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If the question wasn’t so damn awkward for both of us, I would burst out laughing at the expression on Corinne’s face. She’s so conflicted on how to answer, it’s amusing. Like a total jerk, I smirk and wait to hear how she responds.
“Oh, uh, Brody and I have just been catching up,” she stammers, her cheeks flaming a deep red. “It’s been a while.”
“It’s been too long, Cori.” My mom’s gaze goes between me and Corinne, a knowing glint in them, but she says nothing more about it. “I’ll see you both later. And you, too, little Spence,” she adds before reaching hastily for her purse and jacket and heading out the door.
“Well,” Corinne pipes up the moment the door shuts. “That wasn’t uncomfortable at all.”
“I kind of forgot for a minute that you knew Mom pretty well,” I admit, turning to her. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay, I just...don’t want her to get the wrong idea.”
I’m still debating whether or not to comment on what exactly the wrong idea might be when Spencer’s wails grow in intensity, cutting off anything else I might say to that. “Hey, buddy, it’s okay. Shh,” I soothe him, but it’s no help.
Corinne steps closer to me, holding her arms out in askance. “May I?”
A shard of protectiveness pierces through me, but I nod, slowly transferring the baby into her arms. “He tends to scream long and loud when he’s hungry, which is undoubtedly—”
Within seconds, Spencer’s cries have diminished into a halfhearted series of whimpers and sobs, then eventua
lly into long, rhythmic sighs as he stares upward with huge blue eyes at the pretty woman who’s holding him like it’s the most natural thing in the world, rocking him gently and whispering that it’s okay, it’s all okay...
But it’s more than okay. Because up until that point, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as beautiful as Corinne when she’s holding my son. He’s just as awestruck by her as I am.
Damn.
I don’t give a damn how awkward it was just a minute ago, or how fucking hard I had to work to get her to agree to meet with me today, because this—this moment right here—is worth everything. And that is when it hits me like a ton of bricks.
I could fall for Corinne. Not my brother’s ex-girlfriend. Not the legal assistant at my lawyer’s office. None of that.
Corinne. Every sarcastic, brash, self-protecting inch of her. She’s scared of what she might feel, and I get that. She’s been through hell because of my brother’s selfish, lowdown ways. She has every right to be scared. So am I. For myself, and for Spencer.
But that doesn’t make me want her any less.
***
We get in the Explorer, but the moment we strap Spencer into his car seat and Corinne opens the front passenger door to climb in, my little boy starts to cry again. Corinne looks at me through the open door of the vehicle, then shuts it and retreats back to the back door again.
The moment Spencer sees her pretty features, his cries settle into a series of soft murmurs and whimpers.
“Someone’s got a crush on you, Corinne,” I laugh from the driver’s side.
She rolls her eyes, rounding the vehicle to climb into the backseat beside Spencer. “I’ll sit back here with him. Got to keep my admirers happy, you know.”
I’ve got a thousand cocky comments I could make, but since she’s appeasing my son, I swallow them down and only give her a knowing smirk. Or maybe the smirk is because I want her to know what I already know...
Spencer isn’t the only one developing a crush on this woman.
Corinne spends the next few minutes talking in a low voice, murmuring and cooing right along with Spencer in the backseat while I drive.
“What do you say we continue our coffee plans, Corinne? I can make a pot at my house, and we can chat once I get Spencer down for his nap,” I suggest. I know I’m taking a chance, and there’s a good chance she’ll shut me down, but I have to ask. I’m not ready to let her go just yet. “Unless, of course, you’d rather hang out with him instead of me.”
“I think your daddy’s getting jealous,” she croons, her eyes focused solely on the baby beside her. “But I never turn down a good cup of coffee with a handsome man.”
I catch her eyes in the rearview mirror as she looks up. They’re twinkling back at me. “I was talking about Spencer. Get over yourself, Brody.”
She laughs—loudly, I might add—quickly clamping her hand over her mouth as though it’s the most horrid sound ever uttered from her mouth.
“What’s wrong?” I chuckle, amused by her expression.
