Crazy for Loving You: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy(32)

“Yes!” She straightens with a smile like it’s a relief to be back on neutral ground. “Two girls. Eleven and nine. Mia does swim team, and Izzy loves Tae Kwon Do. They’re both huge readers, and Mia’s in advanced math. She’s so—oh, gosh, I could go on for hours.”

“I get it. My mom used to brag about how many books I could balance on my head and how many minutes I could hold my breath underwater. Proud moms are good moms. Give it up, superstar!” I fist bump her while she goes back to slightly star struck, which is sad, because people should always tell moms they’re doing an awesome job. “What do you do when you’re not super-momming?”

“I’m a CPA with a firm downtown.”

“I love accountants! I have three of them myself, and the business has an entire accounting department. They’re awesome.”

I’ve even partied with a few of them. But Becca doesn’t strike me as the rainbow shots type of accountant.

And West definitely needs a rainbow shots kind of girl.

I have a sense about these things.

But while West sits there studying me like he’s trying to figure out if I’m playing a game with his lady friend, she beams like I’ve just told her she’s the new queen of Fish Tail-landia.

And I beam right back while I grab another hush puppy.

“Can I—is it okay if I hold the baby?” she asks. “I miss babies.”

“Of course. He loves to be held. Especially by people who know how to hold babies.”

West is still watching me.

And that’s all he does until our food arrives.

He watches me charm the pants off his lady friend.

Figuratively, I mean. Unfortunately.

It’s always more fun when clothes actually come off.





Fourteen





West



Our food hasn’t even arrived before I’m realizing that Daisy is perfectly competent at anything she wants to do.

From running a real estate empire to playing fucking matchmaker to learning everything she needs to know from someone who doesn’t realize she doesn’t know it.

Anyone walking by—and Becca herself—would see Daisy building Becca up like the best mom in the entire universe. You hold him so well. Aw, is he looking at your necklace? Babies love shiny dangly things, don’t they? When did your girls say their first words?

She’s making Becca’s whole entire year. But she’s also soaking in every word like Becca’s offering a crash course on motherhood.

Which will be catastrophic if Daisy decides Becca needs to be her new best friend.

My nerves can tolerate a lot.

Having Daisy talk me up to Becca while pretending she’s a ditz who misses social cues and needs motherhood advice?

It’s worse than having my mother play matchmaker.

And she once asked a sold-out theater if there were any takers for her single military son, because she wanted grandbabies.

It got so many laughs it went in permanently and now everyone in the world with a Netflix account can soak up the glory of my mother’s sense of humor about my single status.

Our food arrives. Becca keeps holding Remy and telling Daisy stories about raising her girls while she balances eating with jiggling him anytime he makes a little noise.

He’s a funny kid.

Doesn’t just sleep all the time. Sometimes he’s looking around like he’s not sure how he ended up in this weird world, or what it all means. Other times he has this almost-smile on his face that makes me think he knows something I don’t.

He might only be two months old, but he already has a personality.

And if personality is genetic—I shoot another glance at Daisy when our food arrives—then he’ll go places in the world.

Whether those places are good places or bad places, he’ll undoubtedly jump in with both feet.

And there’s a gnawing sensation in the pit of my stomach that suggests overnight is all I needed to fall in love with the little guy.

To want to be here to see him grow up.

Fuck.

Just babysitting, I remind myself. I’m just here temporarily babysitting. I can care, but I need to be prepared to move on.

“I’m getting him the hugest library,” Daisy tells Becca. “All the classics. Dr. Seuss. Baby Einstein. Phoebe Moon. Plus the rest of the bookstore. Have you seen our bookstore here in Bluewater? It’s so cute. Oh! Isn’t Pixie sweet? She gave you extra shrimp.”

Becca’s big red seafood bucket is overflowing with more shrimp, crawfish, and crab legs than two Marines could eat in an entire day, which is impressive, and it smells like melted butter topped with deliciousness and magic.

“I don’t think extra shrimp was necessary,” Becca says with a small laugh. “Wow. This is…huge.”

Daisy winks and slides a glance my way. “I’ve said that a time or two lately. Want to try the mahi? It’s delicious. Trade you a bite for a few shrimp.”

They swap parts of their lunch like they’re long-lost sisters, and Becca slides me a look as though she’s wondering what Daisy’s seen on me that’s huge.

She hasn’t mentioned her new boyfriend again.

And I don’t give two fucks.

What the hell was I thinking? Becca isn’t into me.