Maxwell snorted, gently letting Shelley and Cameron down. Jill closed the bathroom door behind her before they could escape and then let Kevin join the commotion on the floor. The three of them protested the pending bath, but Maxwell started the bathwater anyway. Jill worked at getting them stripped out of their stained and dirty clothes, and soon their three naked butts were giggling and hopping around the bathroom while Jill and Maxwell just laughed.
“They always have a way of redeeming themselves,” Maxwell noted, squirting some soap into the bathwater so they could have some bubbles to play with.
“That’s the saving grace, right?” Jill lowered each toddler in turn into the water and then she and Maxwell sat on the wide ledge of the big jacuzzi-style bathtub, watching the kids play. It wasn’t long before Cameron sent a big spray of water right for Maxwell—drenching his entire right side.
Maxwell grimaced, looking over at Jill. “What was that about saving grace?”
Jill burst into laughter. “We should probably talk about that again once they fall asleep.”
Maxwell assessed his drenched and chocolate-covered shirt and then tore it off, tossing it into the pile with the toddler’s clothes. Jill fought not to react to the sudden display of masculinity, but the blatant sexiness was overwhelming. Her gaze tripped over perfect pecs and washboard abs. His belly crinkled as he adjusted his spot on the ledge.
“I think all our clothes are gonna need a few runs through the laundry,” he joked.
Jill just mustered a laugh in return, jerking her gaze to the water. Now why had he gone and done that? She’d lulled herself into a false security that her feelings for Maxwell were present but controllable. But now? After seeing that body?
She had no hope of going back to that balance. No, her attraction to him was only growing—weekly, daily, hourly at this point. She was strong enough to resist a man holding two toddlers in his arms and making it look like a piece of cake. But she wasn’t strong enough to watch that same man take his shirt off during a bath-time accident. That was just asking too much.
Maxwell heaved a sigh, dragging his fingertips through the bathwater while the kids squirted each other with toy duckies.
“I appreciate you dropping in,” he said. “Just wish it didn’t make me look useless.”
“You don’t look useless,” she assured him, deciding that now would be the perfect time to focus only on the kids and getting them washed up. She reached for soap and a washrag, getting started with Kevin. “You look like a normal man trying to be a good parent. Well—” She caught herself, heat creeping across her chest as she realized how normal he didn’t look. Normal men did not actually look like him. At all.
“What?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out.
“What is it?” he insisted.
Nervous laughter slid out of her, and she focused on scrubbing behind Kevin’s ears. “I was just going to say, normal men actually don’t look like you.”
“Oh, they don’t?” Maxwell cocked his head, a playful smirk on his lips.
“No.” She gestured broadly at his naked torso, daring only to glance at him. “Normal men do not have all this going on.”
“What? A body?” he pressed.
She shook her head, pursing her lips to fight the smile that threatened to completely out her. “You know what I mean, Maxwell. You’re a top athlete. You got more abs than most men have fingers.”
Maxwell looked incredibly satisfied, which only stoked her attraction higher.
“It’s just part of my job…” he said, reaching for another washcloth. “Can’t a normal guy look incredible while doing his job?”
She laughed. “You added the ‘look incredible’ part, okay? I never said that.” No, she’d only thought it. Which meant she was doing a bad job of hiding just how much she agreed with him.
“But you agree with me,” he said.
She just shook her head, focusing on suppressing the smile that threatened to overtake her entire body. “You can think whatever you want.”
Kevin started splashing, and they both worked at calming him down and getting the kids washed up. Their conversation faded away as other more pressing matters unfolded: new diapers, pajamas, and then the bedtime routine. By the time their book was read and the lights were out, save the special nightlight in the corner, Jill was whupped.
And she’d only been here for a couple of hours.
“They went to bed so late,” Maxwell moaned, pressing his head to the wall as Jill softly shut the bedroom door.
“It happens,” she said. “They’re toddlers, not robots. And we still haven’t figured out if there’s a full moon or not.”
Maxwell cracked a grin, a sweet, quiet moment emerging between them in the hallway. Here she was again—getting lost in those eyes. And it didn’t help that this time, he was shirtless.
“These kids are a handful,” he said in a whisper.
“Life-changing handful,” she agreed in an equally soft voice. When no signs of tantrums or fussing erupted, Maxwell jerked his head toward the other end of the hallway. There was a small lounge area at the top of the staircase, where a balcony overlooked part of the living room. Two overstuffed chairs sat there, a conversation area for those not quite ready to end their day. At least, that’s how Jill understood the design element.
“Let’s wait here,” he said. “After the day we had, I don’t trust them not to start screaming bloody murder in five minutes.”
She sank into one red armchair as he did the same. “Mmm. That’s fine by me. I could use it after my day.”
“How’d it go?” he asked.
“It was great, but insane. We’re going to have a busy practice, so that’s good news.”
He dragged his hands down his face. “Sorry again for the constant dad updates.”
“Tomorrow will be better. And if it’s not…well…there’s always the day after that,” she said with a laugh.
“Thanks, Jill. There’s the optimism I need,” he said, reaching over to bat at her low ponytail.
She giggled, leaning away from him so he couldn’t reach her if he tried a second time. “Come on. I know you NFL stars must have tricks like that up your sleeve. Improvising and whatnot. I’ve seen you play football—you know how to improvise.”
That same playful smirk returned to his face, and he watched her for a few moments. “So you’ve watched me play?”
Heat crept across her chest, alerting her to what was really going on here: flirtation. Again. And dammit, it seemed like everywhere she turned with this man, they were stepping in teasing or flirting without meaning to.
“Of course,” she said, trying to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. Because it wasn’t. The big deal was how he was looking at her. The heat behind his gaze, the testosterone edging his tone. She recognized these signs all too well. “I’ve seen a game or two.”
“I look good out there, don’t I?”
She buried her face in her hands while laughter rolled out of her. “Maxwell, you’re just full of it, aren’t you?”
“I just want to hear you say it.”