He carefully turned Oliver in his hands, but it wasn’t easy—it was like holding on to a greased-up watermelon with moving arms and legs. “I’m trying to figure out how I’m supposed to do this by myself.”
“I ordered a seat that goes in the tub. That will help immensely. And it won’t be long before he can sit up reliably in the bath on his own.”
Now that he and Oliver were facing each other, Aiden had a chance to really study him. Oliver returned the gaze, chewing on a rubbery red fish. His eyes were so sweet and innocent, full of wonder. Aiden saw only hope, remarkable considering what the little guy had been through. As Sarah rinsed his hair, Aiden was overcome with the most unusual feeling. It was stronger than his inclination to protect Oliver from big waves. It was a need to keep him from everything bad. He never wanted Oliver’s eyes to reflect anything but happiness. Had his own father ever looked at him like this? He didn’t enjoy the role of pessimist, but the idea was implausible.
Sarah rolled a small bar of soap in her delicate hands and washed Oliver’s back, shoulders and stomach, while Aiden held on tight. Every gentle caress showed someone who genuinely cared about her charge. He’d never really seen this side of any woman aside from on TV or in movies, and it was breathtaking to watch. If he were honest, he’d never done so many things with a woman that gave him a taste of what being a couple was like. Wining, dining and seduction were not the same. This was different.
Sarah swept her hair to one side, displaying the stretch of her graceful neck, the contours of her collarbone. Her skin was so touchable, and the urge to do exactly that was strong with her mere inches away. His hands were practically twitching at the idea. He had to set his mind on another course.
“So. Tell me more about you,” he said.
She smiled and sat back on her haunches. “Not much to tell. Born and raised in Ohio, oldest of five. Moved to Boston to study fashion design, stayed for the good nanny jobs.”
“Why not go right into design?”
She plucked a washcloth from the bathroom vanity and wiped her hands. “Nannying was a detour. I grew up helping out with my siblings, so it was a natural thing to care for children. And Boston is not cheap. Nannying pays well. It just worked.”
“If you liked it that much and it paid well, how does that stop working?”
She looked down at the floor, her golden hair falling down around her face. “I burned out. Badly. Let’s put it that way.”
That didn’t make sense. She didn’t seem at all burned out on caring for Oliver. If anything, she had superhuman stamina and patience when it came to it. “And the rest? Surely there’s a special guy in your life.”
“There is.” Her face lit up so brightly that it was as if someone had sucker punched him. So much for seduction. There was another man.
“His name is Oliver,” she continued. “He’s so sweet. He doesn’t talk much. Drools a fair amount. Still learning how to walk. Exactly like I like my men.”
He laughed and shook his head. She was ridiculously charming and clever, probably why he had such a strong reaction to the idea of her with a boyfriend.
She flipped her hair back and grinned at Oliver. “But seriously, the right guy hasn’t walked into my life and I’m not about to wait. I’m too busy trying to build my business to think about stuff like that. Romance is not on my radar right now.”
No wonder he’d been feeling as though he and Sarah might be kindred spirits, even though they came from different worlds. She wasn’t looking for love. And neither was he. And with only ten days together, that might be perfect.
* * *
Sarah was ready to claim victory over bath time—Oliver was clean and she hadn’t been caught staring at Aiden. It was a miracle since she’d been doing exactly that, sneaking peeks at his chest, broad and firm with the most perfect patch of dark hair in the center. Then there were his glorious shoulders and his sculpted biceps. She’d also spent a fair amount of time studying the tattoo on the inside of his forearm—a dark and intriguing pattern, impossible to decipher.
She bopped Oliver on the nose with the tip of her finger. “Hey, mister. It’s time for somebody to get out of the bath and get into pj’s.”
Aiden furrowed his brow. “Sarah’s no fun,” he said to Oliver. “I don’t know about you, but I’m good for at least another fifteen minutes.”
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