Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
She wrinkles her nose. “Ew. Yours will need to be washed again. Who knows what some weirdo could be doing to them?”
“I hadn’t thought about that, thanks.”
“Dong, no!” one of the boys cries out.
Blair races into the kitchen and I follow. When I get there, I see it was Eli who scolded the cat. Dong is frozen in place on the kitchen island, his paw midair. There’s something white on his nose and his paw.
“Dong!” Blair throws her arms in the air. “Are you serious?”
He jumps down from the island, unconcerned. Blair picks up a glass pan and moves it beside the sink.
“The cake?!” Coop cries. “What happened?”
“Dong put his foot and his face in it, so we can’t eat it now.”
“Bad Dong!” Coop glares at the retreating cat.
Blair meets my gaze and we both burst out laughing.
“It’s not funny!” Eli says. “We spent two hours making that cake.”
“I know,” Blair says. “But we can’t eat it now.”
“It looks like you guys did a great job, though,” I say. “What kind of cake is it?”
“Red velvet,” Eli says.
I set the pizza boxes on the island. “Guess we better keep these closed when we’re not getting pizza out of them.”
“We watched your game,” Coop says.
“You did?”
“That guy punched you and then you punched him three times!”
I give Blair a quick apologetic look. “Fighting is part of hockey, but I never fight outside of games.”
“What if someone kicks you in the nads?”
“Cooper Alexander!” Blair’s jaw is practically on the floor. “Since when is it okay for you to talk like that?”
“You said it’s okay to say penis and vorgina.”
She closes her eyes, mortified. “I said when we’re talking about our bodies, we should always use the correct words, yes. But this isn’t one of those conversations, and nads is not a correct word.”
I cough to keep myself from laughing.
“Vorgina isn’t a word,” Eli says to Coop, his brow furrowed. “It’s—”
“Over!” Blair interjects. “This conversation is over. Let’s eat some pizza and then start our game, okay?”
When the boys are immersed in choosing the right pieces of pizza, I put a palm on her midback, meaning it to be a comforting gesture. But when her eyes immediately flick up to meet mine, I pull it away.
I can see the question she’s silently asking me: What are you doing?
We can’t be more than friends, and I shouldn’t have touched her. The look in her eyes wasn’t upset or accusatory; it was questioning.
Touching her in any way when I can’t say whether I’ll be living here in June and beyond is reckless. It’s giving her mixed signals.
I got the best news I could have today, but the timing sucks. I like Blair a lot, and nothing makes me want her more than seeing her be a good mom to her kids.
I’m not a guy with kinks, but I feel like one when I see Blair just being a mom and I get turned on. Not every mom is sexy. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever looked at a mom parenting and thought it was hot.
Blair, though, does it for me. She passes both boys napkins and they walk into the dining room. The Monopoly game is set up at the kitchen table.
She picks up a paper plate and opens a pizza box. I approach her, keeping my hands to myself.
“Sorry,” I whisper softly. “I didn’t mean ...”
She just looks at me, waiting. I clear my throat and say, “I shouldn’t have done that.”
A smile tugs on her lips as she whispers back. “It’s okay. I can handle your hand on my back.”
I arch my brows, unable to stop myself. “Anywhere else you can handle it?”
A smile lights up her face, and she flushes. My heart pounds like it does during a face-off in a game. If we were alone, this is where I’d lean in a little closer to make sure she wants me to kiss her.
“I’m done!” Coop flies into the kitchen, making Blair and me both scoot back a few inches.
“Let’s start the game,” Coop says, putting his paper plate in the trash.
“We haven’t had any pizza yet,” Blair says. “Give us a few minutes.”
She busies herself putting pizza on her plate, not looking at me. I don’t stop looking at her, though.
How could I? She’s wearing jeans and a lightweight sweatshirt, her hair loose around her shoulders. The jeans hug her curves. I can’t help thinking about how much I want to pick her up and put her ass on the island so I can take her jeans off and make her flush all over.
Beneath the proper mom, there’s a woman I’d love to see more of. I can’t, though. I can only spend time with Blair when her boys are with us, because I don’t trust myself alone with her.
11
Blair
* * *