One Unforgettable Weekend. Andrea Laurence. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Andrea Laurence
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474076524
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the attention of every woman he passed. Tara would notice him for sure. And with that fiery red hair and those icy blue eyes, there was no way anyone would look at Aidan and not know exactly who he was.

      That wasn’t to say that Violet didn’t trust Tara. She loved her. Any doubts or concerns she’d had about hiring a nanny had gone out the window when Tara interviewed for the position. Violet had basically been raised by nannies. Her parents were always on the move, touring the world, securing business deals back in Greece and a dozen other countries. Their private jet had more miles on it than most jumbo airliners. But that meant that Violet had grown up alone with no one but her hired caretakers.

      They had all been lovely women. Not horribly strict or harsh, but they hadn’t been suitable replacements for her parents, either. When Knox came along, she knew she needed help doing this all on her own. She had a job and since it was a family business, she could take him in with her if she had to, but he really needed someone during the day. Tara had been the perfect someone. A helping hand, but not a substitute like her own had been.

      But the situation with Aidan was a precarious one. She wasn’t ready to trust anyone with it yet, even Tara. She hadn’t even told her best friends from college—Emma, Lucy and Harper—about Aidan’s arrival. That would come in time, she was sure, but on her own terms, not because of out-of-control gossip.

      Violet looked down at her son. He was chewing intently on his fist with slobber running down his arms. He might be clean, but her little monkey was never perfect for long. She walked over to the Pack ’n Play that was set up in her home office and grabbed a clean burp cloth to wipe away the drool. “We don’t want you drooling all over Daddy first thing, now, do we?”

      Knox just grinned, shoving his fist back into his mouth the moment she released it. The books said he was teething and any moment now, the first few would start to break through. She anticipated quite a few long nights with a cranky baby in her future.

      The phone rang. Violet eyed the number, knowing it should be the bellman calling about her guest. A “Mr. Murphy” was waiting for her in the lobby. She told them to send him up and tried to prepare herself for his arrival.

      It seemed to take ten minutes for the elevator to crawl the five stories to her apartment. She wasn’t in the penthouse, but she was fairly high up in the building with her apartment taking up the west side of the fifth and sixth floors. It gave her nice treetop views of Park Avenue. She’d had the apartment—a graduation present from her parents—since she’d graduated from Yale and moved back to Manhattan. It almost made up for the fact that they hadn’t been able to attend her commencement in New Haven. They’d been stuck in Istanbul. She wasn’t surprised. That had been their MO her whole life—lavish gifts in exchange for the emotional and physical distance between them.

      Soon, though, Violet wanted to make a change. The apartment was spacious when Violet was alone, but a little too small for her, Knox and Tara. Baby things seemed to fill every corner. She wanted more room and to be closer to a park where Knox could run around. Central Park was a little too chaotic for her to keep up with him there. She got a feeling that this little monkey would be on the move the minute he learned to walk.

      The doorbell rang. Violet took a deep breath to prepare herself. It should be easy. Today wasn’t about her. It was about Aidan and his son. But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be a heart-wrenching moment for everyone involved.

      Violet walked to the front door and opened it, stepping back far enough to allow Aidan a full view of her standing there with Knox in her arms. “Hello, Aidan. Come in.”

      She might as well not have spoken because the instant his eyes connected to his son, the whole world faded away for a moment. He didn’t move. He didn’t even appear to breathe. Aidan was frozen to the spot as he studied his child for the first time.

      Knox, however, was oblivious to their visitor. He’d become fascinated with the scalloped edge of Violet’s collar, pinching it between his clumsy, chubby fingers.

      She turned a bit so Aidan had a better view, then tugged Knox’s hand from her shirt. “Lennox, we have a visitor. Can you say hi?” He couldn’t, of course, but Aidan had finally caught his attention. Knox’s big eyes locked in on him and he grinned wide.

      “It’s amazing how much you two look alike,” Violet chattered nervously in the silence. “I bet in your baby pictures you couldn’t tell you two apart.”

      Aidan just shook his head, apparently ignoring everything but Knox. “A part of me didn’t really believe all this until now, but it’s true. He’s my son.”

      Violet winced and glanced over his shoulder into the hall beyond him. The neighbor she shared a vestibule with was incredibly nosey. “He is. Come in and you two can spend some quality bonding time together.”

      He finally took a few steps into the apartment, allowing Violet to shut the door. He studied the child in her arms like an exhibit at an art gallery, trying to absorb and process every detail from a distance.

      Violet looked down and noticed he had a gift bag in his hand. He’d need to put that down to hold Knox, which she was certain would come next if he could work up the nerve. He seemed both anxious and terrified about the prospect. “Why don’t you follow me into the living room where you can set your things down and get more comfortable?”

      She turned, and he followed her until the hall opened up to a large contemporary space filled with light from the nearly floor-to-ceiling windows along two sides of her corner unit. In the center of the room, she’d put a grouping of comfortable white couches, the only splash of color being some blue throw pillows in the mostly white and gray space.

      “Have you been around many babies before?” she asked. She wasn’t sure what his level of skill or comfort was with an infant. He could’ve raised his siblings or have another child she didn’t know about, unlike herself who had almost never even held a baby before Emma’s daughter, Georgette, arrived. For some reason, the thought of Aidan having another child made her jealous on Knox’s behalf.

      “No, not really,” he said at last. “I was an only child. I don’t have any kids of my own—I mean, I don’t have any other kids. He’s my first. Basically, I’m clueless.”

      Violet smiled. It seemed like a big admission for a man like him. She could tell that coming to the foundation for a grant had bothered him. His initial posture as he’d come through her office door had been defensive. He read like the kind of man who was used to being able to handle anything thrown his way without assistance from anyone. The fact that he’d come to her anyway because his project was important was something she appreciated. Knox was obviously important to him as well, or he likely wouldn’t have admitted his inexperience there, either.

      “You’ll do fine. I didn’t know much when I started either. He’s not a small and fragile newborn anymore, so you won’t have trouble. He’s a sturdy boy, at the top of his percentile of weight and height for his age.”

      At that, Aidan beamed with paternal pride. “I’ve always been pretty solid. I would’ve made a decent football player if I’d wanted to, but baseball was always my sport.” He held up the bag to show it to Violet before setting it on the coffee table. “That’s actually some Yankees outfits for him to wear and baby’s first baseball mitt. Now that I’m involved, I’ve got to make sure you’re raising him right.”

      Violet chuckled. “We’re not Mets fans in my family, so no worries there. The foundation actually has a box suite at the new Yankees stadium if you’d like to take him to a game.” She shifted Knox in her arms until he was facing out. “Here,” she said. “Why don’t you go ahead and hold him? You’ll get over your nerves faster that way.”

      She watched as all the muscles in his body tensed. Memories of touching each and every inch of them flashed through her mind as they flexed beneath his skin. She missed touching a man—the hard muscles, coarse hair and heated skin against her own. So different and yet so comforting. Now wasn’t the time to reminisce about what she’d lost. She pushed the thoughts aside and focused on easing their son into