I waved him off. “It’s fine, Ian. I’m used to doing things on my own.”
It wasn’t like he’d be here forever anyway, and I’d need to be okay doing it all on my own. Yes, I enjoyed knowing he was here, but rarely did I ask for anything.
“How come?”
It was weird having to explain my past to someone. I’d been with Jake since college and hadn’t dated much before him, so he knew my past, and he knew the ins and outs of who I was. But Ian was a whole new beast.
“I don’t know. I guess growing up with just my father, who was so successful, drove me to want to be good enough for him. He taught me well but still sees the business world in an old-fashioned way, thinking men won’t take me seriously in the boardroom. So, I worked hard and did a lot of it alone to prove to him I was just as good as any man—that I was better.”
“Well, I’d much rather have you in our meetings over anyone else,” he said with a scan down to my chest and back again, waggling his eyebrows for good measure. “But I’ve also seen what you’re charging us and frankly, I think anyone else wouldn’t have driven such a hard bargain.”
He raised a brow at my proud smile. I did a damn good job negotiating their contract and brought in a hefty amount for Wellington and Russo. I sat up a little straighter with Ian’s confirmation.
“But I get it,” he said, kissing Audrey’s head again. “I did the same with my parents until I kind of just lived for me. Nothing I did seemed to keep their attention, so I said fuck it. In the end, nothing changed, except maybe I pissed them off more with my choices. I just cared less about their opinion of me.” He finally met my eyes and shrugged. “Kind of.”
“I get wanting to impress them, even if you don’t want to want to.”
We shared a rueful smile of commiseration about trying to prove ourselves to our parents.
“Your dad is proud of you,” he said, surprising me. “I can see the way he talks about you.”
“I know. He’s just protective of me, and it comes out like he doubts my ability.” I huffed a small laugh and shrugged, changing the subject. “When do your parents get back?”
“Next week,” Ian groaned.
“Maybe we can do dinner. They can meet Audrey.”
His face scrunched up. “Do we have to?”
“Yes. Now give me our baby. She needs to eat.”
Ian passed me Audrey, who had been stirring on his chest. She stared up with wide eyes, her mouth already open before I even had my shirt up. Ian didn’t stare uncomfortably, but he did watch. It wasn’t in a sexual way—more like he was fascinated by the sight of us together. Like he was in awe of it. So, I didn’t shy away because I was comfortable and frankly, if he was staying here as much as he was, then I just had to get used to whipping a boob out with him around. I sure as hell wasn’t going to hide under a cover in my own home.
“You’re good at this,” Ian complimented.
I sat tall and gave him a smirk. “I know.”
“So modest.”
“Wow,” I deadpanned. “Coming from you.”
“I’m the most modest man you’ll ever meet.”
“Oh, God,” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Lord, help us, Audrey.”
Ian sat back on the couch and just watching him lounge made me realize how little sleep I got, and I yawned.
“Why don’t you use that contraption thingy,” he said gesturing to my chest. “I can take her to work with me, and you can get some uninterrupted sleep.”
“The pump?”
“Yeah. It looks like a torture device for your poor breasts. I hate that you’d have to use it,” his scrunched face softened to a flirtatious smirk. “But whenever you do need to use it, I can always kiss them better. Give them a little TLC.”
Audrey grunted in displeasure when my chest shook with laughter. “You’re horrible,” I tried to admonish him, but really, color stained my cheeks at the thought, and my chest filled with happiness that he still found me attractive enough to even make sexual comments about. “Well, they were made to withstand the torture to feed her.”
“But later, when she’s done with them next year, they’re all mine, right?”
I didn’t answer and instead rolled my eyes. I did that a lot around him, but it usually came with a smile too.
Ian got up and headed to the bathroom to get ready for work, and I was left smiling, thinking about his words.
Later. Next year.
I didn’t want to dwell on him being around that long. We hadn’t even talked about next week. There was a part of me that still held him at arm’s length, fearful of relying on someone like I had with Jake—a part of me that still saw Ian as the playboy when we first met. But that part grew smaller each day, and the more time I spent around him, the more the thought of him being around filled me with excitement and had me repeating the words in my head.