by Chant, Zoe
“Can I have one more hug?”
Shaun was undone, and he walked back in to gather Trevor into his arms and hold him tight.
“Now you have to go to sleep. For real,” he scolded, releasing the reluctant boy. He tucked a stuffy into his arms. “Good night.”
He shut the door behind him and waited there for the inevitable call to return. Would it be water this time? A trip to the potty? He stood there in anxious anticipation until he realized that it had been long enough there was a chance the boy was asleep.
Don’t get too excited, he told himself. Could be a false alarm.
He crept away from Trevor’s bedroom door like a thief in his own house, to what had been the guest bedroom. He hadn’t been able to stomach the idea of sleeping in Harriette’s bed, so this had been the best choice.
It also happened to look over into Andrea’s bedroom.
He looked down from the window to see that her porch light was off, which meant she was already home from work. A glance at the clock made Shaun grimace. It was so late that there was little chance that anything would happen that night; as he watched, the last light streaming from her downstairs windows flicked off.
Shaun waited, hand on the curtain, until Andrea’s silhouette danced into her bedroom, backlit by the hall light beyond until she flicked it off. There was a moment of darkness, then she bent to turn on the lamp by the bed, leaving the harsher overhead fixture off. Shaun caught her face in a moment of soft, warm illumination until she turned away from it.
He ought to stop watching. Or turn on his own light so that she knew he was there. Certainly he shouldn’t continue to stare through her window like some kind of creepy stalker.
But Shaun was frozen, watching helplessly as she reached behind her to untie her apron. She gave a little hitch to her hips and twirled the loose tie as she looked over her shoulder in his direction.
Shaun grinned to realize she knew he was there and settled back onto the bed. It groaned alarmingly, and he shot a worried look to the hallway. There were no sounds from Trevor’s shut door.
When he turned back, Andrea was unbuttoning her uniform, spending unnecessary time with each fastener before she slipped it off her shoulders and let it fall.
She was wearing lacy undergarments, to Shaun’s mixed regret. Clearly she had been hoping for an invitation over. Had she been lingering downstairs, waiting for Trevor to go to sleep, maybe for hours?
With a mischievous, sideways look, she bent over more than necessary to pull her socks and sensible shoes from her feet. The curve of her ass was an invitation, her legs a promise.
She stood up slowly from her task, gliding her own hands along the curves of her body. The memory of the feel of those contours under his hands made Shaun clench his fingers reflexively. He was demandingly hard, and could not quite resist reaching to rub at the bulge in his pants.
Maddeningly, she turned away to unclasp her bra, holding it away from her to drop it onto the floor very obviously, but denying him a look at her gorgeous breasts.
Then she was bending forward to slip her underwear off, her perfect ass giving just a glimpse of the treasure past it as she kicked the lacy confection off her foot.
Shaun growled out loud before he could stop himself, and his own touch through his pants seemed painfully inadequate.
She turned at last, giving him an eyeful of her inviting body... just before she leaned forward across the window seat, breasts jiggling, and swept the curtains closed across the window.
Shaun lay back on the bed, groaning in need, hand clenching over his hungry package.
He had never craved anyone like this in his life. The more that he tasted of her intoxicating skin, the more he wanted to devour it. Instead of finding satisfaction in their lovemaking, he was finding that it only made him want more of her.
He didn’t just want stolen moments of sex and tantalizing glimpses of a life he didn’t share — clothing or not.
He wanted to lay her down in a bed and make love to her for hours, not just steal a few moments of pleasure on the living room floor.
He wanted her. All of her.
So have her, his tiger growled in his ear. She is ours...
On cue, there was a needy cry from down the hall and the creak of a door.
“Daddy?”
His need washed away in a flood of more immediate concerns.
His desires could wait. But if Trevor didn’t get to sleep soon, tomorrow was going to be miserable for everyone.
He considered the duct tape again briefly, then went to tuck the boy in again.
Chapter 20
“Trevor is absolutely blooming,” Patricia said quietly near Andrea’s ear. “And it’s not hard to see why.”
It was one of those miraculous lulls in the preschool, where each student was raptly involved in their own project, or quietly helping their neighbor’s efforts, with no shrill cries for help or tears of frustration. Trevor was showing Clara how to hold her scissors and demonstrating his own shaky technique with enthusiasm.
Andrea could not help blushing. She had not told Patricia about their passionate encounter in the laundry room, nor the following night, on Shaun’s hideous couch. Every few nights in the weeks since then, she had found herself on his porch with some excuse, bringing by a replacement part and instructions for installing it, or answering some question about how to deal with some minor behavior of Trevor’s.
They never talked about themselves or their plans, keeping what little conversation they had to upkeep of Shaun’s old house or tricks for keeping up with an increasingly energetic five-year-old.
“His dad really loves him,” she said. Only after she heard the words out loud did she wonder if it didn’t sound wistful. “It’s great to see how well Trevor is responding,” she added firmly, hoping it sounded professional and not defensive.
She was glad, she reminded herself. Shaun was clearly right about not adding a romantic relationship to complicate what he was building with his son. Trevor was opening up to the other children, and starting to form bonds of friendship.
Who knew how adding a girlfriend to the mix would stunt that progress.
“So, what’s he like?” Patricia prodded.
Andrea shrugged. “He seems nice,” she said vaguely, wishing that a conflict would break out between students to draw her away from the uncomfortable topic.
Nice didn’t even really touch on what she thought of him. He was kind and gentle with Trevor, and smart, if hopelessly inept with home repair. Even if the sex weren’t amazing, she would have treasured those brief moments of conversation that they shared, and she liked him more with every word he spoke. It melted her heart every time that she saw him hugging Trevor goodbye or greeting him with an unabashed kiss on the head.
“What does he do for a living? How long is he staying?” Patricia managed to sound completely innocent, even with her sidelong look of pure mischief.
“I have no idea what he does,” Andrea said honestly. She ignored the question about how long he was staying; it hurt her chest to remember that they might still be leaving with the end of the semester.
“Hmm,” Patricia said thoughtfully. “We should ask Trevor.”
Andrea gave her a suspicious look. “Are you suggesting we pump a five-year-old for information?” she asked, grinning despite herself.
Patricia’s eyes were dancing. “Why else have a job like this?” she mimicked. “They’re so easy to bribe at this age. Cookies and pennies will unlock any vault they guard.”
Andrea laughed out loud, recognizing her own words from just a few months earlier when Patricia had first started seeing Clara’s father.
Then Aaron put his hand up. “Miss Patricia! Miss Andrea! I cut the handle off!” he cried, near tears.
Andrea made Patricia stay in her seat to rest her ankle and went to salvage the art project with tape.
Was there a scotch tape that would work on hearts, she wondered. Because if she continued this way, she wa
s undoubtedly going to need her own repairs.
Chapter 21
Shaun shifted uncomfortably and wondered if it would be too obvious if he rearranged the furniture in the living room so that a less painful chair could be used to spy on Andrea’s porch in the evening. He had figured out her work schedule within a few weeks, but was so desperate not to miss her that he spent extra agonizing time in the vantage point.
Maybe I should just buy a new chair, he thought.
But buying new furniture felt like a commitment to the house.
He could explain away the improvements to the wiring as a necessary safety upgrade; he didn’t want Trevor in a house that wasn’t up to snuff for any length of time. But a chair — especially one to surveil the neighbor like some kind of pathetic stalker — seemed like an admission he wasn’t ready to make.
He spent the days that Trevor was in preschool dividing his time between catching up on work items too critical to leave to underlings and trying to tame the yard.
Wiring and plumbing might be out of his experience, but he could run a lawn mower and manage the tools he found in the back shed, and he could convince himself that it was work necessary to sell the house. It didn’t take long to clip back the growth that had threatened to take over the swingset, and a fresh coat of paint made it look much less like a horror movie prop. The biggest challenge there had been keeping Trevor distracted from it long enough to let the paint dry.
Having a five-year-old underfoot was difficult in ways that Shaun had never anticipated, and rewarding to such a depth that he actively resented the years he had missed whenever he let himself think about it.
The sound of Andrea’s gate squeaking set his thoughts aside and had his heart racing in anticipation.
He made himself sit an extra count of ten before rising from the detested chair, not wanting to seem too eager, and went to the porch.
Andrea was already leaning on her porch rail. “I wrote you up that stuff I was telling you about wire gauge,” she said, holding a piece of paper but not offering to pass it across to him. “So you can check the other fuses, too.” Instead of leaning just a little bit further to hand it to him, she gave a little questioning hitch of her shoulder.
Shaun meant to stop their quiet, desperate evenings. His head knew he couldn’t just continue to string her along indefinitely, and Trevor seemed no closer to opening up to the idea of inviting her into their family than he had when Shaun first admitted that he liked Andrea.
He knew he ought to cool things off, before they got more knotted together than they already were. Before he hurt her any more than he knew he was going to.
But his tiger was breathing down his neck with need. Our mate, he reminded Shaun unnecessarily; she was frankly irresistible, and every night that Trevor was cooperative about bed Shaun spent watching their porches from the terrible chair agonizing over his willingness to take advantage of Andrea’s good heart and the sweet body she offered him without strings.
He was nodding before he remembered he shouldn’t be and Andrea vanished from the pool of light on her porch towards her front gate.
Maybe after tonight he’d break things off.
Then she was standing on his porch handing over a few folded sheets of printer paper and he knew he wouldn’t be able to. “Thanks,” he said sincerely. “I really like the instructions you’ve been writing up for me. You’re... a great writer.” Her instructions were all written out in clear, funny detail, complete with simple sketches.
When Shaun was missing her, he read them over and over again, like they were pages of love letters and not directions for home improvement.
Andrea ducked her head, and Shaun could see her blush in the faint light of their porch lights. “Thanks,” she said. “I’ve... always wanted to be a writer.”
“You should be,” Shaun said. “The way you put things is just perfect. Even I understood what is supposed to happen.”
“Even you!” Andrea teased. But she looked tremendously pleased and embarrassed.
“Why aren’t you?” Shaun pressed.
“Why aren’t I what?” Andrea looked confused. Did his presence have the same stupefying effect on her that she had on him?
“A writer? You’re really good at it.”
Andrea chewed on her lower lip. “I... I don’t know,” she admitted reluctantly. “I guess that I just have these ideas in my head that just seem better than what I end up writing down.”
“What kinds of things do you want to write?” Shaun asked.
It was odd, just chatting.
It felt like violation of their agreement, and like the indulgence of something even more satisfying.
“Fantasy,” Andrea admitted. “Big thick, epic fantasy novels like I used to read as a kid.”
“You make it sound so shameful,” Shaun teased her. “I was expecting you to say you wanted to write bodice-ripping erotica.”
Andrea’s laugh was rich and real, not a cultivated affectation. “Maybe I will, at that.”
It was the perfect opening. “If you’re looking to do some research...”
Andrea’s smile was as real as her laugh. “An offer I can’t refuse,” she purred, and Shaun was holding the door open for her without a second thought.
He was bending to kiss her, because he was utterly helpless not to, when he was drawn up short.
“Daaaaaadddddddy! I had a bad dreeeeeaaaaaammmmm!”
Trevor’s distress was a splash of cold water on Shaun’s desires and he and Andrea skittered apart, looking guilty.
“Miss... Miss... Andrea?” Trevor was standing at the top of the stairs looking down at the two of them. He was blinking in confusion... and completely naked.
“Hi, honey,” Andrea said with a big smile. “I was helping your dad with some wiring questions.”
Shaun held up his folded papers as if Trevor was a judge asking for evidence.
“Can you tuck me back in?” Trevor asked in a small, tired voice.
“Of course,” Shaun said. “Andrea was just going.”
“Not you!” Trevor cried, face crumpling. “I want Miss Andrea to tuck me in.”
The two grown-ups exchanged a complicated look, Andrea asking for permission and offering consolation for the slight, Shaun granting the permission and accepting Trevor’s undiplomatic preference.
“Of course, sweetie,” Andrea said at once.
All three of them walked up the carpeted stairs, but when Shaun went to help get Trevor back into his discarded pajamas, he was rudely pushed away. “Just Miss Andrea!” the boy insisted, wrapping his arms around the woman possessively.
Shaun might have protested, but his eyes fell on a pillow that had fallen to the floor beside Trevor’s bed. What at a glance had appeared to be a frayed seam was clearly not upon closer inspection.
The pillow had been slashed in several parallel lines.
As if by needle-sharp claws.
Chapter 22
Shaun darted out of the room with one of the pillows clutched against him, looking unexpectedly wild-eyed, and left Andrea alone with Trevor clinging to her.
“Tell me about your dream,” Andrea invited, rocking the boy in her arms.
“I was a monster,” Trevor said. “In a world of monsters, and... there were empty rooms. I couldn’t find something.”
“That sounds pretty scary,” Andrea said gently, smoothing his blond hair back from his forehead. “Did you get to do any fun monstery things like smash cars with your giant feet?”
Trevor giggled into her shoulder. “I was a little monster,” he said.
“Oh, a little monster,” Andrea said. “That could still be fun if you got to eat cookies. What else happened?”
He shook his head. “I don’t remember now.”
“That’s okay. That means it can’t scare you now,” Andrea suggested.
She started to let go of him and he clung harder. “I want you to babysit me again,” he said. “Daddy can go away and you can watch me, like you d
id when Mommy was here.”
“I liked babysitting,” Andrea agreed. “We always had a lot of fun, didn’t we. But aren’t you cold? Let’s get dressed in your PJ’s, silly naked boy.”
Trevor sighed and obediently let Andrea help him into his abandoned clothing.
In so many ways, it had been much easier with Harriette here. More nights than not, Trevor’s mother had appointments to show houses or talk business, and she’d been happy to throw a few dollars at Andrea to watch Trevor.
It wasn’t good pay, but Andrea felt amply rewarded by Trevor’s affection, and she had always found him to be a sweet and obedient boy, drinking up any attention she paid him like a thirsty plant. It wasn’t like she had other plans for her evenings.
And she’d never once had inappropriate ideas about Harriette.
She’d tried to like the woman, and though Andrea had never exactly succeeded in that attempt, their relationship had also never been complicated.
Not like her not-a-relationship with Shaun.
“That’s more like it,” she told Trevor encouragingly. “Now come get the biggest hug in the smallest world and I’ll cover you in blankets and chase out all the bad dreams.”
Almost staggering in exhaustion, Trevor slowly complied, and he was unconscious by the time Andrea quietly crept out of the room.
Downstairs, Shaun was pacing, and he looked badly disturbed.
“I’m... sorry,” he said haltingly.
“Oh, there’s nothing to worry about,” Andrea assured him.
Shaun frowned, and his jaw worked.
“It’s not weird that Trevor asked for me,” she added. “I’m the novelty. You don’t need to feel like he doesn’t love you or anything.” Did her voice catch a little, on the word love?
Shaun’s expression only grew darker.
Andrea cast about for something else that might be worrying him. “Is this because he was naked?” Andrea asked. “I assure you, that is completely normal. We had one little girl last year who stripped naked and went streaking through the parents right in the middle of our Halloween party, her mom chasing after her waving her costume around.”
