He looked around the room again.
Whether or not Ami had known about the book or books before tonight, she had clearly thrown herself into the whole experience, if his very messy living room was anything to go by.
Michael sighed and looked at the two of them. Andre was sprawled across the cushions next to her. His son was going to be tall like he was, and his gangly arms and legs were everywhere. Ami was on her side, her back against the back of the couch, her hand under her cheek, looking much smaller than her five foot, eight inches.
But he knew all about those long, smooth legs. He’d been looking away from them—and the hips they connected to, and the ass those hips connected to, and yeah, everything else higher up—ever since those curves had gone on full display the summer Ami had decided to rough it on the bayou.
Amelia and her sisters, Charlotte and Abigail, had grown up in Shreveport but had always spent part of their summer vacations with the Landry side of their family. But Ami had never spent three months straight in town. She’d always been busy traveling and participating in beauty pageants and Miss Whatever competitions. But that summer she’d taken time off and kicked back. On the bayou. With very few clothes on.
That summer had been hell.
And now, here she was. On his couch. With very few clothes on.
Fuckin’ great.
Naomi had texted him that someone else was staying with Andre and not to worry about anything. He hadn’t. Naomi would never have someone watch him who wasn't fully trustworthy. But Michael had been expecting to see his mother, grandmother, or possibly one of Ami’s aunts. He huffed out a breath. He hadn’t been wrong about a Landry woman being here, he supposed.
He looked around the room. This would take more effort and time than he wanted to spend when he’d just gotten off a shift. He needed to get Andre cleaned up and dressed for school. They must've slept out here all night. That might not be great for Andre's performance and mood later today, but Michael had to admit his son looked very comfortable snuggled up against Ami.
Can you blame him?
Michael shut down the little voice in his head. He did not need to think about how comfortable it might be to be pressed up against Amelia Landry.
He bent over the couch and placed a hand on his son’s back. “Andre,” he said softly, rubbing up and down.
His son didn’t even stir.
“Andre,” he said a little louder, shaking slightly.
Eyes fluttered open, but they weren’t Andre’s.
three
When Ami's eyes met his, she started slightly. But then, obviously, she quickly remembered where she was. The one arm she had draped around Andre tightened slightly as she wiggled, then stretched, moving him to the side and sliding out from behind him.
“Hi,” she said softly.
“Hey.”
She sat on the edge of the couch and looked around. Then grimaced. “Uh, sorry.”
“For?”
She looked up at him. “All of it?”
She phrased it as a question, and he couldn’t help but laugh.
“I don't even want to see the kitchen, do I?”
She gave him a grin that he could only term adorable. Again. “I am really good at playing. Not so good about the cleanup.”
He forbade his brain to linger on the word playing. “Noted. But you are a last-minute substitute, so I'll have to let it slide.”
She stretched up from the sofa. “Thanks. But I’m not a fill-in. I totally insinuated myself into Naomi’s evening with Andre. I came over to talk to him and Naomi was bored so I told her she could leave.”
“You came over to talk to Andre?”
Ami had babysat for Andre before. It seemed everyone in the Landry and LeClaire family had pitched in at one time or another. Michael was eternally grateful for them all. But he could admit that there wasn’t anyone other than possibly his grandmother who had a bond with Andre like Ami did. Michael couldn’t put his finger on why exactly Andre and Ami seemed to fit like ice cream and sprinkles, but they did.
Michael tucked his hands into his pockets. He was still in his uniform. Autre was a small town, and it didn't take him long to get home from the station, so he waited to get home to shower and change. It had been a long shift, but nothing exciting had happened. He'd even gotten some sleep.
Still, he felt off-kilter. It was probably because he hadn't expected Ami to be here when he got home. But the way she was standing there in that tank top, with paint streaked over it, the hemline not quite meeting the tops of her shorts, and her shorts not extending very far down her long smooth legs was also distracting as fuck.
There’s a reason she’s won a lot of pageants. She’s a model. Her job is to be beautiful. You’re okay, man.
The pep talk didn’t make him feel better. She was essentially his son’s babysitter.
Sure, she was twenty-four. It wasn’t as if she was his friend’s teenage daughter or something.
Not your fault she’s got bright purple paint on her breast. So your eye wanders. It’s a bright color against that white.
Yeah. Sure. That’s why he was looking.
He glanced around the room instead, trying to focus his attention on anything other than how this woman managed to look stunning even in face paint and a wig.
“What exactly happened here?” he asked.
“Well, I came over to talk about the book, but then I had to do a quick makeup thing online. Naomi was my subject for the tutorial, which was awesome,” she said enthusiastically. “Then I showed Andre some cosplay makeup before we dove into the book.”
Michael frowned as he took all of that information in. “Wait, did you say you came over to talk about the book?”
“Yeah.” She bent and picked up the book from the coffee table. “I brought Andre a copy and we read it together for the first time.”
Michael blinked at her. “You…knew about the book?”
“Of course. I’ve been waiting months to read it. Andre and I agreed we’d read it together the first time.”
Michael wasn’t sure what to say. “You know about Warriors of Easton?”
She pressed her lips together and glanced down at the book. Then took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah.”
“From Andre?” Maybe they’d talked about it one of the times she’d been in Autre.
“Um…” She blew out a breath. “No. I’ve been into Warriors for a long time. I’m kind of obsessed with it.”
“You…play videogames.”
She nodded, looking resigned. “I do. I’m actually really good. I kick Zeke and Zander’s asses all the time.”
“I…” Michael studied the most gorgeous woman he knew, who now had a half-green face and bright pink hair. “I didn’t know you and Andre…talk.”
“We email mostly. Text some.”
“About Warriors?”
Something changed in her expression. She crossed her arms and looked almost offended. Or, if not that, certainly annoyed.
“Mostly,” she said. “But we talk about other stuff too. Sounds like he’s doing great in school. All A’s. And he told me about the new red panda cubs at the animal park. And that Theo took him along when he relocated some alligators a couple weeks ago.”