Page 23 of Fighting Chance

It takes one to spot another.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t do this job, though, and I would like to be treated just like a regular employee. I can manage my illness and help you with Emmy just fine.”

“I know.”

Her mouth opens, only to snap shut as she quickly shakes her head. “With that being said, we should have a plan in place…just in case I have a flare-up. Perhaps I could give you the name of my doctor and send you my medical files for?—”

I push off the rack and slowly stalk toward her, loving and savoring the way she inhales a sharp breath, her small frame swallowed by mine. “I trust you to manage your own body, Layla. You don’t have to share your private medical files. If you have a flare-up, we can cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Her head rears back. “Oh. T-thank you,” she stammers out.

Winking, I turn back to the clothes to find Emmy some pajamas. I wonder what TV shows kids watch these days. There seems to be a lot ofBlueyandPaw Patrolmerch.

I should Google which one is best for kids. Or should I be aparent that does no screen time? Fuck, maybe we should go down to the book section and pick out some parenting books.

“You can’t flirt with me.”

Layla’s sudden outburst has me turning to face her, my lips twitching at her crimson cheeks.

“Excuse me?” I drawl, my voice filled with humor.

“You’re going to be my boss. You can’t flirt with me.”

I snort out a derisive laugh. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

“What?” she asks incredulously.

I place my hands on my hips as I stare her down. “I’m not going to stop.”

She all but huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “And why not?”

Smirking, I let my eyes trail down the length of her shamelessly, savoring every inch before admitting, “It would be impossible to stop.”

“Then I won’t take the job.”

“You’re taking the job,” I say.

She throws her hands in the air in exasperation. “Kieran, you can’t flirt with me!”

“And why not?”

“Because…because it would confuse Emmy.”

“Fine, I won’t flirt with you while she’s around.” Winking, I all but purr, “But all bets are off when she’s not there, Red.”

“Layla,” she snaps, correcting me once more.

Is it wrong that I love her flash of irritation every time I call her Red?

Probably.

I’ll stop eventually. I don’t want her to think it’s because of her, though. Truth be told, Red doesn’t suit her as a nickname. Doesn’t do her vibrant personality justice.

“That’s as far as you’ll get with me on the matter,” I call over my shoulder as I take the cart and head down the next aisle. Layla trails behind me, cursing and cussing me out under her breath.

Grabbing blankets and teddy bears because why the hell not, I throw them in the cart as I turn to her, stopping her mumblingin her tracks, literally. She crashes into my chest and I gently cup her arms, righting her before she falls on her ass.

I can tell she’s about to snap something at me, that feisty side that only comes out and plays with me, but before she can I say, “One of these days you’re going to admit just how much you love flirting with me.”