“I’ve got some moves for you,” I said with a growl.
“You’re not my type.”
I slapped a hand on the door and walked away as Michelle called the kids inside for the evening.
Settling in for another long night, I went to the fridge and grabbed a beer. Winifred joined me not long afterward.
“Jim still breathing?” she asked with a smile.
Jim walked out of the bathroom just then.
“Always. Emmitt loves me.”
I rubbed a hand over my brow. “If you were so sure of that, why did you stay in there till Winifred came over?”
“It’s smart to play it safe.”
“Jim, I think you and I should go for a run,” Winifred said.
“Emmitt and I were going to watch a movie.”
It was a lie. However, Jim had mastered the art of lying so there were no telltale signs, and Winifred knew it, too. But, she shook her head and walked out the door without him. With a sigh, I sat on the couch.
Jim plopped down next to me. “You going to forgive me tonight or tomorrow?”
“Definitely not tonight.”
I heard a few laughs and giggles from upstairs, then everything went relatively quiet. The sounds of footsteps on the stairs not long after brought me to my door.
“This is so pathetic to watch,” Jim said quietly.
“Then, don’t watch.” I went back to peering into the hall. Sure enough, Michelle was coming down.
“Do you know where Nana is?” she asked, pointing at Winifred’s open door.
“She stepped out for a walk,” I said, easing the door behind me closed. Jim chuckled. “Did you need something?”
“I wanted to ask if I could borrow a book.”
“Come on,” I said, moving toward Winifred’s apartment. “She would insist you take your pick.” I went to the large bookcase. “She used to be a teacher, you know. She loves curious minds and reading.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking two books from one of the shelves. Romances. That was a good sign, right?
She gave me another one of her killer shy smiles then jogged back up the stairs.
Jim was gone from the living room when I opened the door. I fell onto the couch and tried to sleep. It took forever.
* * * *
The next day, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to tell Michelle the truth. There was even a perfect opportunity when the boys discovered Winifred’s paw print by the shed. But instead of telling Michelle the print was made by us, I told her the dog was friendly and the kids didn’t need to worry.
The rest of the afternoon I cleaned up the garage and kicked myself for the lost opportunity.
Thursday morning Winifred woke me early with a knock on the door.
“You need a distraction,” she said. “Your pacing is keeping me up at night.”
“Sorry. I was going to start working on the apartment upstairs today.”
“That’s a good idea. For her, right?”
I nodded.
“That’ll help. Focus on making it perfect for her. Just another way to win her over.”
She was right. After a quick shower, I went upstairs and got to work.
Knowing Michelle was sleeping right across the hall caused conflicting emotions. It eased a tension I hadn’t known I’d carried. But it almost made me want to be even closer. Michelle was my drug, and I only wanted more.
I heard the three moving around and listened as they went outside to play. With the windows open, every word the boys said reached me. Michelle was quieter, and her silence drove me crazy.
As the morning progressed, though, Aden seemed to get on Liam’s nerves. Thinking of Jim, I understood how that could happen. However, their bickering seemed to get on Michelle’s nerves, too. She never yelled at them, but the tension in her voice told the truth.
Around lunch, she brought the kids inside. I looked at the half-painted living room and kitchen, and wondered if she would like help with the boys more than a new place. Jim had gutted everything and used his job money to reframe an open-concept living room and kitchen, along with a bathroom. He’d kept the existing bedrooms but had knocked out the old lathe and plaster, and had re-drywalled, mudded, and textured everything. Then he’d quit.
There was no mystery why. Jim loved the rough work, not the finishing work. I didn’t mind the painting, though.
Listening to Michelle turn the TV on, I figured she had gotten the boys corralled so I kept working.
When they went back outside, the boys continued their light bickering throughout the afternoon. I didn’t realize how much it had bothered Michelle until Jim came home.
As he killed the engine, I quickly put the lid on the current can of paint.
“Rough day?” he called.
Michelle remained quiet as the truck door creaked open.
“Me, too,” I heard Jim say. “Want to go out for a drink?”
Hell, no. I left the apartment and hurried down the stairs.
Jim stood with a grin before I cleared the last step.
“Let me know if you change your mind,” he said, walking toward me as I stepped onto the porch.
I gave Jim a look that promised payback as he passed me.
“Gotta try harder,” Jim said under his breath.
Ignoring him, I looked at Michelle. “Want to watch another movie with me?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
I wanted to smile, until Jim turned on the shower inside and started to sing. Loudly.
“Let’s watch it upstairs,” I said.
* * * *
The next two hours were equally torture and bliss. She sat next to me and every time she moved, her scent wrapped around me tighter, until I stopped seeing the TV. I wanted to reach out and touch her, to wrap her in my arms and bury my nose in her hair.
I shifted on the couch and took several easy breaths to slow my racing pulse.
Before I was ready, the movie ended, and Michelle stood.
I fisted my hands to keep from reaching for her.
“I made grape drink at lunch,” she said, moving toward the kitchen. “Want some?”
I nodded, realizing I wasn’t the only one with issues.
“Were the boys that bad today?” I asked, moving to follow her.
She wrinkled her nose, and I grinned and wanted her more. She was too damn cute. And, she didn’t even know it.
“No. I’m just not used to being around them so much.”
That clue about her past stopped my amusement.
“How much time are you used to spending with them?”
Downstairs, I heard Jim ask Winifred if they could watch a movie. That meant Michelle and I would have time to talk.
She shrugged and turned to hand me a glass of purple, flavored water.
Did she even realize her eyes begged for understanding and help? She needed someone to watch out for her. I wanted that someone to be me. And I wanted her to want that, too.
Taking a leaf from Jim’s book, I reached up and smoothed back a stray piece of hair from her face. Her breath caught, and my gut clenched at the sound.
I watched for any sign of attraction in her gaze and saw her pupils dilate. Not the way I was sure mine were because I was so turned on by her, but in a vacant way, like they had on the fourth.
“Michelle?”
She didn’t answer.
Then, a second later, she was back. Her heart skipped a beat, and her breathing became erratic. I could smell a hint of worry, but mostly I smelled her interest. In me.