Babysitting was harder than I remembered. And that’s probably because I’d never babysat in my entire life. Seventeen seconds after Brooke left me in charge of her offspring, they both stared up at me with these giant eyes and toothless, drool-filled smiles and I felt it. The expectation. All of a sudden, I was supposed to like, entertain them. Watch over them. Make sure they didn’t eat nails or glue or crack their head open on the edge of the fireplace.

How the ever-loving hell did Brooke make it through every single day without a panic attack?

Anything could happen to them. Anything.

Jacob crawled over to me and started smacking his chubby little hands on the tops of my steel-toed boots. My dirt covered, steel-toed boots. Could kids get e. Coli from my boots?

Those had come off first, much to his disappointment.

I hadn’t been to Brooke’s house since the day we all helped her move in, but I did remember which direction the bedrooms were in, so I hefted one kid under each arm and wandered down the hallway until I found the right one. I mean, that was probably the safest place for them, right?

If there was a room in the house that was the least likely that they’d get electrocuted or choke or get a concussion, it had to be their bedroom. The set-up had made me smile. Two bright white cribs flanked each wall, painted a neutral gray. Above each crib, Brooke had painted their names, Piper in bright aqua and Jacob in grass green.

She’d had the non-descript carpet pulled up to reveal some hardwood floor that had to be original, given the wood grains and the not-quite-perfect appearance of the varnish on top of it. Before I ended up on the floor doing kid-in-each-arm exercises, I ran my hand along the edge of the hardwood where it met the gray shag rug, a darker color than what she’d chosen for the walls.

In less than a year, she’d made this place hers. Unequivocally.

I knew it before, but when I looked up and saw her standing in the doorway, watching me dodge her daughter’s slobbery attempt at a kiss with bright-eyed amusement, it was even more evident.

While I sat up and eased Piper off of me, I laughed. “She’s a forward little thing.”

Brooke hummed, and the weight of her dark eyes was a heavy stroke along the back of my neck. “That she is.”

“I can’t imagine who she gets that from.”

With a scoff, Brooke came in the room and nudged my shoulder with her leg while she passed me. Jacob squealed happily when she scooped him up and sat in the gray rocking chair in the corner. Brooke lifted him up so she could see his face. “Were you a perfect gentleman, mister?”

His response was to grab a chunk of her dark hair and try to shove it in his mouth. We both laughed, but Brooke’s was tinged with more than a little embarrassment.

“They were great,” I told her truthfully. “You must be ripped as hell carrying them all day long.”

“Aww, is someone going to be sore tomorrow?”

Her teasing made me shake my head, but I was smiling. An easy silence fell between us, punctuated only by the grunts and squeals of the kids. Even though Piper was trying to climb up my back, I watched Brooke kiss along the length of Jacob’s arm. Considering the first time I saw her, she was really, really pregnant, it was no surprise that she was much thinner, even more so than at Cole and Julia’s wedding.

What did surprise me was that despite the obvious signs of tiredness, which I recognized easily, she looked happy. Her eyes, so dark brown that it was hard to decipher her pupils and surrounded by lashes that women would probably pay good money for, were bright and clear. Her forehead wasn’t pinched with worry, no weariness pinched the skin around her lips.

They were good lips, too. Pink and smooth, definitely kissable lips.

Stop it, stop it right now, Michael. If there was one person in my entire life that should be off limits, it’s Brooke.

“Does this happen a lot?” I asked, desperate to get my mind somewhere else.

At the same time, Brooke said, “You really didn’t have any plans today?”

We both laughed, the unexpected awkwardness of talking over each other making her cheeks pink and her smile widen. Why did she have to be so damn pretty?

Brooke tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, a short, fast movement that belied her nerves. “Sorry, go ahead.”

“The hair emergency. Does that happen a lot?”

Brooke closed her eyes and sighed, let Jacob climb off her lap in search of a toy that was underneath one of the cribs. “Not too often,” she said slowly and finally opened her eyes again. They were trained on me, and the intensity behind them tightened the skin on my chest. “I rent a chair at the salon that I work at, so outside of the days that I rent, it’s not available to me.” She shrugged. “It depends on the client, on the day and what I have going on.”

It didn’t seem like she was finished, so I waited, chucking Piper under her chin and making her laugh.

“I don’t mind clients coming here, honestly. It’s just whether someone can help out with the kids last minute.” When she glanced down at Jacob, I couldn’t see her eyes anymore and I felt like she was shuttered. Brooke’s eyes were what gave her away. It wasn’t in the set of her mouth or the fidgeting of her hands, it was her eyes. More than just about anyone I’d ever met.

“You hate having to impose on people.”

Her eyes snapped to me, quiet surprise written all over her face, especially in how her mouth popped into a small ‘o’ shape. She recovered quickly though, her face smoothing out. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“No. I know a lot of people who don’t give any thought to how their actions, their lack of planning, effects someone else.” I raised my eyebrows meaningfully. “Like calling your hairdresser on a Saturday afternoon when she’s got twins and asking for a special favor that puts her in a shitty position.”

Brooke’s laugh was husky and slow, like she didn’t mean to let the sound out of her mouth. If she’d caught it earlier, caught it before it slipped past her pink tongue and white teeth, it might have sounded like a harsh exhale. But it didn’t. I wanted to swallow that sound and see what it tasted like.

“Licensed cosmetologist.”

I blinked, wrenching my thoughts far, far away from things like tasting and laughs and lips. “What?”

“Don’t be such a misogynist. I’m a licensed cosmetologist, not a hairdresser.” Her mouth was flat, but her eyes. If she was closer to me, she would’ve reached out and slugged me playfully in the stomach, or smacked the back of my head. Playful Brooke was atomic bomb level dangerous.

I flopped back on the floor with a groan, hand slapped over my heart. “Such big words, I don’t know if I can handle it.”

Piper jabbered away, climbing up over my stomach, which made Brooke laugh again.

“I have to admit, it’s nice just walking out of the appointment and being able to see them.”

“Makes sense. Could you do this stuff more often?” I sat up, tickling the back of Piper’s neck while I did. Piper crawled away from me and headed toward her brother, who was munching away on the corner of a cardboard book.

Brooke scrunched up her face. “I wish. My setup is merda for it. I was able to get away with it today, but after a while, it would be too cramped.”

I twirled my finger in a circle in her direction. “Don’t get crazy with the other languages around me. What’s merda?”

Her lips quirked in a smile and she glanced at the kids before answering. “Shit in Italian. It’s how I manage to swear around them. I figure I’ve got at least another year before they start saying it around my parents and I get in trouble for corrupting the next generations of Rossis.”

I laughed. “Smart. Sorry, I’ll watch my language around them next time.”

This time, her eyes went speculative, weighing and measuring my words like I’d stuffed some hidden meaning into them. I hadn’t. It was just … something you said. It wasn’t that I didn’t have plans to see her again or anything. Then my mind backed up to what she’d said before.

“Did you ever finish that basement?”

Her eyebrows lifted briefly at my blurted-out question. “No, not yet.”

“There’s water hook-up down there, right?”

“Yeah,” she answered slowly. “Why?”

My thumb tapped against my thigh while my brain whirred. “Can I see it?”

“Did you hit the crack pipe while I was downstairs? I hope that’s not the case because I’d have to blacklist you for doing recreational drugs in front of the babies.”

I stood quickly and held out my hand to help her out of the chair. “No drugs, I promise. Just … just havin’ an idea.”

Brooke looked at an imaginary watch on her slim wrist, then glanced back up at me. “No date tonight? I’ve known you long enough to know that your Saturday nights are usually … spoken for.”

My phone had buzzed a couple times, but nothing that interested me. Instead of explaining myself to her, I simply shook my head. “My calendar is wide open.”

Like her question conjured it, my phone buzzed again with an incoming text and Brooke leaned forward to look at it where it was laying on the small end table next to the rocking chair.

Her lips curled up into a smile before she spoke. “Miranda from the doctor’s office is wondering why she hasn’t heard from you in a while.” Brooke quirked an eyebrow when I shifted uncomfortably where I stood in front of her. Taking pity on me, she handed me my phone. Her smile was amused, her eyes not holding the slightest hint of judgment, but I still felt like I’d done something wrong.

No matter that Miranda was someone that I’d shared two drinks with after meeting her in a waiting room, one heated kiss up against the wall of the bar, and some brief text flirtations, but that was it.

“I promise,” I said, holding my hand again. “No dates. I’ve got nothing that’s more important than this.”

After a brief hesitation, Brooke slid her hand into mine. Her fingers were cold and strong around my own, and she let go as soon as she was out of the chair. She set Jacob in Piper’s crib, then hefted her daughter up to place her in there next to her brother, handing them a couple books and a very complicated looking rubber toy/rattle thingy.

“You two play nice for a minute. I need to see what the crazy man is rambling about.”

“After you,” I said, gesturing toward the doorway and choosing not to respond to her dig. I followed Brooke down the hallway and through her kitchen. The bathroom off the kitchen was where she’d done the hair, and I briefly poked my head in to see how she’d done it. There was a small black plastic contraption with a hose running into the bathtub, which must be used for rinsing out the hair, and it was on wheels. But there wasn’t much room for Brooke to move around that or the chair.

“Are you going to explain any of this to me?” she asked over her shoulder while she opened up the door leading into the unfinished basement. “Watch your head, you’re tall enough to hit at the bottom of the stairs.”

She was right, and I had to dip down slightly in order to avoid a concussion, which I tended not to enjoy all that much. “That’s not very convenient,” I said under my breath as I tapped my palm against the wooden beam.

“What’s not?”

I perched my hands on my hips and looked around the open space, an identical layout to her upstairs, except it was only concrete and some wood framing on the walls, like someone had the stirrings of an idea to finish off the space but didn’t get very far.

“Michael,” she said firmly and I turned to her. Playful Brooke was one thing. But I’ve gotta say, Annoyed Brooke did things for me. Really, really good things. One hip was cocked out and her lips were twisted up over that stubborn chin. “Speak. Use your words.”

“Like a big boy?” I said quietly, gratified when she blushed furiously, instantly. I laughed and held up my hands in apology. “Have you ever thought about having an in-home salon? You’ve got the space.”

Her stance softened, but her chin didn’t drop. “I think every cosmetologist with kids has thought about it at one time or another. But I don’t have the right setup.” Her eyes tracked around the empty room, floor space only being taken up by some large plastic storage bins and a few moving boxes. “I don’t know that I’d want it down here anyway. Not unless it had a separate entrance.”

“Hmm. I can see that.” My fingers drummed against my leg. “Let’s go back up, I want to look at your mudroom.”

“It’s the laundry room too.”

“Even better.”

She went up the stairs ahead of me and I was such a good boy, I swear. No checking out her ass or anything. Not even once.

Okay. Once. But in my defense, it was spectacular in the pants she was wearing. I mean, come on, it was biologically imprinted into my masculine DNA that when a beautiful woman, whom I already found attractive, was directly in front of me, my eyes would just … go there.

I’d barely noticed that Brooke stopped until I almost ran into her. Her hand waved in front of her. “There you go. Fascinating stuff, huh?”

“Bingo,” I muttered. Just past the door leading into her two-stall garage was the laundry room. A pocket door next to me gave her the option to completely enclose it. The space wasn’t huge, and I instinctively reached for the measuring tape normally hooked to my tool belt, only to find my normal belt.

I looked back at her. “Look, if you moved your washer and dryer hookup downstairs, you could gut this room and turn it into a salon. It’s not huge, but…”

“But it wouldn’t have to be,” she finished, eyes taking in the room with guarded excitement. Then she shook her head. “I don’t know if I want to move my laundry downstairs though. That was a huge bonus about this house, that I didn’t have to go up and down a flight of stairs every time I needed to do a load, which is every single day now.” Brooke set her hand on my shoulder while she pointed to another wall, and I tensed at the unconscious contact. “But, maybe this could be extended out.”

I looked back at her. “There’s nothing on the other side of this in the garage?”

“No, just a small alcove for storage, but I don’t have anything there right now.”

We went and looked at the garage, and she was right, the wall of the laundry room could be blown out, and if you extended it to the outside wall of the garage, her room size would double. I started doing some quick calculations in my head while she went to check on the kids. We were heading into our slow season at work, not nearly as much new construction starting in the winter in Denver, at least not for us. Tristan kept busy with the custom furniture orders that he did on the side, but I didn’t have anything like that.

Me and inactivity was no bueno. Not at all.

Brooke came back and she was practically bouncing. “Do you really think I could do it?”

“Absolutely. You might need to get some building permits from the city since you’re altering the layout, but I could help you with all that if you want me to work up an estimate.”

Her bouncing slowed. “You’d do this?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“You’d build me a salon?”

“I mean, you’d have to pay me, but yeah.”

She rolled her eyes but still smiled. “I don’t know. This is a huge undertaking. I’d have to really think about whether I want to have my work here all the time.” One of the twins started crying and her eyes closed. “I need to think about it for a couple days.”

The thought that she might say no suddenly gave my stomach a desperate lurch. Don’t ask me to explain it, Lord knows I couldn’t have. But in that moment, I wanted her to say yes to this with a violent sort of determination that was completely foreign to me.

“You just said yourself that you loved seeing them as soon as you were done. You’d have complete flexibility in your schedule.”

Slowly, she lifted one eyebrow. “And you know so much about how I need to juggle a schedule?”

I rocked back on my heels and laughed under my breath. “I know a thing or two about single moms.”

Brooke snorted indelicately. “I’ll bet you do. They probably wanna eat you up.”

The flash of irritation at her assumption was eclipsed a hundred fold by the bright burst of embarrassment. Normally it didn’t bother me when my friends or brother thought I slept around indiscriminately, since I did nothing to dissuade them. But hearing Brooke casually toss that out, knowing that’s what she thought of me, was like she rammed a crowbar down my throat and expected me to be able to talk around the cold metal.

All but impossible.

Maybe another day, I’d explain about my own mother, that I knew exactly how hard it was going to be for her as her kids got older, as they ate more, as they got busier and busier. How as a young boy, I soaked up my mother’s stress like a dry sponge just so that I might try to alleviate some of it for her.

Not today though. Not after what she’d just said. Anything I said to contradict her would seem defensive or desperate, and I didn’t want her to see me as either thing.

So I cleared my throat and smiled at her, a tight stretch of lips that felt completely fake. “Well, I’d be happy to do the job for you, if you decide to go for it. I’ll work up an estimate, if you have a measuring tape I could borrow real quick.”

She held my eyes, clearly picking up on my shift in mood. After a moment, she nodded. “Sure. I’ll get that and then I need to go check on the kids.”

“Thanks.” I turned and started searching for outlets and water lines when I heard Brooke say my name again.

“I’m really glad it was you who came over today.”

This time, my smile felt easy, felt genuine. “Me too.”