The Anti-Boyfriend(42)

After a couple of minutes in my arms, Sunny’s wailing had reduced to quiet sniffles.

Bopping her up and down, I asked, “What happened to the Bee Gees? I heard the music earlier. They didn’t help much this time, huh?”

“No. I guess they’ve run their course…like a lot of things.”

Ouch. I pretended that went over my head. “That sucks. We’ll have to find something else.”

A few seconds of awkward silence passed. “Why did you really come over here?” she asked. “I doubt it was to return this dusty binky.”

I looked down at Sunny to gather my thoughts. “I wanted to check in on you, see how you’re doing. It’s been a while.”

“Well, at the moment, not good, Deacon. Because I’m supposed to be attending an important event for work tonight, and Sharon had to cancel.”

Shit. “Why didn’t you call me?” I asked without thinking.

“Do you really not know the answer to that?”

Of course, that was a dumb question. “What time are you supposed to be there?”

“I was supposed to be there fifteen minutes ago.”

I waved my hand. “Go. I’ll watch her.”

She shook her head. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Carys…I know I fucked up our friendship. And I’m sorry. But I still care about you. And I don’t want you to miss this thing if it’s important. So maybe just take me up on my offer so you don’t have to piss off your boss. Then you can process it later. We’ll talk when you get back.” When she didn’t say anything, I pushed. “You need that job. Now’s not the time for pride.”

She sighed. “I don’t know…”

“Look how calm Sunny is right now. It’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

We’ll be fine.

Sunny and me? Yes.

You and me? Not so sure.

Blinking several times, she finally conceded. “Okay.”

“Good,” I said. “Now go, so you don’t miss too much.”

Carys rushed around in search of her things, grabbing her purse and a quick glass of water. She wore high, red-bottomed heels. Fuck, her legs looked good in those shoes. My mouth watered as I admired the curve of her little, round ass in that dress. Then jealousy set in at the thought of men ogling her tonight.

Kissing Sunny on the head, she said, “Be a good girl.”

I took a deep breath of her scent for the few seconds she was close.

She finally looked up at me. “I won’t be back too late.”

“Take as long as you need.”

Another whiff of her perfume hit me as she blew out the door.

After she was gone, I looked down at Sunny.

“We got this, right? No surprises tonight.” I put my forehead against hers. “And you know what that means.”

When she smiled, it reminded me how much I’d missed her pure, non-judgmental sweetness. No one ever looked at me like Sunny Kincaid did. And I didn’t deserve a shred of it. I wished I could warn her not to get too attached to the man next door. I’d only end up disappointing her, like I had so many other people who’d trusted me.

Wandering the room with her in my arms, I spoke in a low voice. “Do you ever wonder who the hell I am? I’m not even sure I formally introduced myself, Sunny. You probably just look at me as the weird, big guy who comes over sometimes and holds you.” I smiled. “Anyway…I’m Deacon. Can you say Deacon?” I pointed to my chest. “Deacon.”

She cooed.

Sunny actually let me put her down on the playmat, which surprised me.

I spent the better part of the next hour sitting on the couch while I watched her play on the floor. “Deacon,” I kept repeating, to see if by some chance she’d try to say my name. I’d pretty much given up when I heard her say what sounded like…dick.

Then she repeated, “Deek.”

I cracked up. “That’s right!”

She’d babbled many different sounds tonight, and it could have been a coincidence, but I had myself convinced she was trying to say Deacon. Or maybe Dick was a more accurate description of me lately. Either way, it worked for me. Deacon or Dick. Tomato, Tomahto. I’d take any D sound she wanted to give me.

A knock at the door interrupted my little celebration. I assumed it might have been Carys returning early, though that didn’t make sense.

After I opened, I regretted not checking the peephole first, because it was a man I didn’t recognize. He wore a black tuxedo and looked to be in his late thirties.

“Who are you?” he asked.

My body went rigid. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”

“I’m Charles, Sunny’s father.”

What the fuck? Gritting my teeth, I clenched my fists. “Does Carys know you’re here?”

When he didn’t immediately respond, I knew the answer was no.

This guy wasn’t exactly what I’d pictured. He was average-looking, with blond hair and shorter than I’d imagined. Basically, Carys could have done a lot better.

“Let me guess… You expected to find some vulnerable, old woman watching the baby so you could weasel your way in here while Carys was out?”

When he took a few steps forward, I held out my hand. “No. Stay back. I’m not letting you in.”