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“How can I help?” Michael asked, rolling up his shirt sleeves.
Bex handed him the bananas and a fork. “Mash these.”
He got to work, and she tried not to notice the muscles rippling in his forearms. Every time he moved it was like watching arm porn. Her mouth went dry. He shifted closer to her, and she had to physically stop herself from leaning into the side of his body. They worked in tandem. She added the banana into the mix and handed him the spoon, sighing when he stirred like a pro, his toned forearm, dusted with dark hair, looking very much like something she wanted to sink her teeth into.
Was this what it would be like to make breakfast every day with a partner?
The thought struck her from out of the blue, and knocked the air from her lungs. If she’d worked things out with Wesley, could they have had a lifetime of making pancakes on Sunday mornings and wanting to jump each other in the kitchen? Because with the way Michael glanced at her every now and then, eyes hot, she had no doubt he was experiencing the same yearning.
Shaking the thought out of her head, she poured batter into a pan. Michael assumed control of cooking the pancakes while Bex and Izzy cut them into shapes with Izzy’s cookie cutters and drizzled maple syrup over the top. When they were all seated on the ground around the mini table, it occurred to her that she couldn’t recall a more blissful morning. Her knee bumped Michael’s, and their eyes met.
This is nice, hers said.
I want to touch more of you than decency allows in front of a five-year-old,his replied. They were remarkably eloquent.
“Do you like uni-cats?” Izzy asked, interrupting their silent exchange.
Michael’s eyebrows shot up. “I beg your pardon?”
“Uni-cats,” she repeated, shoveling pancakes into her mouth. “They’re cats with a unicorn horn. They do magic, and some of them look like lions or tigers.”
Michael nodded thoughtfully, and continued cutting his pancakes into precise squares, which he chewed one at a time, driving Bex absolutely nuts. Did the man do anything he hadn’t planned out carefully? “I’ve never met a uni-cat, so I couldn’t say. You’re more of an expert than me; what do you think of them?”
Izzy beamed, and the sight of her daughter directing her best smile toward the object of Bex’s naughty fantasies caused her insides to fizz happily. She gulped down a mouthful of water in a bid to extinguish the sensation, then served herself a small portion of granola and poured milk over it from the carton in the center of the table.
“I want one for a pet,” Izzy told him. “But Mum says they live on a special island that humans can’t get to. But maybe I could have a boring old normal cat instead.” She grinned at Bex hopefully, and Bex couldn’t help but laugh.
“We’ll talk about it when you’re older,” she said, then explained, for Michael’s sake. “This is an ongoing negotiation. Izzy promises she’ll look after a cat, but I bought her a cactus for a trial run and you know how long it survived?”
Izzy dropped her chin.
“Well, Iz?”
She mumbled something.
“It lasted three months,” Bex said.
“I see.” Michael’s mouth twitched like he was fighting a grin. “I hate to say it, but I agree with your mum, Izzy. Everyone knows you can’t have a cat until you can keep a cactus alive for at least six months.”
Izzy deflated. “Six months?”
Bex nodded sagely. “Chin up, you made it halfway. You’ll get there next time.”
She didn’t actually have anything against getting a kitten, except that it was another mouth to feed and keep healthy, but knowing how much she and her parents let Izzy twist them around her finger, she didn’t want her daughter growing spoiled. If she had to work for a kitten, she’d appreciate it more.
“I can have another cactus?” Izzy asked.
“Yes, we can choose a new cactus later in the week.”
Topic closed, they moved on to others, such as Izzy’s favorite toys, which she paraded for Michael to admire, and which uni-cat was the strongest. Izzy was a staunch believer in the power of the lynx-icorn, despite it being half the size of the other types.
Bex and Michael washed up while Izzy packed the dishes into the cupboards—at least, as far as she could reach. When it was time for Michael to leave, they walked him to the exit, where Izzy launched herself into his arms for a hug. Bex had to laugh. Her daughter wasn’t shy about sharing her affection, a fact she hoped wouldn’t get her hurt in the future.
“See you next time,” Michael told Izzy, putting her back down and ruffling her hair. “I need to speak to your mum alone for a minute. Do you think you could race to your bedroom without her?”
Izzy looked to Bex for confirmation, and she nodded. Whatever Michael wanted to say, she’d rather Izzy not hear it. “Go on, honey.” Footsteps pattered away, and she leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms over her chest. “What did you want to talk about?”
Michael’s lips thinned, and he sighed and tugged at the ends of his sleeves. “I don’t want to ruin this truce we have going, but I really think you should consider telling Wesley the truth.”
