by Lex Martin
“Okay.”
Her cheeks redden and her voice drops down to a whisper. “I wanted to make sure you and the kids and Logan had enough to eat while I was gone.”
Well, damn.
I don’t think. I just react, pulling her into a side hug. “That’s about the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time, darlin’. Thank you.”
Her hand looks small on my chest, her body tiny nestled against mine. She’s still for a second and then she hugs me back, and I can feel her smile against me. “You’re welcome.” God, she’s cute. And fuck, she smells good, like summer and sunshine and coconuts.
I lean away and give her a stern look. “No more skipping meals or eating sandwiches on my account. If you want something else to eat, then go for it, but your wellbeing is just as important as my family’s, okay? Don’t skimp at dinner so we can eat the next day. That’s unacceptable. And Logan can get his own damn meals over the weekend. He doesn’t even live here.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chuckling, I let her go, immediately wishing I could hold her again.
“Please don’t exhaust yourself on our account. If you’re too tired to make dinner, we’ll order pizza or the kids can deal with my mac and cheese.”
When she agrees, I nudge her with my elbow, and she nudges me back, and I try not to think about how much I like having her here next to me. The fact that the woman worried enough about me and my kids to cook up a small feast proves how wrong I was about her when we first met. God, I was such a cock. This girl is amazing. Thoughtful. Sweet with my kids.
Sexy as hell.
As we watch the game, I mull over the reason she says she didn’t eat tonight. It doesn’t explain the rest of the week or why she darts off to her room in the evenings, but I think I’ve pushed her enough for now.
When I get up for a beer a little later, I make a couple of brisket sandwiches and place one on the coffee table in front of her.
I park myself on the couch and nudge her again. “This babe I know makes me the best food. You really should try her brisket.”
Tori laughs and shakes her head. To my delight, she eats the sandwich.
Ethan
Not even forty-eight hours later, I find myself looking out the window, glancing at the front door, listening for signs of a car or truck along the driveway.
Logan kicks me under the table while we eat dinner with the kids. “Don’t look so eager.”
My brother, his best friend Joey, my kids, and I are having dinner in the kitchen.
“What are you talking about?” I shove a bite of Tori’s shredded beef in my mouth and barely contain a groan because it’s so good.
He leans closer and lowers his voice. “The whole trick is to not let women know you want them.”
I wait until Joey washes the kids’ hands to respond. “You do realize I was having sex when you were still in Little League, right? Besides, I’m not making a play for Tori.”
There’s no way I’ll forget the way she threw down the gauntlet at her sister’s house. No sex. Ever. That hasn’t helped the dreams I started having two nights ago after the ice cream incident. I woke up with my hand in my boxer briefs like a damn fifteen-year-old.
“No?” His eyebrow curves up. “Not gonna bang the hot nanny?”
Smacking him in the chest, I give him a look. “No. And neither are you. In case you were wondering.”
He grins like an idiot.
The front doorbell rings, and my heart leaps in my chest. Joey offers to answer it.
Groaning, I drop my face in my hands. Am I seriously nervous over this woman? A woman who has sworn nothing is gonna happen between us? Fucking figures. Not that I need this kind of complication with the court date for my divorce two weeks away. That’s the best reminder that I suck at relationships.
Fuck. I did not just use the R-word right now.
I’m not in a good place to have one yet, not with the truckload of baggage weighing me down at the moment.
This gives me pause because I’ve always been a one-woman kind of guy. Sleeping around with random chicks does nothing for me. If given a choice, I’d always pick something special with one girl over meaningless sex with many.
But is this really something I should be exploring with my kids’ nanny?
Damn. I know how to get myself in messed-up situations.
Female voices come down the hall, and the second I see Tori, I smile. She looks more relaxed, and her face brightens when the kids go barreling into her for a hug.
I open my mouth to say hi, but my brother beats me to it.
“Hey, gorgeous. How’s your sister?”
I bristle at his term of endearment, and he smirks at me. Asshole. But she is gorgeous, even in cutoffs and an old t-shirt. It’s the affection in her eyes for my kids, though, that really hits me. I love how she gives them all her attention.
Tori’s laughing at Cody’s sloppy kisses. “Good. I swear Kat’s giving birth to a giant. Her baby is enormous, but don’t tell her that.”
Logan shivers like he’s about to have a seizure. “Pregnant women scare me. Too many hormones.”
Joey rolls her eyes.
I point to my brother’s best friend. “Tori, this is Josephine. She went to school with Logan and somehow manages to put up with this lazy bag of bones. She helped me out today with the kids so I could get some work done.”
Tori gives her a sweet smile. “I love your hair. It’s beautiful.”
Joey touches her blue locks. “Thanks. Someone told me I look like a deranged Smurf.” She punches my brother, and he puts her in a headlock with one arm while he scrolls through his phone on the other. She’s still hanging halfway upside down when she points to Tori. “But your hair is, wow. It’s so pretty.”
“Thank you. It needs a trim.”
“I could do it.”
Motioning toward Joey, I explain that she does hair.
“Yeah?” Tori perks up. “How much do you charge? Just to trim the dead ends?”
Joey wiggles her way out of my brother’s choke hold and strokes Tori’s hair gently, taking a moment to study the ends. “I’d do it for free. You know, the friends and family discount.”
“No way. My hair is a pain in the ass. Your arm will fall off by the time you’re done. I have to pay you something.”
“Um.” Joey tilts her head. “How about we trade? You show me how to make this recipe”—she points to her half-eaten plate of dinner—“and I’ll cut your hair.”
Tori leans over to see which leftovers we ate. “You want to learn how to make carne guisada? Sure. It’s super easy.”
“Dinner was dope, Tor,” my brother says, not looking up from his phone. “I can’t believe you made enough leftovers for the weekend. I think I love you.”
Tori laughs and stoops down to look at a painting Mila made for her. A few minutes later, Tori starts to lug her bag from the hall.
Logan stops her to pick it up. “You pack more than Joey does for two days.”
“I needed to do some laundry, but I didn’t get a chance. That’s okay. I’ll do it next weekend.”
What is she talking about? I get up and take the bag from my brother, whose eyebrows lift. I motion toward the kids, and he smirks again, offering to get them ready for bed. I watch as he and Joey take them down the hall before I return my attention to Tori.
I stand right in front of her until she looks at me. “Tori, why would you need to wait until you go to your sister’s to do your laundry? Are you too good for my washer and dryer too?”
She laughs and shakes her head. I like her laugh. I want to hear it again.
“No? Then why are you saving it for your sister’s?”
Her lips twist as she tries to contain that smile.
“That’s what I thought. C’mon.” I take her hand and drag her down the hall. “I didn’t think you needed a personal invitation to use all the amenities in this house, but apparently you do.”
Stopping in the laundry room
, I hoist her enormous duffle bag onto the counter. “Here’s the washer and dryer. Now, it might not be as nice as your sister’s, but you should use it.”
She opens her mouth to respond, but I pull her into the adjacent office. “This place is a mess because I only have two hands and twenty-four hours a day, but this is my office.” I don’t think she’s been in here. “If you ever need to print anything or use my laptop, feel free. Or if you want to watch TV and we’re hogging the one in the living room, you can watch in here.”
“Thanks, but I don’t—”
Ignoring whatever she’s saying, I maneuver her back out and across the house. When I open my bedroom door, she falters. I turn around. “It’s okay. I’m not abducting you. Just wanna show you my tub. It has these fancy jets and all kinds of functions I haven’t even figured out yet. I thought you might want to use it after a long day watching my rugrats. You know, when you’re busy avoiding me at dinner.”
She looks embarrassed. “Ethan, I—”
I don’t wait for her to finish. Taking her hand, I tug her into my huge bathroom and flip on the lights. It’s beautiful. All custom marble and shit I don’t care about but my ex-wife did.
“Please, take a bath. I never do, and the guilt is killing me for spending that kind of money on something no one uses.”
Her eyes are huge as she takes in the bathroom.
Reaching for the cabinet, I present the wide array of bath products my ex left behind. Bottles and bottles of crap Allison never bothered to use herself. Of course, I threw out the shit that smelled like her when I realized she wasn’t coming back. I have enough reminders of her in this house without smelling her lotions. “Go to town. Use everything. I don’t care.”
Before Tori can say anything, I resume the tour. Past the kids’ bedrooms, past the kids’ bathroom and Tori’s bedroom. I stop in front of the last room. Flipping on the lights, I motion for her to step inside.
“I don’t know if you like crafts or sewing, but my mom has a ton of stuff stored here, and I know she’d love for you to use whatever you want. For yourself or for the kids.”
Tori takes a small step forward and lightly touches the bolts of fabrics that are arranged along the wall. “This is amazing.” She frowns and retracts her hand. “Are you sure she’d be okay with me messing with her things?”
“I promise. Go for it.” Sighing, I run my hand over my chin. “Sorry I never gave you the grand tour. I realize now that I kinda threw you into our lives, and maybe you haven’t felt a hundred percent welcome, but I want you to know you are. My kids love you, and for all of my bitching at you the first time we met, I have to admit I’m pretty fond of you too.” Her eyes shoot up to mine, and I give her a stupid smile. “Even when you are a little feisty, but if I’m being honest, I like that side of you the best.”
She laughs that sexy, raspy laugh, and my blood heats with the playfulness in her eyes. “Why, Ethan Carter, are you saying you want the uncensored version of me?” She tsks. “I’m not entirely sure you can handle that.”
I take a step closer and tug on a strand of her hair. “Try me.”
Tori
Tiny hands tangle in my hair, and I smile down at Mila. This girl loves playing with my hair almost as much as Cody does.
“Once upon a time…”
In the soft light of her bedroom, I read as quietly as I can to lull her to sleep. Page after page, I watch her snuggle deeper into her cozy bed. Even though I hate these stories, the kind where the woman is beholden to the man for rescuing her, a teeny part of me loves the romance.
“And the prince saved the princess from the dangerous dragon, and they lived happily ever after. The end.”
Her eyes are closed, and she’s breathing so deeply, I’m thinking I can sneak out of here when she crinkles her nose and whispers, “Why couldn’t the princess climb outta the castle by herself? Why’d the prince hafta climb in to save her?”
I smile, loving her inquisitive mind. “Because if the prince had stayed outside of the castle any longer, the dragon would’ve gotten him. This way, the princess is really saving him.”
My crazy answer seems to satisfy her, and she nods into her pillow with a deep sigh.
When I close her bedroom door, Ethan is tiptoeing out of Cody’s room too.
“Sorry you needed to do double duty today,” he says softly as we head toward the living room.
“No worries. I’m glad Cody settled down.”
Usually, Ethan manages to get both kids to bed on his own, but for some reason, Cody was restless tonight and wanted extra snuggle time with his dad. I was happy to help and read to Mila.
Ethan hands me a bag of popcorn when we get settled in front of the TV. He makes a quick call to his mom, and I stifle a laugh when he makes a face at me and says, “Yes, Ma, your pot roast is better,” while he’s shaking his head no.
When he hangs up, I ask how Beverly’s doing.
“She misses the kids, but she’s long overdue for this trip to see her sister.” He reaches across my lap for some popcorn. “She wanted to know how you like your room. If you have everything you need.”
I nod, feeling oddly pleased his mom asked about me. “Tell her the amenities are lovely and that I am so delighted someone introduced me to the washer and dryer.”
“Smartass.” He chuckles and adjusts the volume on the remote.
Even though the couch is enormous, he’s sitting right next to me, so close I can feel the heat from his body.
I shove a huge bite of popcorn into my mouth to distract me from the clean, masculine scent of his body wash. Being around Ethan fresh out of the shower every evening after work is the hardest part of my day. Seeing him barefoot around his house in jeans and old t-shirts suggests a certain intimacy I don’t really have with him.
“Mmm. I love kettle corn,” I say around a mouthful. Despite how nervous he makes me sometimes, I force myself to act like I would around my friends in Austin, which means my inner tomboy is at full throttle. Thus, I’m stuffing my face.
He dips his hand into the bag. “Me too. Between our desserts and your dinners, I’m gonna weigh two tons by the end of the summer.”
“As if. You must burn four thousand calories a day.” It’s true. Ethan works like a dog, slaving from sun-up until sun-down in the sweltering barn. Sometimes after the kids are in bed, he ties the long-range baby monitor to his belt and toils some more. The man has a remarkable work ethic.
And I’m guessing remarkable stamina.
I mean, I can only imagine.
When a commercial comes on for a concert, I smile at the memories. “Ryan Hunter was so good live.”
Ethan turns to me with a nod. “Saw him and his band a few years ago. They kicked ass.”
“I didn’t peg you as an alternative music fan.” Ryan Hunter is known for his acoustic style, original songwriting, and his hot AF face and bod.
Though, now that I’m sitting next to Ethan, I’d say my number one celebrity crush has some competition.
Ethan shrugs. “Brady got me into his music, strangely enough.”
I push him playfully. “He got me into Ryan’s music too. I was in my senior year of high school, and Brady wouldn’t shut up about this band he knew from Boston.”
He gives me a sexy smirk. “I forget you’re still a baby.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m laughing. “Whatever. You can’t help that you’re old.”
It’s weird how natural it feels to give him a hard time. It’s even weirder to figure out we were both at the same Ryan Hunter concert all those years ago.
With us shooting the shit, I can’t help but let down my defenses because, after a week of hanging out, this vibe between us seems natural.
Despite my better judgment, I find myself liking Ethan more than I should. But if the only way I’m going to not like him is to avoid him altogether, then I’ll just have to deal with this puppy crush. Because disappearing in the evenings only hurt his feelings, which I won’t do again.
I’ve also learned that the beautiful redhead I saw last week is a client, and judging from the comments I’ve overheard from Logan, she’s not someone whose attention Ethan welcomes.
Still.
I need to tread carefully.
I figure it’s only two months, and then I’ll go back to Austin. The thought saddens me, but it’s not like I’m a permanent member of this family. Even though I sort of wish I was. Unlike when I was dating Jamie, however, I don’t let myself fantasize.
It would be so easy to daydream. To wonder what it would be like if Ethan and I were together. Like right now? I’d sit closer to him and lean into his broad chest. He’d band one of his big arms around me and kiss the top of my head, and I’d sigh happily and let my hand meander over his stomach and appreciate every one of those ridges. Maybe I’d nuzzle against him. Smell his sexy scent. Lick and nibble my way up his neck until I straddled his lap and felt his thick, hard length through his jeans.
Yes, please.
The benefit to living with this man is seeing him in all manner of dress. My favorite happens to be those thin nylon sweatpants that show exactly how much he’s packing.
More than a mouthful.
The sound of baseball fills the room, snapping my attention to the TV.
“You didn’t check the MLB app, did you?” he asks.
His voice is so sexy. Deep and masculine. Commanding.
“No.” I shake my head to get out of whatever loony place it had gone a moment ago. Is it hot in here? “I would never cheat and see who won.” Squeezing my thighs together, I realize I might need a verrrrry cold shower later.
“Good girl.”
“But I might’ve seen that someone hit a grand slam.” I cringe playfully and wait for him to freak out. The goofball DVRed the Astros game since they played earlier today. He’s very serious about not seeing spoilers before he can watch.
His eyebrows furrow, and he holds his chest. “You’re breaking my heart, Victoria. No ice cream for you this week.”
