by Ann Aguirre
“What’re you doing?”
“Sautéing them.”
“Dad puts them in the microwave.”
“That doesn’t get your dogs crispy, my friend. It only makes them bloated.”
“What’s that?”
I puffed out my cheeks to show him. “This is.”
“Oh. Auntie Gloria gets that in her knees.”
“Ouch. That’s probably why she needs surgery.” I remembered Ty mentioning that as the reason she couldn’t watch Sam anymore.
At some point, I expected Sam would get bored watching me cook, but he followed me around the kitchen asking things like, why did I wait until the water was boiling so hard before adding the macaroni, why did I put the butter and milk in before the cheese powder, how come I was still cooking it when it looked done, why were the hot dogs so brown when I stirred them in. Since I was used to kids, it didn’t bother me, but he hardly seemed to breathe for the questions. As the final step, I thawed the broccoli and chopped it superfine, then stirred it into the casserole. That counted as a vegetable.
It was around seven by then, so I figured he must be starving. I definitely was. “Should we see how it turned out?”
“Yes!”
I served up two plates and poured us both cups of milk, then we sat down. All things considered, it wasn’t bad, though tailored to a kid’s palate. Head down, he ate with adorable gusto, like his dinner might disappear. For dessert, I gave him a cup of orange Jell-O, prepackaged and in the fridge. For an hour afterward, we played with trucks because as it turned out, the steamer trunk that doubled as a coffee table was also a toy box.
When he asked to watch TV, I gave him a suspicious look. “I don’t think so. If I called your dad, he’d say it was bath time, am I right?”
Sam angled the most angelic look imaginable up at me. “I dunno. I’m only four. I can’t tell time yet.”
“Nice try. I know what time small humans go to bed. To the bath with you!”
That was an insane, shambolic affair. By the time I got him washed, rinsed and dried, I was a sopping mess, and since I’d worked at day care and had my practicum today as well, every muscle in my body hurt. But I kept my smile bright for Sam. Pretending to be a monster, I chased him down the hall. He had the master bedroom, like the one Lauren and I shared upstairs. Down here, half the space contained a twin bed and kid’s furniture while the rest provided a play area. Since it was a three-bedroom, Ty was using one as his own room and the other seemed to be a studio, complete with computer desk and drafting table.
“Okay, jammies on, teeth brushed. Now let’s find Goodnight Moon—”
“Where’s Mr. O’Beary?” He tugged on the bottom of my shirt.
“Hmm?” I shoved damp hair away from my face as I turned back his covers. His dark blue sheets were spangled with silver crescent moons and five-point stars trailing golden dust.
“He’s my friend. I can’t sleep without him.”
“Give me a minute here.” I’d definitely seen him hauling the plushie around, so I’d recognize it when I spotted it.
As I dug through crates of toys, Sam transformed from adorable kid to shrieking demon. I couldn’t understand more than one word in ten due to both volume and sobbing, but if he kept it up, his head might explode. The tantrum started with wailing, then escalated to Sam flinging himself on his face and pounding with hands and feet. When he banged his head on the floor, I picked him up, but that only made it worse. He fought me, weeping so hard that his nose ran and he smeared snot all over my already wet shirt. With him yelling in my ear, I could hardly think where to look. My head throbbed in cadence with each shrill cry, scraping raw over my nerves. He clung to my side while I stumbled around the apartment, turning everything inside out. It took me forty-five minutes to find that damned bear, still in his backpack from nap time at school, left beside the door. If only I’d thought of that sooner. Still sniffling, he climbed into bed, strangling Mr. O’Beary with his love.
Finally, sweet, blessed silence. I’d dealt with difficult kids before but never one who switched so fast from pure sunshine to a monsoon of misery. Gathering the tatters of my composure, I wiped his face with a damp cloth. My hands shook in reaction when I pulled up his covers, and a steel band tightened around my skull, a souvenir of the fit. I also had a fierce kink between my shoulders from hauling him around for an hour. This felt almost like a hangover, though it was emotional, not physical.
He spoke in a tiny, chastened voice. “Are you mad, Nadia?”
“No. Just tired.”
Then I leaned down and hugged him, so he’d know I meant it. By this point, he was exhausted, but he clung to my hand as I read Goodnight Moon. Before I finished the story, he passed out, eyes still red and swollen. For a few seconds, I stayed on the side of his bed, afraid to move, afraid I’d jar him awake and start the noise again.
Eventually, I stole out of the room, swallowing a huge sigh. My clothes were still wet, and I was shivering. Hoping Ty wouldn’t mind, I went to his room and opened the closet door. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, right? No snooping, I grabbed the first shirt I found and changed into it. White dress shirt, good quality. It didn’t cover as much of me as it would have a smaller woman. Even my socks were wet, so I hung my clothes to dry in the bathroom. Not for the first time, I wished these units had a built-in washer and dryer.
Afterward, I arched my back and stretched. Sounds like my spine’s made of bubble wrap. I assessed the apartment, wincing. So trashed. I’d dumped just about everything Sam owned onto the floor. My body shouted at me to collapse, but I couldn’t. Not yet. Mustering the last of my reserves, I set the bathroom to rights, tidied up the kitchen and put Sam’s toys away.
There, that’s fine.
When Ty’s key rattled in the door at ten-fifteen, I was barely awake, snuggled on the couch beneath the chenille throw. He stepped inside, shoulders slumped in exhaustion. Man, I knew exactly how he felt. The scruff on his jaw said he hadn’t shaved in two or three days, and his hair was rumpled. A crooked tie spoke of frustration.
“Did you solve the problem?” I managed a smile.
“Yeah. I found the permits, thank God. I knew we had them. Everything go okay here?” he asked, glancing around the room warily.
That was exactly why I had to clean up. “More or less. Sam ate dinner, took a bath and brushed his teeth. I read him a story. Now he’s asleep.”
“This sounds too good to be true.”
Momentarily sidestepping the implicit question, I scooted out of my warm nest, went to the kitchen, pressed a few buttons and came back. “There’s a plate of casserole in the microwave. I’m nuking it for you.”
He was still standing, frozen, beside the couch. “Is that...my shirt?”
Oh, my God. How could I forget? Shit. My cheeks filled with enough heat to power the whole town. “My stuff got soaked during Sam’s bath. It’s drip-drying. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“No, it’s fine. I was just...surprised. I don’t expect you to sit around in wet clothes.”
The microwave beeped, saving me. “Sit down. I’ll get it.”
To my relief, he did as I suggested. Maybe he was just so tired, walking another step sounded like too much effort. So I delivered the gourmet—according to Sam—meal, along with a bottle of beer. Embarrassed, I sat and pulled the throw over my legs.
Lord, he must think this is the lamest seduction ever.
Ty stared at his plate. “This is...pretty much his favorite dinner, though I don’t usually put the broccoli in it. Sneaky, I like it. So how was Sam, really?”
“One minor snafu.” That was a hell of an understatement, but complaining wouldn’t diminish his stress or mine. “Took me forty-five minutes to find Mr. O’Beary.”
“You...” He stared at me, spoon arrested partway to his mouth.
“What?”
Ty shook his head as if in disbelief. “I know what Sam’s like when we can’t find that stupid bear. How come you’re
not rocking and weeping?”
I smiled at him in reassurance. “There are a few difficult students in my practicum, so this wasn’t my first time. Yeah, Sam was upset, but he settled down as soon as I realized where to look. He’s a sweet kid.”
“I quit,” he said softly.
“Huh?”
He rubbed his chest, like it was aching. “You made his favorite dinner, and you found his bear. I come home, and you’re wearing my shirt. I can’t fight this anymore, Nadia.”
“I’m sorry—” I started.
His expression silenced me. Never in my life had I seen that exact combination of need and longing.
“Unless you don’t want me to, I might literally die if I don’t kiss you.”
“I want,” I whispered.
In an instant, Ty closed the distance between us and cupped my face in his hands. His palms, oh, we’d been here before, but never like this. I licked my lips as his gaze skated over my face, kindled like a jar of honey in the sunlight. He made the hungriest sound I’d ever heard as he leaned in. But his lips were whisper-soft when they brushed mine, moonbeams and starlight. Shocking heat surged through me from that slight contact. He backed off just for a few seconds, gazing at me with a sort of startled adoration. Then he went back in for a deeper taste. I hadn’t fantasized beyond this moment—I hadn’t dared—but dreams couldn’t have done it justice. He kissed like all the best kinds of sin, slow and steamy, echoed by nips and bites, soft sounds and nuzzling. I gave back, more, more, mouths, tongues, his hands in my hair, mine on his shoulders.
It went on for ages, until he was practically on top of me.
“Too much?” he panted.
Not enough.
Somewhere in my head, there was a brain, but it was sizzling in pleasure and pheromones, drowning in the sweet, slick rush of endorphins, because he felt and tasted perfect. Hot skin, bristly jaw, soft lips, a touch chapped, and I’m licking them—mmm, that chin—Ty wrapped his arms around me and drew me onto his lap. Ty was hot and hard underneath me, throbbing. In his shirt, my legs were bare as I straddled him, still kissing. He trailed his lips away from my mouth, over my jaw and down my throat, counterpoint of teeth and tongue to make me moan. He took each sound, each gasp, with a quick lunge back to my lips. He stroked a path down my back, pausing at my hips then sliding lower. A shudder went through both of us when he grazed my bare thighs.
“Nadia,” he whispered against my neck.
“Mmm.”
“I wanted you the first time I saw you.”
I shifted, bit him gently on the ear. “It was mutual.”
“Christ.”
“Take your shirt off.” All my big words were gone. I was beyond thinking or caring about consequences. Obstacles between us faded to flutters in the back of my head.
He leaned back so I could unbutton him. Ty had a lean build, long and wiry, with broad shoulders tapering to a taut stomach. The auburn hair that arrowed toward his belt only made him sexier, so I yielded to the impulse to rub my hands against his chest. He sucked in a sharp breath in response to that touch, cause and effect. His heart hammered away beneath my palms.
“That’s so good,” he whispered.
“Yeah.” I was hardly paying attention to what he said anymore, only the tone, lost in the magic of making him react. At long last, I had permission to touch.
Teasing, I brushed my thumbs against his nipples, admiring the ruddy stripe on his cheekbones as they tightened. Now he was quiet, too. He couldn’t stop moving under me, a shift here, push there. My weight promised all kinds of things, and Ty pulled me in for a long, hungry kiss, his hand firm on the back of my neck. As we kissed, I raked my nails over his shoulders, and he groaned.
“Can’t tonight,” he growled. “I’m not... I don’t—”
“It’s okay.” The bleary comprehension that he didn’t have any condoms didn’t stop me from circling my hips, grinding.
“Want to. Think you...” Muffled moan, as he rubbed my thighs, up and down, working us together. “Know how much.”
“No more mixed feelings?” It was all I could do to ask the question.
“W-we can... We have to...” He lost the thread as I kissed my way down his neck and bit softly into his shoulder. “Fuck.”
A whimper escaped me. “I agree.”
“Not what I— Oh, God.” He held my hips hard, just moving me on him, and I watched his face, watched the pleasure build. “Can’t think. I just... I need—”
He went rigid, jaw flexing. Ty’s legs jerked underneath me as he held on to my thighs, stroking them compulsively. “Nadia, fuck, Nadia.”
“Yes.” The word hissed out of me when he parted the tails of his shirt. It was sexier with that intent look, his fingers skating down my belly toward my damp panties. He dipped past the elastic and down, until he could stroke me. I lifted up on my knees, desperate to come. Four strokes, and I was gone, lost in his arms. I melted over him, draping my head on his shoulder.
“Your turn,” I whispered.
Ty’s head fell back and he squeezed his eyes shut with a choky laugh. “About that...”
My eyes widened. “Wow. Really?”
“I haven’t done that since— Shit, I never did that.” He opened his arms, freeing me to snuggle beside him, and I did.
Part of me was relieved that he wasn’t feeling a cocktail of horrible things right now, including regret. But I had questions now that I could think again. “So...what is this?”
“Afterglow?” He looked positively beatific.
I kissed him. “You know what I mean.”
He brushed his lips against my temple in turn. “Give me a minute. I’m seeing stars here. It was a long day before we went to wonderland.”
“Okay.” Utterly relaxed, I closed my eyes.
It was a good five minutes before he spoke again. “I don’t know what the hell we’re doing. Objectively, it’s still a bad idea, and if you don’t want a repeat once you understand what I can offer, I understand. No hard feelings.”
I already wanted a repeat and didn’t much care about the terms. “I’m listening.”
“I was afraid this would complicate things, and it still might. But I’d like to find a balance, if we can.”
“To what?”
“Being friends with benefits. If you meet someone else or it starts feeling wrong, we go back to being friends.”
“The same goes for you,” I said.
The twist of his mouth said hell would freeze first. “Obviously, we have to be careful. More than we were tonight. I won’t do anything to hurt Sam.”
“I know.”
“If he’d had a nightmare or woken up with a stomachache...” A shaky sigh escaped him. “I’m aware that you care for him, too. So you understand why we have to keep this...separate. Private.” Ty’s expression went butter-soft and twice as sweet as he kissed me. “If this works out as I hope, you’ll be around for him long after you lose interest in me.”
That’s never going to happen.
But I didn’t say it out loud. Too many promises had been broken for him to believe something like that from a woman who just came all over his hand. To his mind, I’d probably say anything to get those clever fingers in my panties again.
“I think you might entertain me for a while,” I said, trying for a flirty look.
The relief in his gaze told me I’d struck the right note. Yeah, your good friend Nadia just wants to objectify you sexually. No scary emotions here. If he knew how I really felt, he’d probably break the world speed record running away.
“Likewise.”
“I hate to make you feel used, but I should probably get home. It’s late.”
He hugged me hard before helping me to my feet. “It’s a tough life, but I’ll think of you while I’m shame-weeping. Where are your clothes?”
“Bathroom.”
Ty fetched them quietly, and I shivered as I wriggled into still-damp jeans. He made it really hard to finish getting dressed because
he kept trying to peek inside the shirt I was wearing, his shirt, and it was both frustrating and sexy as hell. By the time I got my jacket and boots on, I was ready to fool around some more. So I rose up on tiptoes, gave him a scorching kiss and let myself out of his apartment to the gratifying sound of Ty cursing.
I probably radiated the just fucked vibe, so thank God Max was the only person home, and he barely glanced at me. Angus and Lauren would’ve given me the third degree, and I’d bet Max would’ve paid more attention, had Lauren come home looking the same way. In the bedroom, I confirmed it. Yep, sex hair, swollen lips, wow, he marked my neck behind my ear.
A little shiver went through me.
I took a shower, imagining how it would be with Ty, all wet, steamy nakedness, and then sex afterward in a warm bed. For us, those moments were likely to be few and far between. As I stepped out of the tub, I realized they’d be confined to the end of the month. Otherwise, any time we snatched would feel sneaky and furtive. And maybe that would be hot under some conditions, but trying not to get caught by a four-year-old was not one of those scenarios. Plus, my turn-on was watching, not getting caught in the act.
I wrapped a towel around me and opened the bathroom door in time to hear my phone buzzing away. Digging it out of my purse, I already had a message from Ty. A pic, too. My breath caught as I opened it. He wasn’t pervy enough to send me a close-up of his junk, but I got one of his soapy chest, droplets of water on the phone when he took it. Hot as hell. He must’ve taken this in the shower.
The text read, Wish you were here.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The next morning, Angus woke me just past six by collapsing at the foot of my bed with a sigh. Normally, I’d be up on my own since I had to be at work by eight. Shit, I must’ve turned off my alarm. But he didn’t seem to realize he’d done me a favor.
“You okay?”
“I broke up with Josh for good.”
I’d suspected that was coming. If he’d been able to move past it, he probably wouldn’t have spent so long mentally debating the issue. “I’m sorry. Give me a sec.”
