Surprise Baby for my Billionaire Boss

Quinn turns her attention to my little girl with another sweet smile. “They’re raspberry and white chocolate,” she whispers, as though sharing the secret of hidden treasure. I can already tell she has a way with children. Heck, she isn’t much more than a kid herself; maybe twenty, but who knows these days?

Rose looks at me with eyes big as two moons. “Your favorite,” I say. “How did she know?” I glance sideways at our visitor and give her a wink.

“Well, they happen to be my favorite too,” Quinn says.

“Uh, won’t you come in?” I ask, realizing I’ve left her standing on the stoop for nearly a full minute. I step back and lower Rose to the floor.

“Thank you.” Quinn steps in and kneels down to Rose’s level. “Would you like one?” she asks, holding the tray toward her. Rose nods and plucks out the nearest muffin that’s almost too big for her tiny hand.

“What do you say?” I prompt, trying desperately not to focus on the sweet treat of Quinn’s cleavage that’s open to my line of sight as she bends down. God, her tits looked like two delicious melons being served up in the tight cotton wraps of her shirt.

“Thank you,” Rose says, then skips away to sit on one of the many sealed boxes still littering the room to devour her prize. I sigh at the reminder of how much work we still have to do.

“She’s so sweet,” Quinn says, rising to her feet again. “May I put these in your kitchen?” she asks, lifting her tray.

“Oh, let me,” I say, taking the tray from her hands. I feel like all my manners have flown out the window with just one look at this willowy blonde doe. Bambi seemed like the right name for her rather than Quinn. She follows me into the kitchen where I set the goods down on the counter. “Thank you for these. You’re quite right—I haven’t done any shopping yet.”

“I knew the folks who lived here before,” she says. “I can see they repainted a bit since I saw this house last, but I suppose you’ll probably want to put your own stamp on it. Do you need some help unpacking? Awful lot of boxes you’ve got here.”

Hmm. Inquisitive type. Not shy at a

ll. I’m intrigued. “Thank you, but I’ve got most of today and tomorrow off, so I’m sure we’ll manage.”

“That’s nice. What is it that you do?”

“I own my own business, Brenner Construction. We build houses, small commercial properties, do a bit of landscaping.”

“Oh, how nice… being your own boss. I hope I can do that too after I graduate. I’m still a student.”

“Oh, where at?” I ask, my mental gears doing the math. As a student, she could be anywhere from eighteen to twenty-three years old. Why do you care, you randy old man?

“I’m at ASU. Just one more year to get my Masters.”

“A Masters? Wow, that’s quite an achievement.” That was a lot of years to be in school. “What are you studying?” Before she can answer, my cell phone goes off. “Excuse me,” I say, grabbing it from my pocket. “Brenner Construction, Logan here,” I answer, knowing full well it’s my foreman Dan Reardon calling. It must be important if he’s interrupting my time off.

He tells me the backhoe has struck some kind of mystery object buried beneath our latest job site. The first-call report hadn’t indicated anything inside the right-of-way, so it must be something ancient that escaped the survey information. I have to be there, but I’ve got Rose. “Are you sure? Has it ruptured, or leaked anything?” I notice Quinn has gone over to sit cross-legged on the floor next to Rose. Rose smiles at her with raspberry smears on her face and a mouth full of muffin. I guess I don’t need to worry about lunch, after all.

“Not exactly, but it’s pretty rusty. Afraid to disturb it anymore—it might just crumble to pieces and who the hell knows what’s inside it,” Dan says.

“Okay, just flag it off and leave it. I’ve got Rose with me, so I can’t get there until I find a sitter. Don’t know if Lila’s off today.” Or if she’s sober. Quinn looks up and waves at me, obviously overhearing my conversation. “I’ll have to call you back, Dan.”

“If you need to leave, I can watch Rose for you. I don’t have classes today, and I’m kinda the resident babysitter on the block. I know every kid within a mile radius, ask anyone,” Quinn says with a reassuring smile.

It’s a tempting offer, but I don’t know anyone on the block, and I only met this girl five minutes ago. I’d be an irresponsible parent leaving my precious Rose with a stranger. I might have been a shitty partner and a spiteful son, but I’m sure as hell planning to be a top-notch father. “That’s kind of you, but I can’t impose. Nothing personal, but I really don’t know you well enough to have you watch my daughter.”

Quinn looks a bit disappointed but nods in understanding. “It’s no trouble at all, really. Would you feel better if I showed you some letters of reference? I have several at home, I’ll run and get them if you’d like?” she says as she moves toward the front door.

“No!” Rose cries, dropping muffin crumbs on the floor as she toddles toward us. “Don’t go ‘way…”

Quinn turns to her. “Nice to meet you, Rose. I’ll come see you another day, okay?”

Rose’s crestfallen look stabs at my heart. Both guilt and anger rise in me at the realization that she’s desperate for motherly attention. God knows her own mother didn’t provide it, abandoning us like she did. Having a grandmother back in the picture is wonderful, but it can’t compare to a real, full-time, loving mom. One who bakes her favorite muffins and has clearly won her affection already.

“Uh, that’s okay. References won’t be necessary,” I interrupt. “Are you sure you want to? I shouldn’t be more than an hour, and I’ll pay you extra for the short notice. Call it rush charges,” I say with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, thank you for putting your trust in me. I’m a great babysitter, honest. I’ll get you those references for next time, just to put your mind at ease.” Quinn reaches for a handshake.

I take her slim, soft hand in my big, callused one. It feels warm and welcoming, and I want to hold it forever, like a rare flower that is blooming just for my daughter and me—even if only for an hour. “You already have. Looks like I picked a great neighborhood.” And neighbors—with benefits.