it up to the second floor in one hand, while I held the baby in the other. But as soon as I took her out, Deacon worked to collapse the stroller and carried it up the stairs for me while his date quietly followed.

“Thank you for your help,” I said, my voice echoing in the stairwell.

“Of course.” He smiled. When we arrived at our floor, he finally said, “This is Kendra.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, feeling instantly jealous. I shouldn’t have, but I suppose I’d developed a crush on the guy.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Kendra said. “Your daughter is adorable.”

“Thank you.”

Once we got to our respective doors, Deacon leaned the stroller against the wall outside my apartment.

He noticed the toy in Sunny’s hand. “She likes the pig, huh?”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “That was a good choice. Thank you.”

Kendra turned to him and gushed, “Aw…you bought that for her? That’s so sweet.”

“It was,” I said. “And it helped calm her down today.”

“What happened today?” Deacon asked, looking concerned.

“She had a doctor’s appointment.”

His eyes narrowed. “Everything okay? Is she sick?”

“Just a checkup.”

“All good?”

“Yes. Thanks for asking. She had to have a shot, so that’s always stressful. But it went fine.”

“Glad to hear.” He smiled. “Well…you guys have a good night. We’re just heading inside for a nice, quiet evening.” He winked. “Maybe play some Parcheesi.”

“Ah…well, you have fun with that. I have earplugs now in the event your Parcheesi gets rambunctious.”

He laughed. “Have a good night, Carys.”

“You, too.” I waved to Kendra. “Nice meeting you.”

“Same.” She grinned.

I swallowed my jealousy as I disappeared into my apartment.

Later that night, Sunny was inconsolable. She would not stop crying, and I cursed myself for letting her get that shot today. I’d called a nurse’s hotline, and they told me her fever of 102 was normal under the circumstances, and there was no need to take her to an emergency room. They said to monitor her and make sure she was getting enough fluids.

I’d brought her into my bedroom because I couldn’t leave her alone like this. I also thought holding her would help, but it didn’t seem to matter. Holding her only made me feel better.

Her wailing continued as I paced the room and rocked her. I’d never seen her like this before.

There was a knock at the door that I barely heard through her crying.

Shit. Had one of the neighbors complained? I didn’t need anyone’s wrath on top of this.

I walked over to the door and looked through the peephole.

It was Deacon. Remembering he had that girl over, I cringed. The roles had reversed. Now we were disturbing his peace.

When I opened, I started babbling away before he had a chance to say anything. “I know we’re disturbing you, but I can’t get her to stop crying. I’m really sorry. She has a fever from the shot, I think, and there’s nothing I can do. So, if you’re going to complain like I did to you, that would only be fair, but I can’t do anything about this, so—”

“Carys, calm down. It’s okay,” he said, placing his hands on my shoulders.

The unexpected contact shot what felt like an electric current through me, which stopped my rambling. I let out a long breath. “I can’t calm down. My baby is in pain.”

“I didn’t come here to complain. I would never do that. She clearly can’t help it.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

My heart softened, but I kept myself from getting carried away. “You don’t have to check on me, Deacon.”

“I know that. I wanted to. There’s likely nothing I can do, but I can’t listen to a baby screaming for two hours straight and not offer help.”

It dawned on me that Deacon had left that chick to come over here. Kendra.

“Where’s Kendra?”

“She went back to her place.”

“She left because of the noise?”

“She…had to get up for work early in the morning, so she went home to sleep.”

“Sunny totally cockblocked you tonight. I’m sorry.”

I really wasn’t.

He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s alright.”

“When this is over, you can get me back—fuck someone’s brains out nice and loud.”

I’d expected him to laugh, but instead he looked at me with concern. I immediately wished I could take my crass joke back.

“Did you try giving her a cool bath? I’m no expert, but wouldn’t that bring the fever down? I remember my mother doing that for my brother when he was small and had a temperature.”

It seemed so obvious, but it hadn’t occurred to me—or to the damn nurses I’d talked to apparently. “You know what? That’s a good idea. I think I’ll go start a bath right now. Do you mind holding her while I run to the bathroom and set it up?”

Deacon looked anxiously around the room. Was he trying to come up with a reason not to take her from me? “Uh…sure,” he finally said.

I handed Sunny to him and took a few seconds to admire how cute it was to see Deacon holding her, bouncing her up and down gently.

I rushed to the bathroom, not wanting to freak him out too much. I’d already disrupted his night enough. Running water in the tub, I tested the temperature, so it was cool but not too cold. When I finally shut off the faucet, I noticed something odd: silence.

For the first time all night. Sunny wasn’t crying. My first instinct was to be alarmed. Had she passed out?

I darted back out to the living room, but before I could utter a word, Deacon held his index finger to his mouth.

“She just fell asleep,” he whispered.

Somehow, I was still concerned. “Are you sure she’s breathing?”

“I’m positive. I can feel it and hear it.” He swayed from side to side. “I’m afraid to stop this motion, because that’s how I got her to sleep.”

As I watched him rock her back and forth, my ovaries felt like they were about to explode. This man was sexy when he wasn’t holding a baby. Now? Off the charts.

“I don’t get why I couldn’t get her to sleep, and then you hold her for five minutes…”

“Can’t say I understand it, either.” Looking down at her, he said, “I gotta be honest, though. I kinda wanted to run for the hills when you first asked me to take her. But she made it easy.” Deacon shrugged. “Not bad for my first time holding a baby, huh?”

My mouth fell agape. “Ever? You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.” He laughed.

“That figures.”

She looked so comfy in his big arms. No wonder she’d fallen asleep. It must have been like lying in a warm, king-size bed compared to the usual fold-out cot with uncomfortable springs.

“I think you’ll be okay if you stop rocking. Normally, once she’s asleep, she stays asleep.”

His voice was low. “Should I put her down?”

I’d enjoyed watching him hold her too much to suggest that myself.

“Let’s try putting her in the crib, yeah.”

Deacon followed me to Sunny’s room. He carefully placed her on the mattress, and at first it seemed he’d been successful.

We tiptoed out of the room, seemingly in the clear until we heard rustling.

Shit!

And there was the crying again.

“Damn it,” he groaned. “I thought I was careful.”

“You were. Not your fault. She somehow sensed it. The same thing’s happened to me before. She must be super sensitive tonight because she’s sick.”

I went in to get her, but once again, she wouldn’t stop crying. It was just as it had been before.

“Should I try rocking her again?” he asked.

“I can’t make you do that. This is not your—”

“It’s no problem, Carys. Honestly.”

Deacon held out his hands, and I placed her in his arms again. He walked back out into the living room and this time sat down on the edge of couch, still rocking.

Slowly but surely, over the next several minutes, her crying slowed until it was non-existent. Sunny fell asleep again in her king-size bed.

I shook my head in amazement. “She definitely likes being in your arms.”