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After a couple seconds of silence as he takes in the smell and sight of me, Harry manages to say, “Uh…yeah.”
“I’m gonna take her into my room,” I say, standing back up with Avery in my arms. “It’s my bedtime, too.”
He’s openly staring, but instead of being offended this time, I feel…powerful. I can have the same effect on him that he has on me.
“Good night, Harry,” I say softly, walking away.
I see him swallow hard before he says, “Good night, Winter.”
Chapter Eleven
Harry
Setting my reading glasses on the desk, I stand up and walk out of my home office, stretching my arms as I make my way down the hall. It’s not even time for lunch yet, but I need a break.
Sunday has always been my day to catch up on work-related contracts and emails. Monday mornings are always filled with meetings, and I like to be up to date when a new week starts.
Today, though, my mind keeps wandering to Winter and Avery, who are in the living room. I heard a few laughs from Winter and a few cries from Avery, but other than that it’s been quiet. When I glance over on my way to the kitchen, I see Winter sprawled on the couch in another barely-there tank top and pair of shorts.
She never runs out. I swear she owns shorts and tank tops in every color of the rainbow, and she wears them just because she knows it drives me crazy. I’ve been slowly lowering the setting on the apartment thermostat, waiting to hit a temperature that will make her put on some baggy sweats and a sweater, but she hasn’t cracked yet.
Avery is sleeping in her swing next to the couch, and Winter is working on one of her crossword puzzles, glasses perched on her nose as she studies the page in front of her, oblivious to my presence.
I’m anything but oblivious to her, though. I have to force myself to look away from her and go into the kitchen, where I take stuff out of the fridge to make myself a sandwich. I load it all onto the kitchen island, trying to think about anything but the unbelievably sexy ball of fire on my couch right now. My dick is hard more often than not these days.
In the past few weeks, we’ve settled into a routine. We follow Winter’s chart for Avery, the first person up makes coffee and whoever’s not on Avery duty at bedtime makes sure all the bottles are clean.
Winter is working at the salon again, arranging her schedule so that she works in the evening a couple times a week when I can be at home with Avery. She ignores me as much as possible, which is fucking maddening.
I finish making my sandwich and sit down on a stool at the island, raising it to my mouth for a bite when Winter walks into the kitchen, her gaze still fixed on the crossword book in her hand.
With a little groan, she sets the book on the island and sees me sitting there when she looks up.
“Oh,” she says softly. “I didn’t hear you come in here.”
Today’s tank top is dark purple, a shade that looks good on her. I’m much hungrier for what’s standing on the other side of the kitchen island than I am for the sandwich in my hand, but only one of those things is an option.
“Just taking a break,” I say, biting into my pastrami on rye.
“You need a haircut,” she says as she sorts through the big basket of fruit on the island.
“The Nutter Butters aren’t in there,” I say. “Try the pantry.”
She shoots me a glare and walks over to the fridge, opening it. In the month we’ve been living together, I’ve figured a few things out about Winter Stevens. One of those things is that she likes to pretend she enjoys eating healthy foods and she does, but the primary food item in her diet is undoubtedly Nutter Butter cookies. I have two big packages delivered for her every week.
After taking out a bottle of sweet tea, she walks over to the pantry and takes out the Nutter Butters before looking over at me, daring me to make a comment.
I feel like I already won this round, so I just take another bite of my sandwich and keep my mouth shut.
“Your hair is practically in your eyes,” she says, taking a cookie out of the package.
I set my sandwich on the plate and wipe my mouth with a napkin. “I had an appointment to get it cut last week, but something came up at work and I had to cancel it.”
“Hmm.” She bites into her cookie, studying me as she chews. “You want me to do it?”
“What, cut my hair?”
She nods. My cock stirs with interest at the thought of Winter touching me, even if it’s only to cut my hair.
