a question. I’ve seen the pictures. Skydiving. Hiking the Andes. I’m just wondering what you need to escape from.”
“Stress,” he answered flatly, methodically spinning a pen on a pad of paper. She hadn’t noticed his hands much before now and she was kicking herself for not paying better attention. His fingers moved gracefully, demonstrating their ability to do things deftly, but they were manly, too—strong. Able.
“Stress.” Her stupid brain leaped ahead to methods of reducing stress and none of it had to do with reading. Again she was knee-deep in thoughts of what he looked like under that T-shirt.
“Yes.” He opened his laptop and placed his fingers on the keyboard, but stopped before typing. “I don’t even know where to start. Do I just search for baby crib?”
“Here. Let me do it.” She carried Oliver around behind Aiden’s desk and handed him the baby. Oliver settled in on Aiden’s lap, but reached for the pen.
“Can I let him have this?”
“No. He’ll put it in his mouth. You can run upstairs and grab a toy out of his room.”
Aiden raised an eyebrow as if she’d made the most ludicrous suggestion ever.
She shrugged and waved him off. “Gotta start being Daddy sometime. Now shoo. Let me see what I can find online.”
Aiden trekked out of the office with Oliver. Sarah rested her chin on her hand, watching as they made their way down the straight shot of the house, past the library and the kitchen, until they disappeared up the stairs. Aiden was so big, Oliver so tiny in his arms. She hoped to hell they would be okay on Sunday, after she left. She couldn’t bear the thought of anything else.
She pulled up a browser window and quickly found a furniture place offering next day delivery in Manhattan. That was the genius part of being in a big city. Virtually anything could be delivered at any time. Once she was done, a delivery truck would be set to arrive in front of Aiden’s building tomorrow morning. And she’d be one step closer to removing herself from Aiden’s and Oliver’s life.
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