Thanks to the long windows, he could still look at the street below. He rather liked Brooklyn, he thought. Stylistically it was a million miles from his luxurious but cold penthouse. There were trees and families and schools. It was all a little more real, a lot more normal.
“But normal isn’t me,” Jaeger said, watching a couple and their three young kids walking down the street. A golden Labrador, looking like he’d taken a hit of doggy crack, walked a young boy.
“I’m a vagabond, a drifter, someone who is perfectly happy with a designer apartment, with all the amenities of city living. God knows I deserve a little luxury after some of the hellholes I visit and sleep in.”
Ty pushed the ball away from him, Jaeger rolled it back and Ty shouted his approval. This was such a happy kid. Everything made him laugh.
Outside, the dog wrapped his leash around the legs of the kid, and the entire family laughed as they tried to separate the kid and the dog. Dad took control of the dog but not before he dropped a hot openmouthed kiss on Mom. Jaeger grinned when the boy made a “gross” face.
“But really, this house, this place, it’s for families, and I’m not a family guy,” Jaeger said, resting his head back against the cushion of the chair. He watched the street for a couple of minutes, enjoying the changing light. “I was going to be, but I never got the chance. I had my shot at having a happy family, and losing it nearly killed me. I’m not interested. No matter how sexy your mom is. No matter how much I like her, this is a one-shot deal. It’s not forever. So don’t think it is,” Jaeger warned Ty, dropping his head to the right to look at Piper’s son.
Except Ty wasn’t where he’d left him.
Jaeger’s heart stopped. He’d been watching Ty for what, ten minutes, and he’d already lost him? He shot to his feet, his heart pounding as his eyes scanned the den. His head told him the kid wasn’t that fast, but his heart went into panic mode. Jaeger looked at the front door—locked, thank God. Ty had to be somewhere in the apartment. Babies didn’t just vaporize! Then Jaeger caught the movement of a socked foot as it disappeared into the kitchen.
Gotcha. Jaeger put his hands on his thighs and took a few calming, deep breaths. Relax or you’ll give yourself a heart attack.
After a couple of moments, after his heart slowed from a gallop to a jog, Jaeger walked toward the kitchen and found Ty sitting in the mess on the floor—the mess he’d promised Piper he’d clean up. Ty’s little fingers went straight into the goop and up to his mouth. He sucked his digits and dove back in.
By the time Jaeger reached him, the baby had smeared the goop over his face, into his hair, down his clothing and around his neck. The kid had the ability to cause major mayhem in the shortest time possible. Jaeger rather admired that about him.
Jaeger stood in the doorway to the kitchen, pulled his phone from his back pocket and, keeping his eyes on the tiny troublemaker, lifted the phone to his ear.
“Linc? How do you bathe a baby?”
“With soap and water, moron.”
Eight
Piper stepped into the dark hallway of her apartment and sent a guilty glance at her watch. It was after midnight; she’d intended to be back home hours ago, but Latimore’s new work was spectacular and thought-provoking and mesmerizing. She’d spent far more time in the gallery than she’d planned on.
What an evening, Piper thought as she slipped off her shoes. At around ten, the very sexy sculptor finally emerged from a back room, walked directly over to Sage and, without greeting a single soul or saying a word, planted a smokin’ hot kiss on Sage’s mouth. Sage responded by slapping him, and they’d both stormed out of the gallery. Neither returned, much to the consternation of the gallery owner and his guests. Latimore and Sage were the only topic of conversation for the rest of the evening.
Piper, who’d immediately bonded with the quiet but wickedly funny Sage, was annoyed by the crowd’s fascination with something that had absolutely nothing to do with them. She’d blocked out the snippets of gossip drifting her way and immersed herself in Latimore’s art. The steel and carved wood elements remained but the sculptures weren’t as heavy, as masculine as before. There was fluidity in his work and an unexpected femininity that hadn’t been present in his earlier works.