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“He wasn’t naked,” she mutters as she re-enters the kitchen. “I was afraid he was bare to his skin.”
“He does that, too?” I ask, because I didn’t sign up for naked kids.
“He likes the feel of it,” she says, shaking her head.
“And I get in trouble for sweats,” I mutter.
She makes a choking noise. “We aren’t talking about your sweats.”
The sound of her voice makes me think she thought about those sweats quite a lot after scurrying away last night.
“They’re great sweats,” I say, because I just don’t know how to quit. “Get a little tight sometimes, but I’m sure you noticed that last night.”
I’m not so crude as to go as far as hefting my junk, but only because that’s something an immature boy would do. I don’t want Kendall to think of me as a boy. I want her to treat me like a man, one that desperately wanted to sneak into her room last night, but instead of putting all three kids in one room so she could have some privacy, she set the girl up in her room. Maybe she did it because she was getting the vibe off me that having her here wasn’t such a bad idea.
I cringe as I sit down at the bar and watch her slathering peanut butter on toast. Those thoughts make me feel like a creep. I want the woman. There’s no arguing that, but I don’t expect sexual favors in return for giving her a place to land, especially after being the reason she got kicked out.
And sneaking into her room and nuzzling her neck seems a little inappropriate.
“You’re safe here,” I tell her.
She lifts her eyes to mine. “I wasn’t questioning it until you just said that.”
She rolls her eyes before going back to the toast.
“Is that for you?”
She huffs. “I wish. Knox’s latest thing is refusing to eat meat. So, it’s plant-based protein for him until he comes around.”
“Makes my throat threaten to close up just looking at it.”
She snaps her head back up at me. “I didn’t bring it into the condo. Are you allergic to peanuts?”
True concern screws up her pretty face, and for a split second, I consider saying I am just to see how accommodating she can be, but I didn’t get enough sleep to deal with the fallout when she finds out the truth.
“I’m not allergic, but I appreciate the consideration. It’s just a lot. Like, aren’t you afraid it’s going to get stuck? Like won’t it get lodged in his throat?”
She looks from the toast and back to me twice before frowning. “I wasn’t.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
Kendall proceeds to scrape half the peanut butter off the bread, scraping it back inside the jar. I take a deep breath to keep from saying something about the crumbs she just shoved back in there. I look away, focusing on the child-sized backpacks lined up on the dining room table instead. Maybe if I don’t think about it, I’ll forget.
“Mom, I need—” the oldest boy, holding great resemblance to his sister, begins as he walks into the room, but he stops when he sees me sitting there. His eyes narrow in my direction before he looks at his mom.
“Were you two talking?”
“No,” Kendall says as I shake my head. “What do you need, Kason?”
Kason and Knox. I can remember that. I’m a pro at names most of the time.
“I can’t find my toothbrush.”
“Give me a minute,” she says, and he walks back out of the room.
“He doesn’t like me,” I say.
“How do you figure?”
“I’ve never seen someone snap their mouth closed so quickly at the sight of me.”
“He’s been told not to walk into a room speaking because he could interrupt another conversation. He’s trying to be on his best behavior.”
“Sound advice,” I say, but I get the feeling that where Kason is concerned, it’s more than just having manners.
“I have to help Kayleigh,” she says as she drops the toast onto the plate she missed earlier.
The second I hear her bedroom door close, Kason comes back into the room, followed by his little brother. I watch as Knox sits at the dining room table. Kason grabs the plate of peanut butter toast and places it in front of his brother.
Kason then reaches for the hem of Knox’s shirt, and I expect the smaller one to throw a fit. I know I would if someone tried to strip me, but Knox lifts his arms, whispering a cute little thank you when Kason pulls the shirt free of his head. Kason drapes the shirt over the back of another chair before rounding the counter and heading back into the kitchen.
He opens the fridge and pulls out a half gallon of milk, placing it on the island before looking toward me.
“Bowls?”
I point to the cabinet, watching in awe as he climbs onto the cabinet with skill and grace.
