Those Three Words: A Single Dad, Billionaire Boss Romance(47)

I clamp my hands over my ears. “I don’t want to hear about it; he’s like a brother to meeeee!” I sing and she pulls my hands down.

“So are you going to be mad?”

“Mad? About what?”

“That your two best friends are dating and like in love or whatever.”

“Are you kidding me? I think it’s amazing. At your wedding I’m taking full credit for this shit.” We both laugh. “But seriously, all I care about is that you guys are happy. Well, I care more that you’re happy first, then him, but yeah, it won’t be weird. Just don’t go making out and getting all handsy around me all the time.” I wink at her, and she pulls me in for a hug.

“You’re like the sister I never had, babe.” She pulls back and looks at me. “Seriously, I love you so much.”

“I know. I love you too, Shell.”

We spend the rest of the afternoon together. We venture downstairs where Niles makes us custom-ordered wood-fired pizzas that are out of this world. Finally, Shelly leaves around four p.m. to head back to the city.

Graham still isn’t home, and I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. I feel like if I were to see him, I’d be embarrassed. I don’t regret what happened last night, but I was certainly the one that took things in the direction they went. Mostly, I’m worried he regrets it and is avoiding me.

Around six p.m., Eleanor returns home from her grandma’s house, fed and bathed, with Muffin in tow.

“Look, look, look what I made Muffin,” she says with excitement, holding Muffin up so I can see the friendship bracelet she has around her paw that matches the one on Eleanor’s wrist.

“That is beautiful,” I say as I take Muffin in my arms.

“I made you one too,” she says, reaching into her tiny pocket and holding one out to me.

“Oh, thank you, sweetheart.” I hold out my wrist so she can slide it over my hand.

We sit on the floor of her bedroom as she tells me everything she did at her grandma’s house today.

“Do you like my daddy?” The question comes out of nowhere.

“Yes, of course I like your daddy. I also like you and your grandma and Phil,” I say, hoping I’m not confusing her in what way I mean.

“Do you love my daddy?” She doesn’t look up from brushing her doll’s hair.

I don’t know what to say here. I certainly don’t want to confuse her. Mr. Hayes made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t want her confused about my role in this family.

“Well, sweetie, I wouldn’t say that, but he loves you very much.” I try to steer the conversation in a different direction.

“I think Daddy loves you.”

My heart feels like it just dropped into my ass.

“No, sweetie. Your daddy doesn’t love me. Me and your daddy are friends and I love you very much.”

“Are you and Daddy going to be kissing friends?”

Oh my God, what did she see? Panic grips me.

“Uh, why would you ask that, sweetie?”

She looks up at me and shrugs. “Cuz I—I want you to be together.”

She says it so matter-of-factly it really concerns me. I feel like I’ve gone out of my way to never give her the impression that there’s anything going on between her dad and me. And when things did happen between us, she wasn’t even home.

“I think Daddy loves you. He talks about you all the time,” she says dramatically.

“Daddy doesn’t love me—he talks about me?” I’m intrigued.

“Mm-hmm.” She keeps brushing her doll’s hair. I reach out and put my hand over the doll, and she looks up at me.

“What does he say?” I know this is a slippery slope I’m going down but it’s too late.

“He asked me if you had a boyfriend.”

“When?”

“Last night. He read me my book and he kept asking about you.” She picks her doll up and places it against the wall with the others before grabbing another one and bringing it over. She sits back down and begins to brush this one’s hair now.

“Did he say anything else?” I feel like an asshole interrogating a five-year-old and now that I think about it, I’m not sure how accurate information is from a five-year-old, but I’m desperate to know more.

She shakes her head no. “He just asks if you, if you—” She loses her train of thought briefly. “If you talk about him.”

I cover my mouth to hide my smile.

Holy shit… Mr. Graham Hayes totally has a crush on me and I know his secret.





16





GRAHAM





“I just don’t trust her, sir.”

I glance up from my iPad where I’ve been attempting to read the same article for the last fifteen minutes.

“Based on?” I take a sip of my espresso and double-check the time. It’s almost seven forty-five a.m. I know Eleanor is most likely awake now, and she and Margot will be coming downstairs for breakfast soon. I’m not trying to ignore her; quite the opposite actually, but I don’t trust that I’ll be able to not grab her and kiss her, whoever is around be damned.

“She just seems deceptive, like she’s up to something.”