Paige chuckled and shoved the paper in her bag resting on the floor. “I’ll get right on that, boss.”
“Bailey’s up,” Jeannine said, the pen on a fresh piece of paper. “Should I even list Gage or is that a given?”
“No,” I said, raising my hands in defense. “If I have to have a list, then figuring out what the hell I want would be number one. It’s pointless.”
She tilted her head at me. “You know what you want.”
“No, I don’t.” I pointed at the two of them. “You two do. You’ve got it all figured out. Paige is going to take her father’s company to the next level and you’re going to earn another Michelin star in the next year…me? I…” I didn’t have a fucking clue. “I have a Masters in Philosophy, and I love my art and sure, I’d love to run a gallery someday, but…”
“You’re a Mom,” Paige said.
I scrunched my eyebrows. “No, I love Lettie, but I’ll never be her mother.” The reality of that fact stung more than it should and I rubbed at the spot on my chest like I could soothe it. Maybe the liquor was making me overly emotional as well as daringly adventurous.
Paige shook her head. “No, I meant you’re a Mom. You’ve always wanted a boatload of kids. You’re a brilliant artist—we’ve both told you that—and you know I’m willing to buy pieces for any of my charity events, but you know what you want, Bailey.”
She was right. It was something I wanted. A houseful of kids, a full, busy life where I taught them how to ride bikes, paint, and to share. Where I had a partner who would love the chaotic household just as much as me, and make a point to keep our bedroom life as equally hopping.
Gage’s face flashed behind my eyes. I had no doubt he could keep up with and exceed my expectations on any list I ever created if I chose to do so.
“All right,” Jeannine said, scribbling on the blank piece of paper and tearing it off.
I took it from her outstretched hand and read it.
Bailey’s List.
1) Find a gallery, take it over and run it
2) Find a good man, screw him, and have lots of babies
I chuckled and gulped another mouthful of the sour-salty mixture.
“You’ll make a great one someday, you know that?” Jeannine asked. “The way you are with Lettie…well, it’s enough to make me want kids.”
Paige and I both raised our eyebrows at her, shocked those words came out of her mouth
“Almost,” she quickly added.
“What about your list?” I asked.
“Girl, you know I’ve already got one. Several actually. I’ve worked on them for a couple years now.”
Paige straightened. “Can we see?”
“I don’t carry them around with me.” Jeannine chuckled and shifted in her seat. “And it has things on it I’m sure neither of you would agree with or be down for, the sissies that you are.”
I dropped my hand in mock shock at her playful jab. “We can’t all be as daring as you.”
“Such is life,” she said and winked at us.
“Now, about introducing Paige to Rory…”
“Oh please, no. I’m not properly prepared to meet him.” Paige smoothed out her immaculate white blouse, having come over straight from the office.
I snorted, glancing down at my purple yoga pants and black t-shirt combo. I’d worn even scrubbier clothes around Gage too and never batted an eye. He’d known me when I went through the phase where I sported overalls and a side-pony-tail every day.
“Come on,” I said, standing up and opening my bedroom door. “I should probably check and make sure they have plenty of food still anyway.”
Jeannine wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “For someone who isn’t married, you sure act like one hell of a wife.”
I swallowed hard, convincing myself I was simply great at my job. Sure, I wasn’t Gage’s maid—not that I hadn’t thought about buying a little sexy outfit and making his morning eggs in it just to see if he’d cross the line I desperately wanted him to—but it didn’t mean I couldn’t make sure his life functioned as easy as it possibly could while I was here. Being a single parent was hard enough, add to it his NHL status, and the bad-boy-trio he was apart of that the paparazzi loved to snap shots of at the clubs? It was a recipe for stress upon stress. Anything I could do to relieve that was well worth it. Lettie deserved him at his best…and maybe I just liked being the one to take care of him.
A red-hot image of just how well I could relieve his stress—one with him lying back on the bed and me on my knees below him, exploring him with my mouth in ways I only ever thought about in the cold sheets at night—flashed behind my eyes. I tilted slightly while walking, making a mental note to chug some water to take the edge off this buzz. Lettie would be up at six a.m. tomorrow and I didn’t want to be tempted to murder Jeannine for the hangover that was almost surely promised.
Hangovers and early morning cartoons didn’t mix.
Jeannine tugged Paige down the hallway and up the stairs, only managing to get her into the kitchen where she took up a firm seat at the island and refused to go any farther.
“I’ll wait while you check the snack levels, thank you very much,” Paige said, jutting her chin out. There was no arguing with her, the woman turned billionaires into weeping puddles when they tried to force a deal on her she didn’t want. Jeannine and I didn’t stand a chance.
“Suit yourself,” I said and lowered my voice while Jeannine checked out the fridge. “But you know she’ll never let that list go. She’s like a dog with a bone.”
“I can hear you,” Jeannine said, riffling through our produce drawer.
“A very pretty and talented dog!” I yelled and padded barefoot across the marble floor, taking a sharp right down the hallway that lead to Gage’s game room…
And ran straight into his hard chest.
The momentum nearly threw me back on my ass, but he quickly steadied me with two strong hands on my hips.
“I was just coming to check on you,” I said, slightly breathless, like the physical contact sucked the air right out of my lungs. Why couldn’t I breathe when his hands were on me?
“Funny,” he said, releasing me. “I was about to do the same.”