Marry My Daddy

Molly.

I had no idea how much my life would change that day when Logan Baron—billionaire, CEO, absolute playboy—first walked into my classroom.

It happened at the end of the school day, which was also my favorite time of the day.

Not because I wanted to go home—I loved my job—but because it was when I got to see my students in their purest form.

Free from the structure of lessons and quiet whispers, my first-graders laughed, ran, and clung to their parents, eager to tell them about their day.

Spring was settling in, and the golden afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows of Primrose Academy. Primrose was one of the most prestigious private schools in New York, catering to the children of CEOs, actors, and politicians, but to me, it was simply where I spent my days doing what I loved—teaching.

I stood by my desk, tidying up worksheets while stealing glances at my students as they reunited with their families.

Ethan practically bounced on his toes as he waved his latest drawing in front of his mother's face, chattering a mile a minute about the spaceship he'd designed. A few feet away, Ava reached for her nanny's hand, still rambling about the caterpillars we had observed that morning, her excitement so contagious that I couldn't help but smile.

As I bent down to help Lucas zip up his jacket, he grinned up at me, his small hands still clumsy with the zipper. “I spelled 'adventure' today, Miss Brooks!” he beamed.

I ruffled his hair. “And you did it perfectly,” I said, watching as he ran off toward his waiting father, waving back at me before disappearing into the crowd.

These moments, the small ones filled with laughter and excitement, were what made my job so special. I let out a contented sigh, turning back to my desk—when I felt a small tug on my sleeve.

"Miss Brooks?"

I turned and immediately softened at the sight of Ruby Baron, her big hazel eyes peering up at me, expectant and bright despite the pale exhaustion lining her face.

Ruby was one of those students who got into your heart and built a home there. Sweet, eager to learn, always polite—a teacher's dream. But she was also the student who worried me the most.

She had been sick a lot this year. She'd miss days—sometimes weeks—of school, and when she returned, it would seem like nothing was wrong due to her bubbly nature. The other kids adored her, but I could tell they sensed something fragile about Ruby, something that made them hold back from roughhousing too much or teasing her the way six-year-olds typically teased their friends.

“Hey, sweetheart.” I crouched to her level, brushing a dark curl from her forehead. “What do you need?”

She hesitated, biting her lip like she was working up the courage to say something big. “Can my daddy come to the class today? So you can… So you can meet him?”

I blinked. “Your daddy?”

She nodded, gripping the hem of her uniform. “He's picking me up today. I told him all about you.”

Oh.

I should've expected that. A lot of parents liked to meet me at some point, especially the more involved ones. But from what I understood, Ruby's father was not involved. I had never met him, never even seen him at a school function.

It was always a driver, a nanny, or, once in a blue moon, an assistant who came to collect her. Her nannies were always at events, and even at our last Winter Fall Play, her ever-present nanny, Angela, was the one beaming with pride from the audience.

But no sign of any of her actual parents.

“I don't know, Ruby,” I said gently. “I don't want to keep your daddy waiting.” If he was actually picking her up today, I could only assume he wouldn't stay long.

“Please?” She reached for my hand, squeezing it tight. “I told him you're my favorite person.”

My heart twisted. How could I say no to that?

I sighed but offered her my smile of assurance. “Well, if I'm your favorite person, I guess I can't say no.”

“Yay!” Ruby's face lit up, and she wrapped her arms around my waist in a quick hug. “He's coming soon!”

I smiled as she darted to the window, bouncing on her toes with excitement. I shook my head, amused, and went back to sorting papers. I'd give it five minutes, say a polite hello, and then I'd be on my way.

As the minutes ticked by, the once-busy classroom slowly emptied.

One by one, my students disappeared through the door with their parents and stories, until it was just Ruby and me.

I glanced at the clock, my fingers absently stacking the last of the worksheets. Five minutes had stretched into ten, then fifteen. A small, uneasy pit formed in my stomach. It's not that I was in a rush to leave, but I was worried for Ruby. She had been so excited...

I glanced toward the window, watching Ruby press her tiny hands against the glass, leaving smudges that I didn't have the heart to remind her about. Her excitement was infectious, though a small part of me braced for disappointment.

What if he didn't show?

It had happened before—a late assistant or a nanny scrambling in with an apology, always too flustered to explain why Ruby's father wasn't there. My heart ached for her, not wanting to see that edge of sadness that would usually come on those days when she thought her father would pick her up, only for him not to.

But then, the sound of a car engine outside had Ruby squealing got my attention, as a sleek black town car glided into the parking lot, of which we had a perfect view from our class.

Quickly, I placed the rest of the papers in a binder and dropped them in the drawer. Ruby was the last child left to be picked up, so I would just go home after I finished here.

Ruby gasped. “That's him!”

A driver stepped out first, but I couldn't catch his features from this angle. My stomach twisted as anticipation thickened in the air.

I had pictured someone… different. A man in a sharp suit, maybe with graying hair and a Bluetooth earpiece permanently attached. A no-nonsense corporate type who barely glanced at the school before whisking Ruby away.

But when the door finally opened, the man who stepped out was something else entirely.

He was tall—remarkably so—with broad shoulders that filled the doorway. The crisp, dark suit he wore looked custom-made, fitted to his lean but undeniably powerful frame. His presence was magnetic, the kind of aura that demanded attention without even trying.

I barely registered Ruby bouncing on her toes, whispering, “That's my daddy.”

My heart pounded as I lifted my gaze toward the door just as it swung open, and my breath caught in my throat. I had expected her father to be a doctor or lawyer or company president like most of my students’ fathers.

But standing in the doorway, framed by the golden light of the setting sun, was a man I had only seen in magazines and on TV.

Logan Baron. Billionaire. CEO. Absolute playboy.

And he was looking right at me.

Molly.

I barely managed to stop my jaw from dropping. This man wasn't just famous—he was infamous.

There were entire sections of gossip blogs dedicated to his string of affairs, his ruthless business tactics, and his impossibly good looks.

And now, that impossibly good-looking, ridiculously wealthy man was standing in my classroom, his sharp green eyes fixed on me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.

My pulse kicked up a notch.

I swallowed hard, my brain scrambling for logic. I knew Ruby's last name was Baron, but I had never once connected the dots. I had assumed her father was some corporate hotshot, not this corporate hotshot.

“Daddy!” Ruby ran straight to him, her tiny arms wrapping around his legs. Logan's gaze finally shifted to her, and the hard edges of his expression softened—just a little. He smoothed his large, firm hand over the top of her head, the simple gesture surprisingly affectionate.

“Hey, princess,” he murmured. His voice, deep and smooth like a perfectly aged scotch, carried a warmth that caught me off guard.

But then, just as quickly as it had come, the warmth disappeared. His focus snapped back to me, and his gaze hardened again, assessing, unreadable.

For the first time in a long time, I was speechless. I had grown used to intimidating, powerful people at my time working in this school. I wasn't in their class, but I knew how to get around them. I knew how to show them the respect they craved, without giving them too much power to think they could control me.

But for the first time I felt like I was back in high school on the first day, trying to prove myself to the older kids so I wasn't picked on. I felt… appraised.

He was looking at me like he was about to eat me alive.

I had just agreed to meet him.

The air between us shifted with something I couldn't name. It wasn't attraction, at least, not entirely. It was curiosity. Suspicion. A silent, unspoken challenge.

“You're Ruby's teacher?” His voice was low and even, but there was something almost lazy about it, like he was already unimpressed.

“Yes. Molly Brooks,” I said, grateful that my tone didn't waver as I folded my hands in front of me.

His gaze flickered over me, taking me in from head to toe. It wasn't a leer, but it wasn't exactly friendly either. More like he was sizing me up, deciding whether I was worth his time.

“I see.”

That was it? No handshake? No polite introduction? Just I see?

I straightened, squaring my shoulders. “Ruby is a wonderful student.”

“I should hope so.” His tone was as cold as it was dismissive, and the irritation in my chest flared hotter.

So this was Logan Baron. Not just the billionaire, but the father. And he was exactly the kind of arrogant, emotionally detached workaholic I'd expected.

“Miss Brooks is my favorite,” Ruby announced proudly, breaking some of the tension. “She helps me when I don't feel good.”

Something flickered in Logan's eyes, something too fast to name as he stared down at Ruby, still clinging to his feet.

“Is that so?” he asked, and Ruy nodded eagerly, completely oblivious to the silent war brewing.

I folded my arms. “Your daughter is brilliant. You should be proud of her.”

His lips quirked at the edges, not quite a smile. “I am.”

For a split second, something about him softened. It was gone in an instant, but I caught it. And I hated that some ridiculous part of me found it intriguing.

Logan exhaled and turned to Ruby. “Why don't you go play for a bit, sweetheart? I need to talk to Miss Brooks.”

Ruby nodded enthusiastically and skipped off to the reading corner, leaving me alone with Logan.

As soon as she was out of earshot, he turned his full attention back to me, taking one step towards my desk. Then two. And it took ever willpower in me not to cower. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cower.

“You're young,” he said bluntly. “How long have you been teaching?”

I arched a brow. “I have a master's degree in education and have been teaching for four years.”

His gaze dropped briefly to my left hand. “No ring. I assume this isn't a long-term career plan for you?”

“Excuse me?” It took everything in me not to gape. The nerve of this—

“Primrose Academy is one of the most academically rigorous schools in the state. I'd expect a teacher here to be more… experienced.” He gave a small shrug, utterly unbothered by my irritation.

Oh, he did not just say that.

I inhaled sharply. “I assure you, Mr. Baron, my age has nothing to do with my capability as an educator. And my martial status does not indicate my intentions for working at this school particularly.” I knew exactly what he was implying and it made me sick.

Young, female unmarried teacher, working with the students of wealthy men—some divorced or single. It would be an insult for me to be that cliché.

I narrowed my eyes slightly—something never would have dreamed of doing with a parent. But this man was infuriating.

His mouth curved slightly at the corner, but it wasn't a smile. More like amusement at my reaction. “I suppose we'll see.”

My nails dug into my palms. Billionaire or not, this man is insufferable.

“Ruby is a bright, wonderful child, and I'm honored to be part of her learning journey,” I said, forcing myself to remain professional Logan crossed his arms over his chest, looking every bit the domineering businessman he was rumored to be. “She speaks highly of you.”

Something about the way he said it told me he wasn't used to that—his daughter forming attachments beyond her nannies.

I softened, just a little. “She's a special girl. She deserves to have people in her life who truly care about her.”

For some reason, it seemed as if I hit a nerve, and his expression darkened slightly.

“Unfortunately, my work schedule doesn't allow me as much time with her as I'd like,” he practically bit out, taking me by surprise. That hit me the wrong way.

“Then maybe you should adjust your schedule,” I countered before I could stop myself.

His eyes flashed with something sharp. “Excuse me?”

I lifted my chin. “Ruby adores you, Mr. Baron. She lights up at the mention of you. But she also spends a lot of time waiting. You're lucky she's as resilient as she is, but that doesn't mean she doesn't notice.”

“I'm a single father. Her mother—” He cut himself off abruptly, as if even saying her name was distasteful. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Her mother left. I do the best I can.”

I didn't mean to, but I scoffed. “I'm not surprised.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

I shrugged, forcing a neutral expression. “Nothing. Just that you don't seem like the easiest person to live with.”

His eyes narrowed. “My personal life is none of your concern.”

“Then neither is mine,” I shot back. “So maybe you shouldn't assume I'm just biding my time here until I'land a husband.’”

His lips pressed into a thin line, but before he could respond, a soft whimper came from across the room.

I turned just in time to see Ruby clutching her stomach, her little face crumpling.

“Ruby?” I rushed toward her just as she wobbled on her feet. Her hands trembled, and her lips had gone pale.

Logan was there in an instant, his cold demeanor vanishing as he swept her up into his arms. “What's wrong, princess?”

Ruby whimpered again, burying her face into his chest. “I don't feel good.”

Concern twisted in my stomach. “She's been complaining about aches this week,” I said. “She said they come and go.”

Logan's grip on his daughter tightened, his face unreadable, but I caught the clench of his jaw.

“Come on Ruby,” he mumbled as he lifted her, and she curled around him as if like instinct. “We're leaving.”

He turned toward the door without another word, his long strides eating up the distance. But just before he stepped out, he glanced back at me, his gaze hard. “This conversation isn't over.”

And just like that, he was gone.

I stood frozen in place, my heart still pounding.

So that was Logan Baron.

And he was, without a doubt, the most frustrating man I had ever met.