“I’m fine. I really don’t mind. I thought you’d be asleep,” she said, sounding sleepy.
“I can’t sleep,” he snapped. “If I’m going to be up, anyway, I might as well take her.”
Grace looked at the baby in her arms. Megan’s eyes had come open and she stared solemnly at Grace. “She’s not asleep.”
“I wish I had her energy. I’ve always thought I needed little sleep, but she can outlast me,” he said, wishing Grace would hand over Megan and get the hell out of the room. He was going to have to fire Grace. He couldn’t go through this day after day and night after night.
“I hate to disturb her,” Grace said. “She’s awake but barely, and she’s content. I’ll rock her. You go to bed. If you can’t sleep, go drink some hot chocolate.”
He wanted to gnash his teeth. “I don’t need hot chocolate,” he said abruptly, and turned to leave the room. At the door he paused. “I’m going for a ride on my bike. You can reset the alarm if you want, but Napoleon is in the yard and he’s a good watchdog. We’ve got lights everywhere around the house, too.”
“We’ll be fine. I’ll reset the alarm if I put her down and go to bed.”
He did not want to think about Grace going to bed. Under his roof, in his house, only a small room away from his. Why the hell had he hired her?
He closed the door quietly, yanked on a T-shirt and boots and pocketed his keys. He walked through the house, turned off the alarm, stepped outside and locked the door behind him.
A shaggy dog came bounding up, and Wyatt scratched his ears. “Napoleon, you watch the house, y’hear? I’ll be back.”
The dog trotted at his heels until Wyatt stepped through the back gate. He closed and latched the gate and looked at the big dog, a cross between a collie and a German shepherd. “You’re on guard now.”
The dog wagged his tail and sat. Wyatt strode across the drive into the open garage to get his bike. In minutes he roared away, racing through the night and heading up the road.
Within two hours he was back, sleepy, grumpy and as on fire as he’d been when he left. Never in his life had a woman tied him in knots like this. And she wasn’t doing anything except just being there.
“Get a grip,” he told himself, striding toward the house and praying Megan and Grace were asleep. He would take a cold shower, have a slug of whiskey and hope he could get a few hours’ sleep. He was too aware that the sun would be coming over the horizon all too soon, and he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since he had inherited Megan.
He would fire Grace. For his peace of mind, she had to go. Every time he made that decision, he thought about being in the lurch again for a nanny and all the interviews he would have to do.
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