I nod. “Thanks. Oh, don’t forget the chicken, and can you remove the door stopper on your way back up?”
He just salutes me as he passes me by and I stand, watching as Jacob helps himself to my phone from inside my bag.
“I think not,” I say, kneeling. “Can I have that please?” Holding out my hand, he looks at my open palm and then at my face.
“No.”
How is it possible to look like butter wouldn’t melt is beyond me.
“Please,” I ask again in what is likely a futile attempt.
I hear an echo of a laugh as Nathan brings in the rest of the bags.
“Any ideas on how to get that back?”
“Jacob, you hungry?”
The phone is discarded in an instant as Jacob comes bounding towards Nathan. He unzips his bag and pulls out a Spaghetti Bolognese Toddler’s meal and a spoon, setting it on the table.
“Do you need me to warm it up?” I ask.
“Please.” He flips the meal over to read the back cover. “One minute and forty seconds will do it.”
I take it from him and remove the card sleeve and pierce the film, popping it into the microwave. And then start packing away the frozen food. I might not be able to bake, but I can cook, and this party food is perfect.
The microwave beeps and Nathan comes over to get the Bolognese out and gives it a stir.
I glance over to the table where Jacob is boosted up on a cushion in one of the chairs, his children’s cutlery at the ready and wearing a flamingo bib with a spill pocket.
“Sorry, this might get a little messy,” Nathan says as he makes his way to Jacob.
By the time I’ve unpacked, microwaved some rice, and cut up the chicken, Jacob is just finishing off some kind of chocolate pudding. But it seems as though Nathan is wearing most of it on what used to be his pristine white t-shirt. I fold my lips between my teeth to stop from laughing.
“Well, I think it’s safe to say it’s ruined,” he says, glancing down at his shirt.
After wiping Jacob’s hands and face with baby wipes, he sets him down and pulls out one of his books, handing it to him, which he immediately puts in his mouth. Nathan shakes his head in amusement, a deep chuckle rumbles from his chest and coats my skin. I’m entranced as he grabs the neck of his t-shirt and lifts it straight off his body, folding it over so the mess from Jacob remains contained.
If it weren’t for the fact Jacob was here, I’d think it was some cliche ploy so he could strip, and I’d stick it in the wash like some cheesy nineties porn movie.
I pull myself from my thoughts and slide over a plate to him and then start laughing. It’s a nervous laugh, one hidden behind the vision before me of his ripped torso, and it’s taking everything in me to stop my open appraisal.
“What?” he asks when I pass him a knife and fork, but all it does is make me laugh harder. He tugs on my wrist that’s holding out the cutlery, and I end up falling into his lap.
He grips my waist to steady me, making me laugh harder. I try to wiggle free.
“Oh, someone is ticklish,” he says, and I think he’s about to use that to his advantage, but when I’m met with something hard digging into my thigh, we both freeze.
Then, in one fluid movement, he lifts me off his lap and steadies me on my feet. His pupils are dilated, his nostrils flaring as he swallows hard.
ChapterSeventeen
NATHAN
“I, hmm, shit, Vi,” I say, glancing at Jacob, but he’s engrossed with playing with one of his toys he’s pulled out of his bag.
Violet grabs her plate and sits opposite. “You’re gorgeous, Vi. I don’t know what to say, except I’m weak. I’m sorry?”
I don’t mean for it to come out as a question, but I’m not sure I am, in fact, sorry. I scrub my hand over my face. That sounded wrong. Fuck, I’m not helping.
