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She’d just stepped over the line he’d drawn around himself and Delilah, to keep them safe and unhurt. He didn’t let anybody that he didn’t trust penetrate it. And he was pissed, really pissed that she dove head first into a place she didn’t belong.
“How many kids do you have?” he asked her, his voice tight.
She actually blushed. “None.”
“Uhuh.” He lifted a brow, refusing to break their gaze. She ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip, her own eyes unwavering. He felt a tingle of electricity at the base of his spine. Like his muscles were waking up from a deep sleep. He’d be enjoying this, if this woman wasn’t making him so mad.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked him, tipping her head to the side. Her eyes were fiery and so damn pretty. His gaze dipped to her mouth.
Then resolutely away.
Her chest rose and fell with her breath. He wasn’t going to look at it. He wasn’t.
“It means that I’ll only be taking advice from someone who knows what they’re talking about.”
Cassie’s mouth dropped open, but she said nothing. And thankfully Delilah came back into the reception area, two iced donuts carefully balanced in her hands. She was walking slowly, like she was afraid they’d fall out of her palms and onto the floor.
“I got pink ones,” she said, looking pleased with herself. She lifted her hands – already covered in pink frosting – and licked her thumb.
Okay, it was time to go. He didn’t have time to argue with this woman. He had things to do. “Thanks for taking care of her,” he said gruffly, taking the donuts from Delilah’s sticky hands.
“No problem.” Cassie’s voice was tight.
“It won’t happen again.” He’d make sure of that, even if he had to strap an alarm clock on every limb. Being told off by the teacher really wasn’t much fun. Especially when he knew she was mostly right, but he was too proud to admit it. He spent most days beating himself up. He didn’t really need her help with it right now.
Not even if she had curves he couldn’t get out of his mind.
“Can we eat them when we get home?” Delilah asked.
“After dinner. Say goodbye to Miss Cassie.”
Delilah did one better. She threw her arms around Cassie’s waist, taking her by surprise. “Thank you,” she said, still squeezing tight. “You’re my favorite teacher.”
And when she pulled back, Cassie’s cheeks were burning red. “Have a good evening,” she said to Delilah as she turned around to grab Lola.
And no, he didn’t look at her ass. Or see the sticky residue of Delilah’s hand marks on her lower back.
Because somewhere deep down, beneath the tattoos and the dust and the muscles, he was a gentleman. And gentlemen didn’t leer at their kid’s new dance teacher. No matter how long it had been since their hands had touched another woman. Because his daughter came first, always.
He’d promised himself that from the moment he became a widower.
“I can’t believe you forgot to pick her up.” His mom sighed over the phone. She and his dad were in Washington DC and she’d called to check in before the two of them went out for the night.
“I didn’t forget her, I was just a little late, that’s all.”
“Half an hour late, Presley. I’m surprised they didn’t charge you.”
He was finishing loading the dishwasher after dinner. Delilah was sitting in the den, fresh from her shower, wearing her favorite pink and white unicorn pajamas while she watched some cartoon he couldn’t remember the name of.
She’d fully recovered from him being late, but he hadn’t quite gotten there yet. The guilt nagged at him while they ate dinner, and he hadn’t wanted to eat the donut Delilah had snagged for him from the dance school. She’d asked if she could have it, but he’d shaken his head and put it in the refrigerator for another day.
Her diet wasn’t always the best, but dammit, he was trying.
That was the story of his life. He tried to keep everybody happy. Tried to keep a roof over his kid’s head. Tried to help her heal from losing her mom and tried to be both parents to her at the same time.
Tried and failed.
Yeah, he was in that kind of mood. He needed to snap out of it.
