Start Me Up

by Nicole Michaels

  Claire imitated rocking a baby in her arms. It just kept getting better and better.

  But Claire was right, watching Mike with her daughter had been … strange. Strange but amazing in a way she needed to forget since she had been using him as a boy toy just hours before that. Wasn’t that what they’d been doing … casually fooling around? She’d just decided in his car that he would probably be done with her after their night together, but the way he’d handled Claire had made everything so confusing.

  Mike hadn’t come with her up to Scott’s door, saying it would be awkward, which was true. But once they arrived back at Anne’s, he’d insisted on carrying Claire in, tucking her into bed, and when Anne had come up with a dose of Tylenol and a cool cloth, she’d overheard him singing “Itsy Bitsy Spider.” She stood in the hallway like an idiot, listening to this large, unpredictable man caring for her sick daughter. Then he’d given Anne a chaste kiss good-bye and left. Claire was right about one other thing: He was much, much bigger than Daddy.

  “Well, my goodness, young lady. You’ve had quite a weekend. I sure would like to meet this big muscly Mike. Think he’d sing for me?” Marie asked with a wink.

  “Grandma Ree,” Claire grinned. “You’re silly. Mike is Bailey’s uncle. He came to my birthday party, too.”

  “Okay then,” Anne said as she stood and started to collect dirty plates. “I’m ready for carrot cake, anybody else?”

  “Meeeee,” Claire shrilled.

  “Oh me, too,” Marie said. “I’ll cut Claire and me a big piece—you’ll be too busy talking.”

  Anne blew out a breath and carried the dinner plates into the sink. If she was smart she’d spend a lot of time rinsing and loading them into the dishwasher. Thanks to her daughter who had obviously inherited her mother’s trait of the verbal vomit, she had a lot of explaining to do. But truthfully, she wanted to talk to her mother. She didn’t know what to think about this thing with Mike, and she needed some maternal advice, which Marie was brilliant with.

  Obviously she would leave out some of the more explicit details, but she needed to think out loud and let her mom help her figure a few things out. She liked Mike. She wanted him, but a couple of things had thrown her off balance so far. And then for the thirty millionth time in her life, Anne thanked heaven that she had Marie, the best mother she had ever been gifted with.

  Eleven

  Tuesday morning Mike sat down at his desk and booted up his computer. Checking the My Perfect Little Life blog each day had become a habit. Either Anne, Callie, or the third chick Lindsey posted daily, sometimes twice a day. He wasn’t interested in most of the content as he didn’t bake and wasn’t interested in picking up garbage from someone’s curb to paint, but he liked seeing this side of Anne.

  He always skimmed through the first few comments, smiling at how much people loved Anne and how they asked about Claire, whom Anne referred to as Bug on the blog. These strangers were deeply invested in Anne’s life; it was kind of crazy, but he understood. She was funny and smart, sharing just enough personal info to make her relatable without giving too much away. She had this amazing way of being a little bit self-deprecating, making her humble, all the while maintaining humor and confidence. He could see why women admired her. It was quite a gift, and if he hadn’t met her, he’d want to.

  Mike scrolled through photos of a pony party that she’d done on Sunday. He guessed it was cool, if you were a five-year-old girl. It was the first post she’d personally done since Friday morning, and at the end she summarized as she usually did, often asking a question to engage the readers.

  Except for this party, my weekend was uneventful and relaxing since Bug spent most of it with her daddy. I read a lot and cleaned house. Anyone else do anything exciting?

  Mike sat back in his chair, completely shocked by what he’d just read. Yeah, he’d done something exciting, and so had she. She had to be crazy to say her weekend had been uneventful. Of course he didn’t expect her to say I spent part of Friday evening lying on my table with my dress around my waist so a man could lick me from head to toe, but something. Uneventful?

  He sat up and hit the COMMENT button. His hands hovered over the keyboard. There were a lot of comments he wanted to make. But none were appropriate for her blog. He needed to see Anne and soon.

  Mike clicked the comment window closed and leaned his head back into his hands. He couldn’t really blame her for leaving their episode out of her blog post—it certainly didn’t fit the tone, which was wholesome, and mommish—but he hadn’t stopped thinking about Anne since he’d left her that night. Or Claire. He assumed she recovered and gone back to her dad’s since Anne said she spent most of the weekend away.

  Claire had seemed so fragile and sweet when he’d carried her up to her room. He wasn’t sure why he’d felt the need to make her feel better, but when he’d tucked her into bed, her cheeks flaming with fever, he’d just started singing. The same song his mother had sung to him when he was a child. He was a pathetic singer, but Claire hadn’t seemed to care. She’d smiled, and asked him to sing it again. He even did the silly hand motions. Her sweet little grin was so much like Anne’s—genuinely happy—that made it worth it.

  After that he’d left, because it had gotten very weird. One minute he’d been hot and heavy with Anne, the next he was singing “Itsy Bitsy Spider.” Although he liked kids okay, and loved spending time with Bailey, nothing like that had ever happened to him. Probably because he’d never been involved with a woman who had a child before.

  That was why her words on the blog left him a little on edge. A huge event had happened over the weekend. He’d felt more than a little lust for Anne Edmond. But the thing that was blowing his mind was that he’d wanted to take care of Anne and her daughter. And aside from Bailey and his sister he’d never had strong feelings of that nature before. He wanted to make everything better for the two of them, even if it was just for one moment. He’d wanted to take some of the stress of having a sick child off Anne’s shoulders, and make Claire happy despite a high fever.

  It had been a damn long while since he’d thought about what it meant to be part of a family. To feel like you belonged somewhere, and to know that someone wanted and needed you there. He loved Erin and Bailey—and even Todd—but they were their own family unit that he would never be able to infiltrate because he was Uncle Mike. But now he was wondering what it would be like to have a family unit of his own to protect and care for. Gosh damn, he was a wreck. Years of dating and sex, and not once—ever—had a woman had him thinking these thoughts. Longing for things he’d never wanted before. But this woman, damn.

  Everything about Anne turned him on, from her coordinated outfits to her perfectly styled hair. The same way you’re attracted to a teacher or a librarian: You wanted to see them let loose a little, reveal their naughty secrets. After their night together, although interrupted, he was confident that she had an incredibly hot side to her, even if she was a hesitant to unleash it. More than that, though, he was also just drawn to Anne as a person. She was warm and sweet. A smile from her made him feel powerful and … happy. Not only because it was gorgeous, but because it was real and sincere.

  It was too soon to know what this thing was between him and Anne, too soon even to know what exactly it was he wanted it to be. But one thing was certain: He was dying to see her again. He glanced at the calendar on his desk. Tuesday was when Bailey had gymnastics. He picked up the phone and dialed Erin’s number.

  “Hi, Mikey,” Erin said when she picked up. It had always been her nickname for him for as long as he could remember.

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  “Well I’m standing in the middle of Target and Bailey just threw a temper tantrum because I won’t buy her a sixty-dollar jewelry maker.”

  “So just buy it. Problem solved.” Mike could hear his niece whining in the background.

  “You’re joking, right?”

  He chuckled. It was easy to get under Erin’s skin; she and
her daughter were cut from the same cloth even if she couldn’t see it. “Yes I’m joking, that wouldn’t send the right message. I’ll buy it for her.”

  “Mike don’t you—”

  “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” But he might do it anyway. He could rarely say no to Bailey.

  “So what do you need, I’m getting ready to check out,” she asked.

  “I just called to say hey.” He was a liar. “But it sounds like you could use a break. Why don’t I take Boo to gymnastics for you?”

  His suggestion was met with Erin’s silence, only the sounds of a busy store in the background. He knew Erin would want to take him up on the offer. Her husband was gone four days out of the week traveling for his job, and she got tired of being a pseudo-single mom. He knew it. So why was she hesitating. Unless …

  “Does this have anything to do with Anne Edmond?”

  This time it was Mike’s turn to be quiet. How the hell had she found out about that?

  “Your silence is very suspect, Michael Everett.” No more Mikey then. She meant business. He couldn’t tell if she was mad or just curious, so he didn’t know which angle to take.

  “I just met her when I took Bailey to Claire’s party.” That comment gave nothing away.

  “Well, I got my hair done Saturday morning at Lovely Salon and my stylist mentioned that Anne was at your shop last week. In fact it was all the talk with the ladies. I thought it was completely innocent when she told me that she needed your info to send a thank you. I never dreamed she’d make a personal delivery.”

  What the hell? News traveled fast in this town apparently. Mike blew out a breath. Katie was a hairdresser at Lovely. Was she really vindictive enough to spread this info? Sadly, he didn’t need to think hard about that to have a pretty good answer. He’d bruised her ego, big time.

  “Well, Erin, it was innocent. She brought me thank-you cinnamon rolls for a referral. No big deal.”

  “And by thank-you cinnamon rolls you mean—”

  “Stop it. Give her a little credit. I gave her a really high-dollar referral and she brought me a gift. Just like it sounds.”

  “And you haven’t seen her since?”

  “I might have run into her Friday night at Smokey’s, but it was a coincidence.” Another lie. He hadn’t lied to Erin in years, and he really didn’t like it.

  “Hmm. So she’s not the reason you want to take Bailey to practice tonight?”

  Okay, if he said no it would be an obvious fib and he couldn’t lie anymore. Plus, his sister was smarter than that. “Maybe a little.”

  Erin’s muffled voice invited someone to cut ahead of her in the checkout line, and considering she had a cranky little girl in tow he knew she meant business by giving up her place to continue this discussion. “I should say no, Mike. Anne is nice, and as far from your usual type as can be. She has a daughter who happens to be your niece’s best friend. They don’t need you coming in there and breaking hearts. That would be very awkward for me, you know?”

  She was right, he knew it, but it still pissed him off a little. He wondered how Erin would describe his type, then again maybe he didn’t want to know. He wasn’t in the habit of knowingly breaking hearts. Sure, it happened sometimes, but he couldn’t control other people’s feelings. He never lied to women or intended to give them false hope; he just never wanted anything serious. If anybody lied, it was the women who implied they felt the same way and then quickly changed their minds.

  “Erin, I’m not sure what’s going on between Anne and me, but it won’t be awkward, I promise.”

  He heard her blow out a breath. “I don’t know how you can keep that promise. If I didn’t crave a night to myself you would have no leverage, but you know better. Be here at five thirty.”

  “Will do.” He ended the call and drummed his fingers on the desk. Gymnastics practice couldn’t come fast enough.

  Twelve

  Smithfield Gymnastics had been part of Anne’s life since Claire was three, and the owners took the sport very seriously. The coaches were intense, even for six-year-old girls, but Claire loved it. She seemed to thrive on the high expectations, and in the past few months Anne had started to feel little muscles shaping in her daughter’s calves and forearms.

  Having her best friend, Bailey, join this year had been an added bonus, and it hadn’t taken long for Bailey to work herself up to Claire’s level, never wanting to be outdone. Anne adored Bailey, but she was Claire’s opposite. Strong-willed, opinionated, and a little aggressive. Not in a bad way, but she definitely was used to getting her way a lot.

  Anne took a seat where she usually did, in the upstairs viewing area that surrounded the expansive gym floor on three sides. There were always several classes going at once, ranging from toddlers all the way to experienced teenagers, and they were all fascinating to watch. The girls were toned and strong, doing things with their bodies that didn’t seem possible. She wasn’t sure how far she wanted Claire to take the sport, because it required a high level of dedication. But for now she was letting Claire decide.

  The lower-level viewing area was more popular since you could hear the more advanced coaches yelling, and some parents seemed to get off on that. But Anne didn’t; she preferred the upstairs, which, while a little overwarm, was quiet and peaceful with its glass windows overlooking the gym. Today all the lights were off, probably to help keep it cool, so the only light was coming from the high gym ceiling on the other side of the viewing windows.

  She often watched Claire, but she also read or played with her phone during the hour-long practice. Today—as she often was—she was the only one up there so she cracked open the Diet Coke she bought from the vending machine and pulled up the trashy romance novel she’d been reading on her phone app.

  She would need to remember to look up every once in a while and catch Claire on the uneven bars or mats so she could make an encouraging comment later. After about ten minutes the wooden stairs that led to the viewing floor creaked, and she quietly groaned at the thought that another parent would be impinging on her privacy. She hated having to make small talk when all she wanted to do was read.

  She saw a body walking down the bench-lined hall from the corner of her eye so she turned, intent on giving the formal half smile you did to people in situations like this. Instead her gaze landed on sexy Mike Everett. He was in his typical outfit of faded jeans, this time with a navy polo shirt. And he had a hat on, which was new to her, but incredibly hot. His boyish smirk forced her to turn away and hide her wide grin.

  “Uh-uh, Anne, don’t pretend you’re not happy to see me.” He sat down about a foot from her and leaned to the side to nudge her shoulder with his. Her body warmed instantly with the contact. Shoot, she warmed at his mere presence, or even the thought of his presence.

  She smiled at him. She couldn’t help it because she was glad to see him—and admitted to herself she’d thought about him constantly since Friday night. Realistically she hadn’t really expected to hear from him, but after their intense night together, she couldn’t deny that she’d been a teeny bit disappointed when he hadn’t contacted her Sunday or Monday.

  In that one night alone she’d experienced so many facets of the amazing Uncle Mike, it would have been impossible not to think of him. After dinner at her mom’s she’d pretty much convinced herself there wasn’t really anything going on and she shouldn’t worry so much, but now?

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I brought my niece to practice,” he said with a nod down at the gym.

  “Bailey has been coming here for nearly ten months and you’ve never brought her,” she said, calling his bluff.

  He grinned at this. “I had new motivation, I guess.”

  Anne’s stomach did a flip, and she looked out at the girls on the trampoline. She really shouldn’t give too much thought to him being here, but it was damn hard not to. They watched the practice in silence for a few minutes; finally he scooted a little closer, widening his legs so
they brushed hers. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

  Anne took a drink of her soda and stuffed her phone into her purse. No way could she concentrate on her book now. Anyway, being around Mike was a million times better than reading about fictional people getting it on. His spicy scent was real, his muscles here in the flesh, and he came here to see her. There was no doubt.

  Mike turned his head so his temple rested on his fist. “It’s empty up here.”

  She shrugged. “It’s getting hot, so people stay down where it’s cooler.” And it was getting warmer by the second.

  “You like it hot?” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “Is your mind always in the gutter?”

  “Only with you.”

  “Pfff, I doubt that.”

  “You seem to doubt a lot of things about me.”

  Anne raised an eyebrow at him. She was not used to this kind of sexually charged banter, and clearly he was, but it made her tingly all over. She shifted her legs and adjusted her skirt, not missing the way Mike’s eyes roamed over her lower half, following every movement. Thank God she’d shaved today. She’d even worn a cute little skirt and matching tank top. She felt pretty, and he made her also feel desirable.

  They continued to watch for a while, he asked her a few questions about what the girls were doing as they took turns on the mat, and Anne tried to slow her racing heart. Finally he sat up straight, leaned against the wall behind them, and set a hand on her knee, which was half covered by the bottom of her skirt. She nearly shivered, but thankfully managed to keep her body in check. “What are you doing?”

  He turned and looked at her, playing innocent. “What? Oh, I’m just touching you.”

  “I know that, but why? We’re in public.” And please don’t stop.