Perfect for You

anything, it was the value of family.
    "Speaking of Abby—"
    Greg groaned, finally understanding why his friend was calling on a Friday night: desperation. "Don't tell me you need a babysitter."
    "Okay."
    Grinning, he shook off his coat while he waited out the silence. He loved spending time with his goddaughter. Babysitting her wasn't a hardship in the least. But he also loved yanking Don's chain and making him sweat. Any moment now, he'd break down and beg.
    Don didn't disappoint him. "Come on, man. It's just for an evening. Melinda and I have an event to go to."
    "What sort of event?" he asked, tugging off his tie and draping it over a chair.
    "The sort of event where I get a ritzy hotel room and spend some private time with my wife without a three year old trying to climb between us."
    "What happened to your babysitter?"
    "Uh... She quit. Abby was a little willful the last time."
    Greg laughed. It was amazing how one little girl could control adults so easily.
    "And she wants to see her Uncle Greg. You don't want to disappoint her, do you?"
    "Low blow, Willis."
    "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."
    "When are you and Melinda going out?"
    There was a triumphant whoop. "I knew you'd do it."
    Greg shook his head as he unbuttoned his shirt. An idiot would know he'd do anything for Abby, and Don wasn't an idiot.
    "Saturday night. Be here by seven o'clock. Oh, and Abby requests a surprise."
    Abby adored surprises almost as much as he liked giving them to her. "What if I have a date?"
    Don snorted. "Of course you have a date. Cancel it. Tell her you have to babysit your goddaughter. You'll score major points."
    "Melinda wouldn't like it if I used Abby to attract women."
    "No kidding. That's why I said it while my wife was out of the room. See you Saturday."
    Grinning as he hung up, Greg took off his pants and pulled on a pair pajamas bottoms. He pictured what Freya had on and his grin grew.
    When she collided into him and his hands came in contact with her body encased in that silk robe... He'd never felt anything so decadent. So right. The glimpses of flesh wrapped in black lace peeking from the robe had just about slayed him. Thank God he'd had his suit coat buttoned or she would have seen just how interested he was in her.
    She may deny it, but she was just as interested.
    He'd seen the flash of desire in her eyes when he'd touched her skin. But for some reason she insisted she hated him, strong as their attraction was.
    If only he could figure out what happened to turn her from warm to antagonistic in the blink of an eye. One minute they'd been cuddled on the couch, waiting for their pizza to be delivered, and the next she was upset and hated him.
    At least she was jealous of his supposed girlfriend. It gave him hope. He chuckled as he hung up the suit in his closet. He wondered what she'd say if she knew that he hasn't been out on a date in longer than he cared to remember. His supposed girlfriend was just Jade.
    He'd known Jade since they were toddlers. Funny how remembering how someone looked in a wet, saggy diaper could kill any inkling of attraction. They were more brother and sister than anything. He'd almost told Freya that but maybe her jealousy would help his cause. Her sister certainly seemed to like him—that couldn't hurt either.
    His feet bare on the cool hardwood floors, he headed for the kitchen to make some dinner. His big plans for the night: retreating to the solarium at the back of the flat to decompress.
    Opening the refrigerator, he took out sandwich ingredients, lined them up on the counter, and put together a triple-decker that most people could only dream about. It was pretty much all he could make as far as cooking went. Though Abby was fond of his peanut butter and banana too.
    The phone rang again as he transferred his sandwich to a plate. He grabbed the cordless off the counter and answered it as he pulled a beer out of the fridge. "Hello?"
    "I need your advice," Jade said sounding panicked.
    "This should be good."
    "Shut up and listen, because this is important. You know that asshole lawyer I lost the Patterson case to?"
    "The bottom-feeding scum-sucker?" He lifted the beer bottle to his lips.
    "Yes. We're going on a date tonight—"
    Greg spewed his mouthful of beer all over the counter. "What? Didn't you say he played dirty to win that case and that he was Satan in a pinstripe suit?"
    "Yes, but I like playing dirty. Pay attention to the real problem here, Greg. I don't know what