The chick who lives next door looks like the last fuckin’ thing she wants to do is let me fix her washing machine for her. It ain’t what I was expecting. After I saw her staring out the window at me earlier, I thought she was gonna come over and play hard to get, all the while pretending she wasn’t trying to get me into bed.

But one look at her flour-dusted apron and those fuckin’ monkey slippers and I realized it wasn’t about that. Women can be a mystery, but if it’s one thing I know, it’s that they don’t come on to a man dressed like that.

She doesn’t seem entirely convinced I ain’t a serial killer or something. I’d be offended by that, except it’s so goddamn ridiculous it’s almost cute. I mean, how many serial killers have you ever seen who had this much ink? It’s the scrawny, mousy lookin’ guys who are the ones you gotta look out for.

But even though she’s not quite convinced I ain’t dangerous, and even though she really does have a problem with her washer doesn’t change the fact that she’s hot for me. I know a look of lust when I see one. She knows I caught her looking out her kitchen window at me. And she’s embarrassed as hell about it. She hates that she wants me. And she hates that I know it.

Not that I mind. She’s sexy as hell, in an uptight, repressed kind of way. She seems like the kind of chick who would come like a firehose, and be totally taken by surprise by it. Like none of the men she’s been with before have known a damn thing about how to make a woman’s body respond.

I bet I could make her come in ten seconds flat.

Not that I’d want to. I’d want to draw it out. Maybe make her beg a little.

The thought makes my cock strain in my jeans.

I follow her into her house, watching her ass the whole time. Her almost-black hair is tied up in this big mess on top of her head, and a few stray strands are brushing against her neck. The contrast of dark hair on her pale, flawless skin is hot as hell. Since I’m already thinking about fucking her, my mind instantly jumps to how creamy and soft the skin on her inner thighs must be. My dick throbs as I imagine scratching it with my beard, making her moan and shiver in anticipation of my tongue against her pussy.

What she doesn’t know is, I’ve been watchin’ her, too.

Thinking about peeling off those mom jeans and making her forget her own name.

Right now, though, I need to stop thinking about takin’ her to bed. At least long enough to fix her damn washer.

After that? All bets are off.

“You need to cut the electricity to the washer,” I tell her when I’ve surveyed the situation. “Where’s your fuse box?”

“Um, down in the basement, I think.” Bailey shudders. “I never go down there — it’s too creepy. Why do you need to cut the power?”

“You need to turn off the washing machine to stop the water from running. And you don’t want the electricity to the machine on when there’s standing water around.”

“Oh, sh—oot!” she exclaims, looking down guiltily at the puddle. “I should have thought of that.”

I have Bailey point me to the basement door. I flip the light switch and head down the stairs. I guess I can see why she thinks it’s creepy down here. The floor is mostly dirt, and there are cobwebs everywhere. The single dim bulb barely throws enough light to see, and makes dark shadows in several spots.

Locating the fuse box, I shut down the one that says hallway/laundry.

Back upstairs, Bailey has removed those fuckin’ ridiculous monkey slippers and is standing in the hall in her bare feet. Standing next to her is the little girl I’ve seen with her sometimes.

“Hi. I’m Gage,” I say to the kid. Up close like this, I can see she’s a mini carbon copy of her mom, with brown eyes, pale skin, and a cascade of dark hair.

The girl looks up at her mom, like she’s not sure what to make of me. “I’m Addi,” she eventually murmurs back, dipping her head shyly. “Are you a repairman guy?”

“Not exactly. But I am here to fix your washer. Stand back.”

Addi takes a giant step back, like she’s playing a game of mother may I or something. It’s cute. I move toward the shallow hall closet where the washer and dryer are set into the wall. Addi and Bailey watch as I pull the washing machine away from the wall. I reach to flip on the light above it, momentarily forgetting the power’s off, but catch myself before I try to turn it on.

“Can you grab me a flashlight?” I ask Bailey. She disappears for a second and returns with a miniature one that fits easily into the palm of my hand. It does the job, though. After a cursory inspection, I see that the problem looks like a loose connector in the hose.

“Hey. Addi. Wanna help me fix this?” I ask the little girl.

She looks up at her mom again, who nods. “Okay,” she says, stepping forward a little.

I have her climb on top of the machine and show her where to shine the flashlight so I can see to tighten up the connector. Once she’s up there, Bailey disappears down the hall and lets us work.

The whole job only takes me a few minutes to do. Addi holds that flashlight with an expression of serious concentration, like her life is depending on it. I check everything else I can think of to make sure the connecter was the only problem, but I can’t find anything else.

When I’m satisfied, I help Addi get off the machine, push it back into place, and go downstairs to flip the fuse back on. I come back upstairs and go out into the kitchen, where the kid has joined her mom.

“Did we fix it?” the kid asks, giving me a shy but proud look.

“I think so.” I look at Bailey. “You should try running the machine again and see whether or not it leaks. But I’m pretty sure we got it.”

“Thank you so much, Gage.” She pulls in a breath and sighs. She’s taken off the apron she was wearing, and I can’t help but notice how full and lush her tits look, even under the loose T-shirt she’s wearing. “I’m so relieved. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been willing to help.”

Just then, the buzzer on the oven sounds. “Yay!” Addi yells. “Cookies are done!”

I realize as she says it that I can smell them baking. “I was in the middle of making Christmas cookies when Addi saw the washer leak,” Bailey explains with a smile. “I put this batch in while you were fixing it.”

She goes to the oven, pulls on two mitts, and takes out a batch of those cookies with the chocolate in the middle of them.

“Want to stay and have cookies and milk?” Addi asks.

“Well, I’ll tell ya, I’m not much of a fan of milk,” I say back. “But I’ll have a cookie, sure.”

Next to her daughter, Bailey raises an eyebrow. “You don’t look like the cookie type,” she says, amused.

If this woman’s kid wasn’t standin’ right here, I’d tell Bailey that the sweet thing I’d rather eat is between her legs. But because I’m not a goddamn animal, I just shrug.

“Who doesn’t like cookies?” I grunt.

“Right?” Addi grins. I grin back at her.

Bailey rolls her eyes good-naturedly and turns around. She grabs a glass from a cupboard near the sink, then goes to the refrigerator for a carton of milk. Pouring Addi a glass, she sets the milk in front of her, then pushes the rack of cooling cookies toward us. “Have at it.”

I wait for Addi to reach for one, then shoot my arm out and grab it before she can. “Hey!” she cries, giggling. I take a big bite out of it and raise my eyebrows at her in mock innocence. I don’t know what it is about this little girl that makes me want to clown around for her. I’m not much of a kid person, to tell you the truth. She rolls her eyes in an exact imitation of her mother, and reaches for the cookie beside it.

“Hey,” I murmur around my mouthful. “These are pretty good.”

“They’re my absolute favorite!” Addi says dramatically. She tilts her head back and lowers the cookie into her mouth, then take a bite and flings her arms out in an expression of ecstasy. I have to laugh.

Addi and I each eat three cookies, and then Bailey tells her she’s had enough. Addi whines but doesn’t push it too far.

“You can have some sugar cookies when they’re ready later,” Bailey promises.

“Can I help you make them?” Addi asks. This gets a tender smile from her mom.

“Of course you can. I’ll call you when I’m ready to start on them.”

“Okay!” Addi looks over at the kitchen table. “I’m gonna go in my room and make some more of the garland for the tree.”

“Thank you, honey.” Bailey kisses Addi on the top of the head, then gives her a playful swat on the behind. Addi pretend-yelps, then grabs some construction paper, a pair of scissors and a Scotch tape dispenser on the table, and heads for her room. “Bye, Gage!” she calls as she goes.

“See ya around, kid!” I call back.

“Well, that was quite a turnaround,” Bailey remarks mildly when Addi’s out of the room.

I pull my gaze from her kid and look at her. “Whaddya mean?”

“Just that you seem to have somehow improved my daughter’s mood.” Bailey frowns for a second, then sighs. “Thank you for being so good with Addi, Gage. The fact is, she’s had a rough past couple of days.”

“Why’s that?” It ain’t any of my business, but something in Bailey’s eyes tells me she wouldn’t mind talking to someone about it. She pauses, sucks her plump lower lip between her teeth for a second, and then sighs again.

“This is the first Christmas for her without her dad. We divorced earlier this year, and I think she’s really missing the traditions she remembers.” She shrugs, looking sad. “We lived in Pennsylvania before we moved here, so her dad’s far away. He hasn’t been very good about trying to maintain any sort of connection with her since we split up. I’m guessing just having someone other than me pay attention to her for a little bit — especially a male — made her feel a little better. A little more noticed.”

Huh. That explains why I never see a father coming to pick the kid up. “That sucks.”

“Yeah.” Her tone is bitter. “It really does suck.” Bailey shakes her head. “I think Addi blames me for it, to be honest. I’m the one who had to move Addi away from the city where we lived, because I needed to find work. But the fact is, her dad disengaged from her almost the moment that we split up. Garrett was the one who pushed for us to start having kids, but once it actually happened, I think he realized he liked the idea of being a dad more than the reality of it.” She swallows. “It was hard enough keeping him engaged in Addi’s life when we were married and living in the same house. Now? It’s practically impossible. Do you know, he actually forgot her birthday two months ago? I had to run out and buy her a present from him the day before, so she wouldn’t know.” Bailey abruptly stops talking, then shakes her head again and laughs. “I’m so sorry, I’m babbling. I’m sure you don’t want to hear any of this.”

“Actually, I do.” I don’t know why, but it’s true. I want to know more about this chick. And I want to punch the shit out of her ex. That kid doesn’t deserve this. She deserves a dad who isn’t an asshole. “Where is her dad?”

“In Cabo. With his flavor of the month.” Her voice is tinged with irritation, but I don’t get the sense it’s because she misses him. On the contrary.

“So it’s just the two of your for Christmas this year.”

“Yes.” Bailey nods and glances toward the living room, where a small, plastic tree is nestled in the corner. “It’s not quite what she’s used to,” she admits. “But I hope I can make it okay for her.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“What about you?” she asks suddenly. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Nothing.” I lift a shoulder. “I ain’t really into the holiday shit.”

Bailey looks at me in alarm. “You aren’t celebrating at all?”

“Nah. It’s no big deal. It’s just another day.”

“It’s not though!” She shakes her head rapidly. “It is a big deal.”

“Not for me. I don’t have any family. I’ll probably just work on my bike or something. Watch some football. I dunno.” Bailey looks so dismayed that I feel like I have to reassure her. “Look, I’ve been spending Christmases by myself for a long time now. I swear it doesn’t matter.”

Bailey stares at me. I swear she seems more upset about this than I am. Her lower lip slides between her teeth again as she considers my words, and the sight goes straight to my dick.

“Do you… I mean, would you want to come over here?” she blurts out. “For a meal? I bought too much food for Addi and me. I’m not used to it being just the two of us. It would sort of be paying you back for fixing my washing machine. And, honestly, I think it would be nice for Addi to have more than just me here.”

I should say no. God, should I say no. I meant what I said to her. Christmas doesn’t mean a goddamn thing to me. I want to fuck this woman, sure. Hell, if her kid wasn’t around it already would have happened by now. But I’m not interested in playing daddy to a single mom and her kid, even for a day. Even if the mom is sexy as hell and the kid is sort of okay as kids go.

But for some reason, as I stare at that lower lip she’s biting, the refusal I’m about to give her dies in my throat, and something else comes out of my mouth instead.

“Sure,” I hear myself say. “What time do you want me here?”