Vivian’s gaze locked onto Calvin, her eyes widening like a kid pressed up against a candy shop window.

“Well, look who’s back. Calvin, you haven’t lost an ounce of charm,” she sighed, sounding half awed, half overwhelmed.

Madeline turned, one brow lifting. “Careful, or Zachary will hear about the way you stare at other men.”

“Please. He’s home every day, holding that baby like it might float away. He doesn’t have time to worry about me,” Vivian replied, still visibly starstruck.

Ever since Zachary became a father, something in him had changed. He rarely left the Sinclair residence unless a hospital emergency demanded it.

Patient to a fault, he hovered near the nanny, correcting even the smallest mistake, terrified the baby might suffer in someone else’s arms.

Vivian, for her part, couldn’t have been happier. A responsible father meant she could finally breathe.