Chapter 13

 

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You know how sometimes big corporations will swoop in and make a huge offer to buy some start-up company a guy just created in his spare time?

But then the start-up owner turns the corporation down. His company is his baby that he once nursed to life—and he’s not willing to give it up.

That guy?

That’s not me.

I can’t help thinking that as I sit at my desk this morning.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the distraction of work right now. I’m not used to being up at night with a woman on my mind unless she’s sharing the bed with me.

So with a boatload of updating to do on my website and app with this quarter’s advertisers, I should be happy to do what they say guys do best:

Compartmentalize.

Put thoughts of Annie aside and focus on work.

But that crap they tell you about men being able to compartmentalize is just that. It’s crap—something they write about in a bestseller and laugh all the way to the bank.

So even while I’m sitting at my desk taking care of the needs of my baby—which is essentially paying my portion of the mortgage—Annie is still on my mind, making me wish even more that I could pass off this business to someone else.

I have fantasies that some huge online rental conglomerate will call me up and say they want to snatch up my site and set me up for a very early retirement.

I’d say yes, by the way. I’d say it because of the same hatred for sitting behind a desk that drove me to sign away years of my life to the Army. I hate desks and come down with a fleeting case of restless legs syndrome every time I sit here. And that syndrome is amplified by the fact that there’s one other appendage on my body that’s even more restless, seeing as it didn’t get the activity it desired last night.

Because, let’s face it, Rosy Palm and her Five Sisters aren’t a suitable replacement for a girl who tastes like my best fantasy.

Half of last night, I was kicking myself because seriously, finger-fucking her on the beach was not my intention. But the heat of her—how that silky smooth path up her inner thigh sizzled under my touch—my hands couldn’t resist. And then when I felt how slick she was… well, hell, not making her come would have been cruel of me. Right?

Right?

At least that’s what I’m telling myself. Fact is, she hasn’t returned my text yet and it’s been sixteen minutes—not that I’m counting—and I’m hoping she doesn’t bail out on our plans tonight.

Only because I’ve already told Stella she’d be coming with us and she’s excited about that.

Because I’m only concerned about Stella.

Liar.

My phone buzzes on my desk and I reach for it before it even makes it halfway through the chime sequence.

It’s Annie. Thank God.

(For Stella, of course.)

“Six is fine,” she writes. “But are u sure u don’t want me to just meet u there?”

If I were my old self, I’d wait at least an hour before replying. Rule number six in the dating world is that you should never let a woman think you’re going to jump to reply to every text she sends you. You’d be creating a monster.

But I don’t wait.

“No. I can drop off Stella and my brothers will put her to bed. I’ll drive u back to your place in Kona.”

Where I can put you to bed, I want to add. But of course, I don’t. Hell, I don’t even know if that’s a sure thing. Even though she was thoroughly primed last night, women are fickle creatures, and I’ve learned to go with the flow.

“K. I’m in unit 101,” she replies, attaching Google directions of how to get to her apartment building.

When I hear the door open downstairs and the clang of keys hitting the counter, I head to the kitchen to see that my two sweat-covered brothers have returned from our condo’s gym.

“Hey guys.”

They glance over at me, and Dodger looks at his watch. “Stella’s at preschool already?”

“Yeah. I had to drop her off a little early because they’re doing a field trip.”

“Where to?”

“The seahorse farm.”

“Shit,” Fen curses shaking his head.

“What? What’s wrong?” My usual danger radar when it comes to all-things-Stella immediately fires off a ping.

“Nothing. But did you ever notice how her field trips are so much cooler than ours were when we were kids?”

I had noticed, though I don’t bother answering. She’s a great kid and if anyone deserves a dose of paradise in her childhood, it’s her.

I lean against the counter as they both chug their Gatorades. “Listen, I need a favor.”

They dart each other oh-shit expressions.

“What’s with the look?”

Dodger’s brow creases. “Last time you asked us for a favor, we wound up with a four-year-old roommate.”

“Yeah. Who’s coming to live with us now? The inn’s full, bro.”

“It’s nothing like that. I’m just taking Annie and Stella out to a luau tonight. And when I drop Stella off here afterward, I was wondering if you’d be okay watching her until morning.”

“And where the hell are you planning on sleeping?” Dodger crosses his arms in front of his chest like he’s my dad or something.

“At Annie’s,” I say, even though it’s painfully obvious.

“And she knows this?”

“No, she doesn’t know it. And I don’t know it either. But since I’ve got a kid to take care of, I wanted to clear it with you guys first, just in case.”

Fen snorts. “How responsible of you.”

“Thanks,” I say, mirroring his sarcasm.

“No.” Dodger’s response is so simple, so direct, it leaves me no recourse but to whine.

“Come on, man.”

He splays his fingers out in the air in front of him. “Let me get this straight. You get a kid. You get a babysitter for her. Now you want to leave the kid with us so you can fuck the babysitter.”

Putting it that way, it does sound a little shitty. “Yeah,” I say cautiously as Fen bursts out laughing.

“So I repeat. No. No way.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re just saying that because you want Annie for yourself.”

Amusement lights Fen’s eyes. “He’s got you there.”

Dodger takes a last swig of his Gatorade and tosses it into the recycle bin. “Yeah. Maybe I do think I’d be better for her than you. I see you go through women like they’re latex gloves.”

Fen cackles. “Something only a doctor would say.”

“You know it’s true, though. And Annie isn’t some one-night stand. She’s… a sweet girl,” Dodger adds, his strange pause making me raise an eyebrow in his direction.

“She’s off limits.” I warn him off.

Dodger raises his hands. “Off limits. Right. At least for now. Till you figure out she’s too good for your sorry ass.”

I take it as a threat, and suppress the urge to plant my fist in his face—even playfully. Besides, I’m struck by a wave of curiosity. “Why do you like her?”

“You mean other than that she’s cute, has her head screwed on right, and likes kids?” His brow hikes up an inch on his face, as if no other reason is even necessary. “She lets Stella win at Chutes and Ladders.”

“What?” Fen and I ask in unison.

“I’ve watched her play it with Stella. A couple times when they’d finish up a game just after I get home, you know? And she always lets her win.”

“Didn’t know that was the true measure of a woman,” I ponder.

“Me neither,” Fen agrees.

“Well, it’s refreshing, you know? After the way we were brought up. Hell, no one ever let us win. We had to prove ourselves. Like we were Dad’s only chance to prove that our branch of the family tree wasn’t—I don’t know—made up of a bunch of morons, I guess. Dad was always kicking himself for selling Uncle Jake his shares of JLS when Grandpa died. And he looked to us like we were supposed to excel somehow, surpass our cousins, make a big name for ourselves so that he didn’t feel like such a failure.”

Leaning against the counter, I take in the image of my oldest brother.

His eyes meet mine, then move to Fen’s. “What? Didn’t you guys feel that?”

“Not as much as you, apparently.” Fen shrugs, then turns his attention to me. “Look, I’ll watch Stella.”

“You will?” Dodger and I both ask.

“Yeah. Stella’s an easy keeper. But I get first dibs on your kayak for two weeks.” He considers thoughtfully a moment. “And I get it regardless of whether or not you come home tonight.”

Damn. I love my clear kayak and was hoping to take Annie on it one day while Stella is in preschool. But if I know Fen, he’ll be using it every minute he’s not at work. “Deal,” I say reluctantly.

We grip fists in that way brothers do before he grins at me slyly. “Dude, your bargaining skills suck. I would have done it for one week with the kayak.”

I smile back. “And I would have given it to you for three.”