Diamond Rose, in her Pack ’n Play on the floor in the living room, was out of sight, but her monitor rested securely in the back pocket of his jeans.
He stood back as Tamara moved through an archway into the kitchen, which ran almost half the length of the house. One end held an informal eating area with bay windows and the other housed a more formal dining room set. A set his mother would have loved and had never seen.
He’d purchased the high-top suite for eight soon after meeting Stella.
“Dinner smells wonderful,” she said, stopping to look at the pool out the kitchen window.
He wanted to tell her she looked wonderful. In leggings and a white shirt, gathered at the waist in back, that fell just past the tops of her thighs, with her amber
hair loose and falling around her shoulders... He was sure he’d never seen anyone so beautiful.
And was getting way ahead of himself.
She’d turned. Was leaning against the counter, the window at her back with the landscape lighting a soft glow around her.
Maybe he’d pushed things too far, too fast. Having her over for dinner. It wasn’t his normal approach.
But nothing about his life was normal anymore.
Nor was anything about this woman. The way she’d showed up in his life at the exact moment she had, preventing him from being fired long enough for him to make the trade that had, he was certain, ensured him his job. And then, when he’d been frantic about Diamond Rose, finding it impossible to calm her, in walked Tamara, who’d calmed her almost instantly.
He might not believe in karma and all the woo-woo stuff his mother used to spout, but he couldn’t resist wondering, once again, if Alana Gold, in her death, was sending him her own version of karma. Proving that good was rewarded. That there was help beyond self-reliance.
That miracles really could happen...
“I, um, have to talk to you.”
Little good ever came of those words.
He’d been about to get a bottle of wine. Stopped before he’d actually opened the refrigerator door.
His weekend took a nosedive. “What’s up?”
“You told me about your ex and...I need to tell you something.”
“You know Stella?” It was the first thought that sprang to mind. Was his ex-fiancée having him watched? He wouldn’t put it past her. She was going to hang him out to dry for deceiving her by not telling her he wasn’t from a nice, clean, rich family like hers. For daring to think she’d be willing to raise his dirty mother’s orphaned child.
“No!” Tamara frowned, cocking her head to look at him. “Of course not. I just...need to be honest with you about something.”
“Wine first,” he said, grabbing the bottle of California Chardonnay. He opened it and poured two glasses, handing one to her without asking if she wanted it.
She took a sip, nodded.
Taking that as a win, he scooped up the platter of grapes and cheese he’d prepared and carried it into the dining area. Pulling out one of the chairs for her before seating himself perpendicular to her—where he could also glance across the L-shaped entryway and into the living room.
Tamara had said she needed to be honest with him. He had to listen.
And hope that whatever she had to say wouldn’t be as bad as he was imagining. It would be a shame to have a second lasagna dinner drying out in the oven that week. Especially since he’d spent an hour the night before talking to a sleeping Diamond Rose while he’d prepared it.
“I—” Tamara looked at him, her expression...odd. He couldn’t figure out why.
Glancing away, she took a grape, put it in her mouth, and he had an instant vision of a movie he’d seen once at a bachelor party. Tamara had a way of making a grape look even sexier than that, and she was fully dressed.
“I don’t normally... I haven’t ever...talked about this with anyone but my closest friends, so bear with me here.”
He wanted to let her off the hook, to tell her that honesty was overrated. But after the week he’d had, the life he’d had, he couldn’t do it.
No more stabs in the back, bonks over the head or officers at his door. He had Diamond Rose to protect.