Chapter 11
Leo
I press my finger to the doorbell and glare down at my grimy fingernails. It seems I only notice how dirty my nails are when I’m standing on her doorstep. My clothes are no better. Stained with paint and smelling of varnish after a long, hard day. Suddenly, I wish I’d slipped on a clean shirt after work.
When I’m around her, that’s the only time I even care how I look.
It’s my first day leaving Brent with my neighbor and I’m anxious to see what state I’ll find them in. Honestly, it’s not Reese I don’t trust. I know that my boy can be a handful. That’s why I was hesitant to take her up on her offer to watch him after school. I just hope he didn’t run that beautiful girl into the ground. Let’s see if he gets an invitation to come back tomorrow.
She pulls open the door and looks up at me from under her long, dark lashes, batting her eyes at me like I’m that suit-wearing fucker from Fifty Shades of Grey. Somehow, she doesn’t seem to see the grime and smell the chemicals and sweat on my skin.
“Hey…” she says all breathily.
In that moment, it hits me—she likes me. How did I not realize it before?
I can’t plead ignorance any more. I can’t pretend that I don’t know she’s interested in me. And I actually like it. It does something inexplicable to me. In the midst of all that’s going on in my life, it’s nice to have something pure and simple. She likes me…
I hate admitting to myself that I like her, too. I’m not in a place in my life where I can focus on being with a woman in any serious kind of way. I’m very aware of that. I just came back from the warzone and moved across the country. My divorce is working its way through the courts and my kid is still trying to figure out what to make of it. I don’t have time for a new woman.
But her eyes on me feels good…like having the sun on my skin after far too many cold days. And when she smiles, it unlocks a strange sort of possessiveness in my chest. I don’t want her sharing that pretty smile with any other man. I want that smile all to myself. I must be losing my mind because wanting her is wrong. I’ve already established that. So why does my brain insist on pushing the issue?
I yank myself back into the present. “Hey…”
My gaze bumps down her face, exploring her bold features—the bright eyes, the prominent cheekbones, the bone-straight bridge of her nose—before lingering on those damn full lips. My mouth salivates for a taste of her.
She’s wearing a simple white blouse that ends mid-thigh and gray capris. Her feet are bare, the neat little toes painted in a deep red shade. Her thick hair is pulled back gracefully with little clips and falls over her shoulders. She looks so pristine. I just want to put my filthy hands on her. Smear her skin with my dirt-stained palms. Slide my grubby fingers into her hair until it’s tangled. I want to rub my pain all over her and let her take it away.
I immediately feel guilty for the thought.
Chastising myself inwardly, I try to shepherd my thoughts into neutral, neighborly territory. I try. And I fail. Because she’s so fucking beautiful and distracting. Utter temptation. I find myself thinking of the way my fingers skimmed her breasts the other day. The way she’d shivered at my touch. The way her pupils had dilated. I can’t help but wonder what she must have been—
A little boy bounds down the hall and swerves right around her. “Daddy! Daddy!” He leaps on me and climbs me like a tree.
I blink hard, barely even recognizing my own child. My unbelieving eyes shoot to Reese. “What did you do to my son?!”
Her eyes go wide and she winces, taking a quick step backward. “Uh…I…”
I shake my head, feeling embarrassed by my outburst. I’m just a bit shocked right now. “I’m sorry—that was rude. I just mean, this isn’t the kid I dropped off at preschool this morning.”
Brenton’s overlong hair is parted down the side and combed neatly. I think there might even be some hair gel in it. His face is clean. His nails are trimmed. His clothes are washed.
He smells like fabric softener!
Reese’s cheeks grow red. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have. It’s just, I had to give him a bath because he was covered in mud when I picked him up from school. Then he got to playing in the tub and he really wasn’t ready to get out so I decided to wash his clothes while I waited. And when he was done bathing, I wasn’t sure what to do with his hair. At first I brushed it back off of his face but then he sort of looked like Scott Disick and I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with that. So, I—”
I stick out a hand to calm her. “Reese, it’s okay. You did good. Thank you.”
“Really?” she squeaks out. She traps her lower lip between her teeth. I struggle not to be sidetracked by the maddeningly sexy gesture.
I bob my head. “Really.”
She hesitates for a moment then lets out a sigh of relief.
I have no clue who the hell Scott Disick is. All I know is that my kid looks like he tumbled out of a Target catalogue. It’s a bit disorienting.
Reese blushes as I look her over with fresh eyes. The girl is a modern day Mary Poppins. I just want to pin her to the wall and fuck the sweetness right out of her.
I’m a deranged fucker.
Setting aside my crazy imaginings, I turn my attention to my son. “Hi buddy! Were you a good boy for Reese today?”
He twists his mouth to the side and glances at Reese over his shoulder. She tips her head back and laughs.
I get a glimpse of her slender neck at the collar of her blouse. I imagine pulling her hair back roughly for better access to that long, sexy column. Running my mouth along the sensitive flesh, bruising her with my stubble.
Jesus! I’m getting hard.
She smooths down the boy’s already-smooth hair and looks at me. “He wasn’t that bad.” She winks at him and he grins. His secret is safe.
I’m too tired and distracted by my inappropriate thoughts to interrogate them. Besides, they’ve already teamed up and I know that my questions won’t get me answers, anyway.
“So, can I count on you to pick him up tomorrow?” I ask hopefully.
“Of course.” Her voice is so soft, so melodic.
A weight rolls off my shoulders. “Thanks, Reese. I really appreciate it.” I hoist the child up on my hip.
“No problem.”
We linger in the doorway for a beat. My eyes explore her face again and then her body. She’s watching me, too. At this point, I think we’re past pretenses. With soft, knowing smiles, we check each other out openly. Damn—the girl is cute. I push against the list of reasons why I shouldn’t be looking at her this way. As long as I don’t touch, it’s all good, right?
When Brenton wiggles in my arms, Reese breaks the gaze and says, “Let me go get his lunchbox.” She walks down the hall and I see a hint of her wide hips despite her loose shirt. I could watch those hips sway forever.
A moment later, she returns with Brent's bag in one hand and a small cloth bag in the other.
“We had roasted potatoes and chicken for dinner. Thought you’d like some.”
The smell reaches out to me even as I try to resist her offer. “Reese, I really don’t expect you to cook me dinner. You’re helping me a ton by picking Brenton up from school and watching him until I get home.”
She speaks softly. “You’ve got to eat, Leo.” I imagine that voice saying so much more. Dirty words—right into my ear—as her body clenches beneath mine.
"You've already been so good to us. I don't want to take advantage."
She laughs. I love that sound. "You're not taking advantage. It’s my pleasure."
Pleasure.
The word slides along my limbs and settles in my crotch. What the fuck?! I grow even harder. I set Brent back down on his feet just in case my knees let out.
“Fine,” I say. My shoulders relax as I take the food from her. “Thank you.”
A wide grin splits her face in half and her eyes gleam like precious gems as she looks at me. "What?" I ask self-consciously. Is she laughing at the paint in my hair? Do I still have cement dust on my forehead?
"You're smiling today," she says quietly. "It’s…nice."
My ribs tighten. I haven’t had much reason to smile in a long time. My lips spread wider now that she’s mentioned it.
Brenton waves animatedly as he turns down the stairs. “Bye, Reese!”
She giggles. “Bye, Brenton. See you tomorrow…” I hear the hesitation before she says, “Bye, Leo.”
I glance back at her. She stands there with that expectant stare. “Bye, Reese.”
Amusement spills onto my face. My mouth curves again.
A strange realization strikes me—this smiling thing is starting to become a habit.