CEO Daddy (Crescent Cove 6.50)

For a moment, the truthfulness—and pain—in her statement reached down deep inside me to where I felt the same.

I hated myself for feeling that way. For the small moments of resentment that crept in when I became irritated at having to worry about Lily when I should be focusing on the newspaper. I was the only one who could pull it out of the hole we’d fallen into. I was the only one who cared enough.

And yet, I was all Lily had too.

Not entirely, of course. My grandmother adored her. She treated her as a true great-granddaughter, just as she had from the day Lily had been brought into our world on a permanent basis.

I was the one who was struggling to adapt to the new role that had been thrust upon me. Maybe if the newspaper had been thriving, maybe if I had been thriving, and not so exhausted and frustrated and worn thin, I would’ve been able to bounce back quicker.

Maybe I wouldn’t have felt as if I was drowning.

Rather than my grandmother arguing with Hannah—God knows I couldn’t have since I felt the same, much as I hated admitting it—she simply nodded and set her half-eaten cookie aside. “I understand. I hoped you would change your mind, because I truly feel in my gut you are the right one to help my Snug—”

“Jesus, can we not?”

She ignored me. Probably as she should have, since I was being a dick right now. “But my great-granddaughter is far too precious to foist on anyone.” She rose and dusted off the crumbs on her purple pants. “I apologize for wasting your time, Hannah, and I do hope we can still be friends.”

“Oh. Well, yes. Of course. My apologies for the trouble.” Obviously flustered, Hannah finished off her tea and cookie—palming the other fast enough she probably figured my eagle-eyed grandmother wouldn’t see—and stood.

I did too despite the fact I was not ready to let her out of my sight again. But now thanks to my grandmother, I had her last name.

At least I had a route to finding her again. If I so chose.

“Thank you for coming.” My voice was stiff, but that couldn’t be helped. I couldn’t look away from her. Couldn’t miss another couple moments in her presence. “I’ll walk you out.”

Hannah picked up her purse with the hand not hiding the cookie and attempted to smile. “Thanks.”

I motioned for her to go ahead of me. She’d made it about three steps when a loud cry sounded from upstairs.

All three of us froze. Then I sprung into action.

I ran for the stairs, shocked at Hannah blocking my path. She was already heading up too.

“You don’t know where you’re going. Move.”

She kept right on heading up, her speed swift enough that I couldn’t fault her for slowing me down. As if she’d been here a million times before, she followed the baby’s cries into the nursery, and I burst into the room behind her with my grandmother on our heels.

Lily was half out of her crib, seemingly hanging, precariously close to falling.

“Lily.” My panicked shout spurred Hannah into action. She picked up my baby before I could, cradling her in her arms like a natural, murmuring to her while Lily cried.

Almost immediately, the baby’s tears began to slow.

With my heart still in my throat, I glanced at my grandmother. Although she was clearly still upset, her expression said one thing clearly.

I told you so.

Seven

I cuddled Lily closer to my chest, shocked at how right she felt in my arms. I wasn’t sure when the last time was that I’d held a baby, but this one might as well have been meant for me.

That wasn’t even considering that I might be holding her the wrong way. I was supporting her head, just as I was supposed to, but she was so long. Probably why she’d almost vaulted out of her crib, for heaven’s sake.

She was a tiny little baby. Well, age-wise. Wasn’t she?

“She’s only eight months, right? Isn’t that what you told me?” I asked once Lily’s sobs had eased into hiccupping gasps. Poor thing.

“Yes.” Bess hurried over to stroke Lily’s head, murmuring softly to her great-grandchild.