“I’m sorry his father was such a dick. I’d beat his ass for you if I could.”
That makes me smile because West is a big guy.
He’s well over six feet, which I like because I’m five ten, so tall guys are a novelty. One I like a lot.
“It’s been almost four years. Joey just turned three and I was pregnant for nine months so he’s really a distant memory. And yes, before you ask—it was a one-night stand.”
“Hey, no judgment here,” he says quietly. “I’ve had my share of one-nighters, and if there ended up being a baby because of one, I’d man the fuck up and take care of my kid.”
I cough lightly, motioning to the back seat and he grimaces.
“Sorry. I forgot he’s back there.”
“He’s actually half-asleep but you know how kids are—he parrots almost everything these days.”
“Are we getting close?” he asks.
“It’s the next right,” I say. “It’s a long dirt road but should be okay to drive on. I rent a renovated barn in the back of a farm, and the owners keep it up.”
“A barn?”
I laugh. “It’s not what you’re thinking. It used to be a barn, so it has barn-like charm, but it’s been renovated into a one-bedroom apartment with a little sitting room that I use as Joey’s room. The location isn’t ideal, but it’s cheap and Rudy, the owner, is really good about repairs and stuff.”
“That’s important.”
“The turn is right up here.”
He slows down even more and takes the turn expertly, and then we bump along the road until I see the lights from the farmhouse where Rudy and his wife Gemma live.
“Turn in where you see the yellow flag,” I say.
The SUV skids a little when he turns this time but he easily corrects it and stops safely in front of my apartment.
“Let me get the car seat for you,” he says, immediately getting out.
Joey’s asleep so I lift him and carry him toward the front door, calling over my shoulder, “if you can bring the car seat inside, I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure.”
I lay Joey on the couch and turn just as West comes in, holding the car seat and the duffel I’d filled with everything from my car.
Jesus, his shoulders fill out the whole doorway and he looks a little like a lumberjack or something, standing there.
A lumberjack in a tuxedo, which makes me giggle.
“What’s funny?” he asks, arching a brow.
“Sorry. You look like a lumberjack in a tuxedo.”
He smiles. “Thanks. I think.”
“Trust me—it’s a compliment.” I smile back, hoping I don’t sound too flirtatious. He’s just incredibly hot.
“Just put that stuff anywhere.” I kick off my shoes and rub my hands up and down my arms. “Brr. I need to turn on the heat.”
“Need help with anything else?”
He has no idea how badly I want to say yes.