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He pressed a finger against her lips. “If we never make it to a bed, then I’ll take this memory with me.”
Addy closed her eyes, accepting this might be the only memory she’d have to play over and over in her mind. “Okay.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Addy looked up. “I owe you tea, Mr. Finlay.”
A flash of teeth in the light of the moon. “I’ll look forward to receiving that payment, Miss Toussant.”
She figured he wasn’t talking about the same kind of tea she was.
Lucas walked out, moccasins sloughing against the tile and cold night air blasting in as he closed the door, leaving Addy to wonder if the moment had actually occurred… leaving her to wonder about his statement about making it to a bed.
She had no answer.
So she dumped out his cold tea and trudged back up the stairs to her empty bed.
Lucas eyed the bathroom door before refocusing on the magazine sitting in his lap.Modern Parentingsucked as bathroom reading material, but he’d forgotten to grab one of his photography magazines before locking himself in. He wasn’t actually using the bathroom so much as escaping from Charlotte and her bevy of tea-swilling dolls.
Jeez, you play dolls with a kid once and you’re tied up for hours. Charlotte’s preschool had parent-teacher meetings every afternoon for the rest of the week which meant no after-care Tuesday through Friday, which meant no free afternoons for Lucas. He’d spent the last few hours making burnt grilled cheese, playing “house,” and begging Charlotte to take a nap.
As a last resort, he’d locked himself inside the master bathroom for a moment of peace.
The door rattled and he glanced at it again. Sure enough four little fingers wiggled into the space between the bottom of the door and the door jamb.
“Uncle Wucas, you have to come out,” she said in a muffled singsong voice.
“Uncle Lucas is going potty,” he said, shaking his head at using those words. Who had he turned into? Potty? Dear Lord, he was a changed man.
In more than just his language.
What he’d experienced the night before in the neighbor’s kitchen had cemented what he already knew—he had a bad case of the hots for Addy Toussant. And it wasn’t merely about how incredible she felt in his arms. It teetered on something bigger. Something that scared the hell out of a solitary man such as he. He was a man who had planned to live out his life in blessed bachelorhood.
Not that he didn’t like company of the female variety at times. He did. But the way he gravitated toward Addy had him worried. Like maybe he should dig in his heels a little and slow down. After all, he was going home in a few days’ time. Maybe being around kids and a cluttered house had him reaching for something pleasurable, maybe it had him convinced he felt something he didn’t.
“Uncle Wucas?”
“Charlotte, go feed Baby Carrie a bottle and put on a new pot of tea. I’ll be out in a minute.” He glanced at his watch. And then glanced at it again. Was it already 3:00?
Oh, crap.
“A wady’s here.”
Lucas scrambled off the closed lid of the toilet, dropping the magazine—dogeared on the page with advice on to deal with troubled teenagers. “Who? Go find your shoes. We’re late to pick up your brothers.”
He slid the chain from the door and opened it slowly because Charlotte’s fingers were still beneath it. He glanced down to find her lying on her stomach wearing a tutu. When she tilted her face to his, bright red lipstick smeared it. Then he saw the lipstick streaking the beige carpet.
“Holy sh-” he breathed, catching himself at the last minute. “Uh, where did you get that lipstick?”
“It’s Mommy’s. I weared it for the tea party, but it dropped on the rug. I cweaned it,” the child said, hopping up, waving a hand towel smeared with more red makeup.
“Christ, Charlotte. Give me that,” he said, grabbing the guest towel and swiping at her face. She ducked and bobbed. “Okay, later. Give me your hand. We’re late.”
The little girl’s lip wobbled, but she did as bid. Lucas had no idea how to clean up red lipstick. Maybe he better call a carpet cleaner and make an appointment. But first he had to pick up Michael and Chris.
Dear Lord, please let me be able to fasten the car seat in minimal time. And let there be no traffic. And all stop lights on green.
“What about the wady?” Charlotte asked.
