Page 36 of Fighting Chance

She’s an angel at her core, and I’m nothing but the boy no one ever wanted.

Blowing out a breath to try and stabilize my barrage of thoughts, I help Emmy get into the bathtub, making giant mountains of bubbles and giving her the bath toys Layla and I bought.

“I’m screwed, Emmy,” I whisper. “Royally screwed.”

Emmy lifts her head, those soulful brown eyes piercing me to the spot.

How do I tell her that I’ve been slowly falling for her nanny? That her auntie Bella has been feeding me scraps and with every single one I collected I fell just a little further?

How the fuck do I stop having feelings for Layla? Would it make me a horrible parent if I didn’t?

Because I don’t think I can.

Chapter 8

Layla

LAYLA’S LIFE LIST

Have a water fight

I’m wearing Kieran Ashford’s clothes.

Correction.

Kieran Ashford’s clothes are wearingme.

His large six-foot-three frame swallows me up when he stands beside me. I practically get a kink in my neck every time he does it, too, but this is ridiculous. I’ve had to roll the sweatpantssixtimes, and they still keep falling down. Growling under my breath, I kick them off completely. “I’m just going to have to do without.”

The hoodie swims on me anyway, coming to rest just above my knees, and I only need to wear it until my jeans are dry. Thankfully, his washer and dryer are already hooked up.

Walking back to Emmy’s room, I steel my spine, preparing myself for his comments and flirty winks but stop short when I hear him making explosion sounds, followed by loud splashes. Emmy laughs hysterically, and before I know it, my lips aretugging up into a smile. I turn the corner, finding him playing with the fish toys I picked out.

The sight is more than adorable…until I realize he’s pretending to blow the fish up with bombs.

“Are men incapable of playing without blowing stuff up?”

Kieran’s already smiling as he turns to me, but the humor in his eyes suddenly vanishes. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as his gaze trails over my body ever so slowly, and I swear I can feel it along my skin like a phantom touch.

Emmy squeals as she throws a plastic fish into the water. It splashes over the tub and into Kieran’s lap.

That certainly snaps him out of it.

Shaking his head, he moves to grab the fish. “I do, actually. I tried to play mermaids with her but she wasn’t interested.”

“You tried to play mermaids?”

“I grew up in a foster home with lots of girls. I was forced to play mermaids more times than I can count.”

My heart pinches.

The more I learn of Kieran’s childhood the more I want to wrap him in a blanket and give him a hug for all the times he wasn’t given love.

With the tension now lining his shoulders, I move the subject along, taking a seat on the toilet lid. “Queen Emmy doesn’t like mermaids? But what about the mermaid princesses?”

She scrunches her nose at that, still keeping a firm press on her lips. She hasn’t uttered a word since telling me her name.

“Queen Emmy is going to turn into a fish herself if she doesn’t hop out soon,” Kieran declares. “Her hands and feet are pruning.”