Crazy for Loving You: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy(53)

And shots.

Fuck, that was a long night.

Hell, it’s a long week, and I’m not even doing most of the parenting.

Daisy is.

Which is also dangerously attractive.

Who would’ve thought a partying heiress would take so well to instant motherhood?

But she does. And I’m just going about my life trying to be nothing more than a guy enjoying a different beach house.

I wake up Sunday morning to thunder outside and a perfunctory knock at the door.

Shit.

I overslept. And I told Daisy I’d take Remy this morning because she has a date.

The thought makes me growl way more than I have any right to as I leap up, quickly straightening the covers because old habits die hard, and I’ve made my bed every day of my adult life. Basic training drilled it into me. Retirement doesn’t mean I can let it go.

But instead of Daisy, three men I recognize by reputation and folklore walk into my bedroom.

The shortest of the three—who’s still nearly as tall as I am—is carrying Remy.

At least, I hope that’s Remy, and not another child I’ve unknowingly temporarily inherited.

“Ah, good. You’re up,” he says with hints of a clipped British accent.

“That’s good?” the blond tree trunk with a military buzz cut says.

“Not good,” the blond tree trunk with the thick beard says. “I wanted to have the honors.”

“Gentlemen, we’re giving him the benefit of the doubt for the moment. Also—” the dark-haired one holds the baby out to me.

I reach for him automatically, and all three men put their fingers to their noses.

“Forking shirt,” I mutter, because I’m trying to cuss less around Remy.

“He soiled himself after we relieved Daisy of him,” the ringleader says. “In case you’re tempted to blame her. Derek Price. Pleasure to meet you. Finally.”

“I’d shake, but my hands are full,” I say dryly.

“Not as full as they’re about to be,” Beard says. “Beck Mason.”

Beck—he’s the one who works with animals. “The cats?”

“All Daisy’s now.”

“I’ve noticed.” The gray tabby—Elvira—sleeps on my bed most nights.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Not at all. I love having cats watch me shower and trip me on my way to take a piss.” That’s Twinkle Toes. The previously puking cat that Daisy’s housekeeper tells me is now on a special sensitive stomach diet.

“Weird, but if that’s what you like,” Mysterious Military Man says. “Jude Ellis. Don’t piss me off.”

I carry Remy to the changing table in the next room. Even though this is temporary, it’s set up like it’s permanent. Crib, changing table, baby swing, play mat—twin to everything Daisy has in her quarters.

I tell myself it’s where the nanny will eventually go, because I need to remind myself I’m temporary. A few months, Daisy says. Maybe shorter if she gets enough positive press about what a great guardian she’s become.

The men all follow me into the baby’s room.

“I have four sisters,” I tell them. “Go on. Get the inquisition over with so we can go have a beer.”

“No inquisition,” Derek assures me. “We’ve already checked your background thoroughly.”

“And tailed you to work,” Jude adds.

“And interrogated the cats about how you act when no one’s watching,” Beck chimes in. He doesn’t blink.

Or crack a grin.

But he does crack a knuckle.

I have a moment of honestly believing he can communicate with felines. And I don’t trust Twinkle Toes to not tell lies about me.

Shit.

I need more sleep. I haven’t even been pulling most of the overnighters, but I still need more sleep.

“What can I do for you three this morning?” I ask while I prep for diaper duty.

“We merely wanted to get to know you better, since it appears you’ll be in Daisy’s life for a while,” Derek says.

Clearly the smooth-talker of the group, and this storyline of you’ll be in Daisy’s life for a while is making my shoulders hitch. Every day, I get a little more attached.

Every day, I start to believe a little more that Daisy wants help.

From me.

Even when she’s being perfectly cheerful and professional—not a word I would’ve pinned to her that first night, or even the second—there’s this look in her eyes.

Like she’s not entirely certain she’s doing it right.

“You know Daisy well?” I ask.

“Helped her out of a jam a few years back. Jude and Beck are newer friends, but it doesn’t take long to fall in love with Daisy.”

“Your ladies know you’re interested in their friend?”

“She’s like a sister,” Beck informs me.

“Sometimes annoying, sometimes awesome, always lovable,” Jude agrees.

“Unless she’s skinny-dipping.”

“In Cam’s pool.”

“Caught her in Luna’s too.”

“I found her in Emily’s shower,” Derek says.