by Penny Reid
Ellie narrowed her eyes. “Will you save my castle from super-viw—super…bad people?”
Brantley fought a smile.
“Only if you have candy.”
“Okay. I have candy.”
“Shake hands,” Brantley ordered. “Then it’s the law.”
I raised my eyebrows. The law? Wasn’t that slightly extreme?
Their little hands met in the middle and they shook three times.
“Do they ever not fight?” I asked when he rejoined me.
He opened his mouth to answer, then paused, looking from the twins to me, clearly considering his answer. “I don’t know…It’s been a long time since we had a day without fighting. They’re so similar, I don’t think they know how not to disagree.”
That made sense. “Well, I have to admit that’s the strangest argument I’ve ever been privy to.”
He dipped his head as he picked up his scraper and laughed quietly. “Don’t put your expectations so low. There’s every chance you’ll hear something way weirder than that before you’re done here.”
“Really?”
He looked me dead in the eye and said, “Last night, after bathtime, we had an argument over who has the best genitals.”
I blinked at him. “The best…genitals,” I echoed.
What the hell?
“Eli insisted it was his because he can play with it. I told him we’d revisit this conversation in ten years.”
I snorted, quickly clapping my hand over my mouth to disguise the dreadful noise.
Brantley had caught it, though, and he flashed me a quick smirk, his turquoise eyes shining with mirth. Then, he turned away, back to the wall he’d been working on.
My stomach flipped completely inappropriately at the brief eye contact we’d had then.
I swallowed had and focused back on my work.
The sooner this room was done, the sooner I got my space back.
Hours later, all the paper was off, and the first coat of base paint was on Ellie’s room. An obnoxious shade of green had been the paint beneath the paper—yellow and red in Eli’s room—and it was going to take several coats of white just to cover it up.
I hadn’t been anticipating that. And that little detail had screwed with my plan, because I needed at least one more day to get that done, which pushed back my timeline by probably two or three. There wasn’t a chance in hell I was putting that floor in until the walls were done, done, done.
I yawned as I dumped my stuff in the back of my truck. I’d left the paint and roller after cleaning it in the bathroom, because I knew that would be my day tomorrow: painting and more painting.
What I needed right now was a hot shower. My shoulders killed from all the scraping and holding my arms above my head, and my neck was aching from it, too.
And a nap. God, I needed a nap. Or three…or four…
The most terrifying thing about this was the fact I kept wondering…Would I have to battle the kids all the time? Or did Brantley hear my silent questions to keep them away? Soon enough, I’d be doing more work and bringing other people in to fit the floors and do the electrics. I had my friend, Eric, coming in on Wednesday to look over the electrics of their rooms.
With any luck, he’d keep them out of the way.
I had a burning question: What the hell was he doing here, in Rock Bay?
I knew his wife died, but was that enough of a reason to move here? Colorado to California wasn’t exactly the other side of the country, but it was far enough from his family, whom I presumed still lived in Denver.
I had no place wondering it. It was none of my business, but I had a big issue when it came to what was my business and what wasn’t. More to the point: I didn’t care. I was like a dog with a bone when there was information to be had, and I blamed that on living in such a small town.
I always knew everything about everybody, so when I was faced with a situation where I didn’t…I didn’t like it much.
In fact, I was kinda twitchy about it.
Brush it off, I told myself. Forget about it. It really, really was none of my business.
I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel as I pulled into my driveway. I pushed the stick into neutral and killed the engine with a twist of the key. The echo of my keyrings as they jingled through the cab of the truck, and I sighed, sitting back in my seat.
After staring at the side of my house for a moment, I pulled my cell out of my pocket and texted Jayda.
Me: Are you at work?
Jayda: About to start. Got 5. What’s up?
Me: Tell me that Hot Dad’s reasons for moving here are none of my business.
Jayda: Hot Dad’s reasons for moving here are none of your business
Me: THANK YOU
Jayda: But they are my business
Me: I take it back
Jayda: Why did Hot Dad move here?
Me: Idk. That’s the point
Jayda: Find out
Me: You’re supposed to be making sure I DON’T
Jayda: It’s Hot Dad or Mr. Kinky Sub’s
Me: Don’t even
Jayda: I know your MatchPlus password
Me: You’re a bitch
Jayda: *devil emojis*
Ugh.
I locked my phone, refusing to reply, and hopped out of my truck. This wasn’t what I signed up. Had Jayda even seen him, or was she operating solely on the Rock Bay Gossip Vine?
Wait—no. I knew the answer to that. She’d probably been grocery shopping an hour after him and now she was a fucking expert in the Hot Dad.
Damn my life, I needed to stop calling him that. It wasn’t going to help the awkwardness I felt around him.
I didn’t know a hot guy that wasn’t my friend. And I absolutely had no time in my life for someone with children.
Hadn’t I just turned down a guy on the dating site because he had a kid?
Yes. Yes, I had. I was shallow and selfish, and I was okay with that. I didn’t picture my life with kids in it. I was the person who, when asked, “When are you having kids?” said, “Never. I don’t want them.”
At least, not right now. Maybe that would change in the future, but right now, in the place I was in my life, I was happy with my choice. Jayda was desperate to meet Mr. Right and settle down, but all I wanted was Mr. Oh-Right-There unless he didn’t want kids either.
I was weird, and I was okay with that. At least according to everyone in Rock Bay I was weird.
But I was a handywoman, so I was automatically weird in their eyes.
I let myself into my house, dumped my keys on the side table, watching lamely as they slid over the back of the table and onto the floor with a clink.
“Whatever,” I muttered to myself, leaving them there until I had to lock the door later.
This was Rock Bay. The closest thing to robbery that had ever happened here was when Mr. Jenkins forgot his pants—outer and under—and ran down the middle of Main Street with his manhood swinging side to side.
What was stolen?
My eyesight. Albeit briefly.
Actually, now I though about it, I didn’t think I’d been able to look him in the eye for two years.
Maybe that was for the best.
I pulled water from my fridge and stared at the bottle before opening it. I was too tired to even do that. The work had been more rigorous, mostly thanks to the twins’ major fail at getting any paper at all off the walls and Brantley having to finally leave me alone to get it done.
Brantley.
Turquoise eyes flashed in my mind.
I shook off the thought and swigged the ice-cold water. By the time I swallowed it, the memory of his eyes had disappeared, and I made the executive decision in the Life of Kali to order pizza from the local pizza place.
Ten minutes later, I was on my sofa in yoga pants. Discarding the water for wine—I’d give Jesus a run for his money if I didn’t have to use my fridge to change it—I put my achy feet on my coffee table and leaned right back a
gainst the back cushions.
With Friends season five on my TV, I set my phone on my lap and tapped the dating site’s app.
That was my first mistake.
My second was reading my messages.
The first was okay—cringey, but not bad, as far as it went.
The second?
“Hot, horny cuckold for you and your dom partner. Will let you chain me to your floor while he fucks you and pretends I’m your boyfriend.”
I hit delete before my face had wrinkled in disgust.
Yep.
That was enough MatchPlus for tonight.
Maybe my entire week.
Chapter 6
Two days passed without me seeing either Brantley or the twins. By the time Thursday lunchtime rolled around, I’d finished the base coat on Ellie’s room and was about to start the final two coats in Eli’s room. Eric was in Ellie’s room measuring her floor and weighing up what he needed to do to fix it up.
“Kali?” He poked his head in Eli’s room, his dark-blond hair swishing in front of his eyes. “I have a lunch meeting. Do you mind if I come back when I’m done?”
I put down the paint can and looked at him with a smile. “That’s fine. You’re working on your time, not mine.” I winked at him. “I’d just like Eli’s floor done so I know when I need to finish painting.”
He held his hands up. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got you covered. It doesn’t take me half as long as it takes you to figure out some flooring.”
“Do I look like flooring is my expertise?”
“No.” He grinned lopsidedly. “Plenty of other things, though…”
I threw my cleaning rag at him. He caught it with one swift movement and tossed it back to me.
“Don’t make me tell my daddy on you,” I warned him.
“Your daddy would marry you off to me in a heartbeat.”
“As long as you could abstain for six months without sex with other random women.”
He paused. “Point well made. See you in ninety minutes?”
Ha.
I rolled my eyes. “See you then, Eric. Come alone, won’t you?”
“I can’t promise I’ll come alone, but I’ll sure show up alone.” He tossed me a wink before he headed out of the door.
So much for that business meeting.
I shook my head and dipped the paintbrush in the paint and began the arduous task of edging around the base boards between the wall and floor. It was the worst job, and not one I could screw up even now. I had to paint the base boards eventually, and cleaning them up was no joke. The less paint I could get on them now, the better.
I’d barely touched brush to wall when I heard the sound of the door opening and muffled voices downstairs. Since Eric hadn’t left yet, it had to be Eric and Brantley.
Crap. I hoped Brantley didn’t mind I’d had him here without telling him. In fairness, he was happy to let me get on with it. And by get on with it I meant navigate boxes until I reached the twins’ rooms.
I made myself focus on the edging above the base boards before the door shut again. Silence reigned for a few moments before footsteps sounded on the stairs. It was suspiciously quiet for the middle of the day.
Where was the squabbling of the kids? Why weren’t they yelling at each other? That was their M.O., after all.
“Hey,” Brantley’s voice came from the doorway. “How are you doing?”
I shifted from my knees to my ass and looked over at him. Damn it, he looked good in a white polo shirt and light, ripped jeans. “Hey—good. You?”
“Good.” He paused, pursing those full lips of his. “Shit, it’s quiet.”
“That was my next question,” I said teasingly. “Did you leave them in the candy aisle at Irma’s store?”
He laughed, a deep, rich sound that sent goosebumps up my bare legs. “No. I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate that.”
“I don’t know. It’d give Mr. Pickles something else to chase than customers’ ankles.”
“Mr—oh, that cat.”
“Ah, you’ve met the town’s resident sweetheart.”
Another laugh. “Fortunately, I was wearing jeans. Protected myself well.”
“Smart,” I agreed. “Where are the twins, if not terrorizing Mr. Pickles?”
“Trial afternoon at daycare,” he said slowly. “No preschool in Rock Bay apparently.”
I shook my head. “Nothing until Kindergarten. Not enough kids in the area. Are they at Summer’s?”
“How do you—never mind. Small town.” His lips quirked. “Would you believe she knew everything about me before I’d even walked through the door?”
I dragged my lower lip between my teeth, grinning.
His eyes flickered down.
I think.
Damn, I’d been looking at plain walls for too long.
“Absolutely. Half the town probably know your security number and birth weight by now.”
His eyes widened, making the turquoise hue of his irises seem ten times brighter. “Seriously?”
The shock that saddled his expression made me giggle. “No. I’m messing with you. But don’t put it past Irma…Or Marcie at the Coastal.”
He relaxed, shoulders slumping, but he laughed lightly at the mention of Marcie. “Ah, yes. We just met for the first time. I saw she did take-out lunch on my way out of Summer’s place, and stopped in.”
“My condolences,” I offered. “It’s always stressful to meet Marcie for the first time. So I hear. And see when she deals with people’s unruly dates.”
“Unruly dates?” He quirked a dark eyebrow. “Experience with that?”
I held up a hand and fluttered my eyes shut. “Don’t. Just, don’t.”
He laughed. “Story for another time, right?”
“Sure, if by ‘another time’ you mean never.”
A lopsided, half-grin took over his face, making his eyes sparkle. “She heard you’re working for me—but you’re not surprised at that, are you?”
“About as surprised as if you told me the temperature outside feels like we’re halfway up Satan’s ass.”
That grin turned into another bout of laughter. Goosebumps tripled in quantity at the sound as they took over my arms. God, I wouldn’t look colder if I were naked in the Arctic.
“Well, she gave me twice the amount of food she should have, and ordered me to make sure you were well fed. Apparently, she’s able to make me wish I was never born if I don’t.”
“She’s feisty.”
“No kidding. Thanks for the warning.”
“Write me a list of the places you need to go next and I’ll give you the rundown.” I grinned.
“I’ll make sure I do.” He folded his arms across his chest. “So, I have lunch for you downstairs. It beats eating alone. Care to join me?”
I glanced over him quickly.
I’d had worse offers—and dates, lately. Not that this was a date. No, this was Mar—
Shit the bed. She knew what she was doing here.
I was going to kick her ass next time I saw her.
Just not too hard. ‘Cause, you know. She saved my ass more times than she needed hers kicked.
“Let me finish up this edging, then I’ll meet you downstairs,” I said. “Is that okay?”
He nodded. “She said it’s your favorite.”
“Oh my god, she made her pasta?”
“I asked her what was the best, and she said the pasta you love.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Is it unprofessional if I say screw it, I’ll finish this after pasta?”
A smile crept back onto his face. “I won’t tell if you don’t. Take it as my apology for my kids terrorizing you at the start of the week.”
“I wouldn’t say they terrorized me,” I said slowly, laying my brush on the side of the roller tray. I set the lid on the paint can and pushed it in just enough I’d be able to pop it off again without trouble.
“You’re too nice.” His eyes twinkled. “You can say i
t how it is—I won’t be offended. Fuck knows they terrorize me at seven a.m. every day.”
“I’m maintaining my stance,” I replied, trying not to meet his eyes, because I knew I’d get butterflies if I did.
There was something about the way his damn eyes sparkled.
“It’s best if I finish this edging.” I picked the brush back up. “I’ll be down in a few minutes. I don’t have much left on this wall.”
He glanced at the wall and where I was sitting. “Sounds good. I have some work to handle—I’ll keep it warm.”
“You don’t have to wait for me.”
“Kali,” he said, smirking. “By the time I get stuck into my email, you’ll the one waiting.”
“Wow. You know how to charm a lady.”
He laughed. “Come down when you’re ready.” He turned away, giving me another view of that tight ass of his.
I sighed, turning back to the wall.
Damn, that ass.
Twenty minutes later, I made my way downstairs.
Brantley sat at the kitchen table, his phone wedged between his ear and his shoulder, typing at his computer. “Yes, well I can’t deal with this currently. I haven’t yet been to the office here… I still have a week…I understand that, but—” He glanced at me. “Yes, sir. Understood. Can we continue this? I have a private appointment right now… Yes. Goodbye.”
He pulled the phone from its perch, tapped the screen and placed it face-down on the table. Offering me a tight smile, he closed the laptop and pointed to the microwave. “Sixty seconds and it’ll be perfect.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Did I interrupt an important call?”
His nostrils flared as he inhaled, but he shook his head. “My boss trying to get me back to work at my new office before I’m able to. The office managed before me, they can wait a few more days until I can get there.”
“The twins?” I asked softly.
He hit the button on the microwave. The light came on with the whirr of the machine, revealing two of Marcie’s pots of pasta. “Yep. I tried to source a nanny around here before I moved, but that was surprisingly difficult.”
“Yeah, there isn’t a lot here.” I slid into a seat at the table.
