He smiled. “You really think I’d make a good parent?”
“Tonight, you cared enough to get out of bed, and to stay. You didn’t have to do that. The moment you saw me, you could have left.”
Wayne leaned in close, and she held her breath. “Maybe I didn’t stay because of him.” His lips brushed against her cheek.
As fast as they were there, he pulled away, making her wonder if she’d imagined that close contact.
Chapter Five
Wayne scrolled through the internet as he looked through toys to buy for young boys. There was so much that he didn’t have the first clue what to pick. Action figures, stuff from recently released movies, cards, games, guns, little bricks, all kinds of stuff.
Timothy played with cars and trucks. He’d watched him doing it.
Tapping his pen on the desk, he began to put several items into the online shopping basket. The contract on his desk needed his undivided attention, but right now he couldn’t seem to stop. In fact, over the past couple of days since watching Temperance with the little boy, he’d found it harder and harder to pretend to forget about him.
He hadn’t.
There had been so many times where he’d been sitting in a meeting and he’d wondered if the boy was all right. If he’d cried that day, or if he was afraid.
I want to get home earlier.
Now that thought scared him more than anything else. He’d never gone home early on the job. He’d always worked eighteen-hour days, survived on little sleep, and rarely had time for a social life.
Within the past week and a half, he’d enjoyed more home-cooked food and looked forward to his few minutes with Temperance. In fact, during the day he’d even began to make a list of possible topics he could begin where she’d stick around longer for them to talk.
Pitiful.
Most women were happy for him to smile in their direction.
Temperance didn’t give anything away other than to smile his way. No flirtatious looks, nothing.
Frances stood at the doorway. “Have you signed the contract? I’ve got everything ready to get it sent off today.”
Wayne shook his head.
“Is there something wrong with it? You’ve had it on your desk for three hours.” She entered his office, notepad and pen already poised to make notes on revisions.
“I’ve not even taken a look at the contract.” He pointed at his screen and groaned, leaning back.
Frances frowned and moved closer. “Kids’ toys.”
“He’s not even mine, and already I can’t think straight.” For the first time in years, he began to chew on his thumbnail. He’d not done it since he’d sat for his exams when he was a boy and all he wanted to do was get the best grades, back when no one gave a fuck about him.
Timothy had no one right now.
No parents.
No uncle.
No aunt.
Just him and Temperance.
“Is Miss Michaels not doing her job properly?” Frances asked.
He shook his head. “She’s doing an amazing job. Honestly, anyone who got rid of her was a fucking idiot. She knows how to communicate with kids, and Timothy’s thriving with her. You know the first day she was hired, she took him out shopping. Made his entire room this adventure land. Got him new clothes and stuff. I never felt more like a monster in my life.”
“Like you said, he’s not yours.”
“But that wasn’t right for me to react the way I did, was it? Let’s face it, I was a complete and total asshole. He’s just a boy.”
Frances didn’t say anything, but he saw her trying not to laugh at him.
“You’ve got kids, haven’t you?”
“I did. I’ve got children, and grandchildren, and I hope one day that I will have great-grandchildren, and that I’ll at least live to see them. They’re … a lightness, Wayne. They really are.”
Wayne stared at his computer screen, thinking about what she’d just said.
“You know, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be with him, or wanting to care. He’s been placed in your hands to treasure.”
Wayne groaned. “What happens when they realize that I’m not his father?” He didn’t want to get attached to a boy that would be taken away from him. “They’ll take him, place him with someone else.”
“If there’s no one else they’ll put him in foster care.”
His gut tightened. The thought of that little boy being treated like a zoo animal, having people come and stare at him, giving him hope of a home. Would people care as much as Temperance even when he wet the bed?
Running a hand down his face, he wanted to glare at his PA. She’d not helped him once.
“I pay you to encourage me to work,” he said.
She chuckled. “In a way, I am. I thrive with having a family. They are my rock. They surround me with love and care, and sometimes, I see that all you do is work. I love it. I always have a job, and you give me the holidays to spend with my family. I wish you could see what having a family that loved you would do. They make you want to go home.”