Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
ABBI
T he man who has starred in all of my sexy fantasies for the past year and a half is still sleeping just down the hall from me.
How in the hell was I supposed to sleep through the night with Brady Wild so damn close? Especially after that kiss in my kitchen. I almost stripped out of my clothes and begged him to fuck me right there on the island. Has anyone ever made me feel so sexy? So wanted ?
Nope.
No one. Not even Nate, and he was always attentive, but I knew that I wasn’t really his type. In my experience, the curvier girls are typically overlooked for someone more…athletic.
Which is funny because I’m in excellent shape. I clean for a living, which means I carry heavy vacuums and buckets full of water up and down stairs and in and out of my SUV. I push and pull furniture, and I bust my ass to do a good job in a timely manner so I can move on to the next job.
I’m athletic.
But I’m also naturally curvy, and sometimes, men are assholes about that. At least, the men in my past have been.
But not Brady. Not only did he assure me that he found me hot, but he kissed me like I was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his life. And that kiss alone is going to fuel all my spicy dreams for months.
As if he didn’t already.
With a sigh and resigned to dragging ass today, I pull on some wide-legged yoga pants and a cropped sweatshirt, twist my hair up into a bun, and wash my face. It’s too early for makeup, and it’s Sunday, so Brady’s going to get my lazy look today.
When I step out of my room, I notice the guest room door is open and, with a frown, walk down to peek inside. The bed is made, and his bag is gone.
Daisy’s door is closed, so she’s still asleep. Otherwise, she’d come looking for me.
I pad downstairs and find it empty, and my stomach drops.
He left.
He didn’t even say goodbye. He just left. And for some reason, that hurts my feelings.
I blow out a breath and scrub my hands over my face.
“Get over it,” I mutter. “He doesn’t owe you anything.”
Walking to the windows, I glance out at the snow. It’s still falling, but it’s a normal, light snowfall now, and the wind is gone. There are piles of snow where Brady shoveled it out of my driveway, clearing it for not only his vehicle, but mine, too.
Yep, he’s gone.
And he shoveled my driveway. A chore I hate . I would kiss him again, just for that alone.
Not that I would need a reason to want to kiss him again. The man is a grade A kisser.
I check the time and see that it’s still quite early. Daisy will probably sleep for another hour or so, but I can get everything ready for breakfast.
I take my time, enjoying the quiet, pulling out the griddle and setting it on the counter, and then I start to mix the batter for the pancakes. Just as I set the oven to preheat for bacon, my front door opens and in walks Brady, a tray of to-go cups in his hand, looking fresh and sexy as hell in blue jeans and that black Carhart jacket.
His eyes find me and warm, and my mood is instantly a million times better.
“I thought you’d left,” I admit as I step around the island, watching as he sets his tray down so he can take off his jacket, hang it by the door, and step out of his snowy boots. He’s in a green Henley that hugs his shoulders perfectly, making me salivate.
Okay, fine, everything Brady does makes me salivate.
“Thanks for shoveling the driveway. It’s my least favorite chore, and now I don’t have to.”
“You’re welcome. And I wouldn’t have just left without a word. I wanted to get you some coffee. Millie knows your order.” He offers me a cup, and I take a sip and let my eyes close with that first jolt of caffeine.
“Your sister brews the best coffee,” I say with a sigh, and when I open my eyes, Brady’s watching me, his jaw tight. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head and pulls his own cup out of the tray, leaving a little one still nestled inside. “I like the way you look in the morning. All sleepy-eyed and soft.”
In all of the months I’ve known Brady Wild, he’s never looked at me like this. Of course, we’ve never been alone before for this long. His family, my friends, are always with us, and the way he’s watching me now isn’t exactly appropriate for mixed company.
It makes my insides tingle with glee.
“Are you flirting with me?” I ask with a grin.
“I shouldn’t be,” he says with a frown. “But yeah, I guess I am. I got Daisy some hot chocolate. Is she still asleep?”
I hear her feet hit the floor above us, and I smile at him. “Not anymore. Thanks for the coffee. I hadn’t made any yet.”
“That was the goal.” He sips, eyeing me, as my daughter comes bounding down the stairs.
She’s always been like this. Wakes up fully alert and ready to take on the day. Her curly hair is messy, and there’s a crease in her cheek from her pillow. When she sees Brady, she stops cold as pure joy fills her precious face.
“Brady!”
“Hi there, Princess,” he says with that easy grin. “I brought you some hot chocolate.”
“Can I have it, Mom?”
“Of course. Come sit at the island and drink it. You guys keep me company while I make breakfast.”
“We have pancakes on Sunday,” Daisy informs Brady as she climbs into her favorite stool and sits as Brady sets her cup in front of her. “Did I get whipped cream?”
“You did,” Brady confirms with a wink and sits next to her.
“So, tell me about your dance,” I say as I take the bacon out of the fridge and peel it apart, placing it onto a tray for the oven. “Who did you boogie with?”
“Holly, of course,” Daisy says. “And the other girls, too.”
“What about boys?” I ask her.
“Ew. No, they danced together. Sometimes we were all in a big group, and that was fun. They had cookies there. Brady danced, too, and he was goofy.”
“Hey.” Brady frowns down at her. “I was not goofy. That’s just how I dance.”
Daisy giggles, and I slide the pan of bacon into the oven and then get started on the pancakes.
“Did you stay here last night?” Daisy asks him, and my heart stutters.
Shit.
I twirl, ready to jump in, but Brady’s already nodding his head.
“Your mom was nice enough to offer me the guest room because the blizzard got pretty bad last night, and it probably wasn’t safe to drive to the ranch.”
“Oh,” Daisy says and sips her drink. “You didn’t sleep with Mommy?”
“No, he didn’t.” I frown at my daughter as I pour pancake mix onto the griddle. “Why would you think he would?”
“I don’t know, sometimes people sleep in the same bed. Like Holly’s mom and dad do. And sometimes my mommy has nightmares, and I go to her room and snuggle her for a while.”
My eyes go wide, and I wish the floor would just open up and swallow me.
“She does, huh?” Brady asks, and I can just feel his eyes on me.
“Yeah, so I thought maybe you had to snuggle with her to make her feel better.”
“No, he didn’t,” I say softly and smile at my baby. “But thank you for thinking of me. You’re very sweet.”
Daisy smiles and drinks her hot chocolate, and I glance over to Brady. Sure enough, those hot hazel eyes are on me, full of questions, but I just shake my head and get back to work.
Brady asks Daisy about school and what she wants for Christmas as I finish breakfast, and I’m happy for the reprieve from any more uncomfortable topics that my precious daughter wants to bring up.
One thing about my girl is, she’s not afraid to speak up. And I love that about her. I envy it sometimes. But I’m also learning that it might be a little uncomfortable around a man that makes my insides quiver.
“Let’s sit at the table,” I suggest as I make a plate for Daisy and get her settled and then join Brady in the kitchen to make my own breakfast. He puts three pieces of bacon on my plate, and I shake my head. “I don’t usually do the bacon.”
“You don’t like bacon ?” He scowls down at me like I just told him that I hate kittens.
“Of course, I like it; I just don’t eat it.” I bite my lip when his eyes narrow.
“She worries about her hips,” Daisy pipes up, and I close my eyes in embarrassment as Brady scoffs.
“Thanks, baby.”
“Eat the bacon, Abs.” His voice is low so only I can hear, and it sends tremors right through me. Actual tremors . “This smells damn good.”
“You said a swear,” Daisy informs him. “A dollar goes into the jar.”
“What jar?” Brady demands, looking around the room.
“It’s on the mantle,” Daisy says, pointing to the living room. “We’re saving up.”
“For what?” he wants to know.
“I don’t know,” she admits with a giggle. “What are we saving up for, Mommy?”
“A rainy day,” I murmur as I take a bite of the bacon and savor the salty taste of it on my tongue. I don’t remember the last time I had a piece. I sit next to Daisy, across from Brady, and watch him inhale the pancakes. “Good?”
“Da-dang good,” he says, catching himself. “You said you do this every Sunday?”
“Yep.” Daisy takes a bite and hums with happiness. “They’re my favorite.”
“Mine, too,” he says and high-fives my daughter. “You have good taste, Princess.”
“I know.”
When we’re finished eating, Brady helps me clear the table, and then Daisy announces, “You should just live here and be my daddy.”
I blink, and my gaze whips up to him. He’s staring down at a plate, frowning, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s gone pale.
“You know, I should probably head out,” he says quietly and sets the plate back in the sink. He doesn’t meet my gaze as he turns away and gathers his coat and slides his feet into his boots. “Thanks for breakfast, ladies.”
“Daisy, why don’t you go upstairs and get dressed.”
“But—”
“No arguing,” I snap back at her and hurry after Brady, who’s already outside and striding to his SUV. “Brady, hold on.”
He’s shaking his head as he opens the door, and I rush over, in my socks , through the snow and worm my way between the door and the 4Runner so he can’t shut it on me.
“She didn’t mean to upset you,” I say, breathing hard and feeling awful that Daisy’s words are making him run away. “I apologize.”
“No, don’t.” He shakes his head and sighs. “She didn’t do anything wrong. It was just a reminder that I need to watch myself. I can’t let her get too attached to me.”
“She really likes you, that’s all.”
“I’ll keep my distance.” He still won’t look me in the eyes. “You’re going to get frostbite on your feet, Abbi.”
“Brady—”
“Go inside.” The words aren’t harsh, but they leave no room for argument, so I back away and let him shut the door and return inside, where Daisy’s sitting on the stairs, holding the bunny she’s had since she was a baby, looking at me with wide brown eyes.
“Did he get mad?”
I don’t know what in the hell he is. He looked… lost. “No, baby. I think he had to get home. There’s a lot to do at the ranch, you know.”
“He doesn’t want to be my daddy.”
“Come here.” I take her hand and lead her to the couch where we snuggle in like we do when we’re watching movies. “Sweetheart, it’s not that easy.”
“He likes us.”
“Sure, he does. And he’s nice to us, but that doesn’t mean he wants to live with us and be married to me. That’s what it means, Dais, and that’s a big deal. It’s not something that’s decided over breakfast after a dance.”
“Okay.”
My heart breaks at the defeat in her little voice, and I kiss her head, breathing in her shampoo.
“I love you, pumpkin.”
“I love you, too.”
“What do you want to do today?”
“Can we make cookies?”
That’s my girl, forever with the sweet tooth. “Sure. Why not? Snowy days are for cookies.”
I had to take matters into my own hands.
So to speak.
I’ve been living with perpetual sexual frustration for the past two weeks since Brady spent the night during the snowstorm. I haven’t heard one word from him, and I can take a hint when a man just isn’t interested.
Although, I’ll admit, there were some mixed messages there, what with the hottest kiss of the goddamn century, but if he was interested in more, he’d contact me.
He has my number.
But there has been nothing. Nada. Zilch. And I need relief from this constant ache for the stubborn son of a bitch.
Not that Joy’s a bitch. Brady’s mom is the best.
Anyway, I broke down and bought a toy. An adult toy. Online.
And it just arrived. I’ve unboxed it and am frowning at it, wondering where the batteries go, when Daisy gets home.
Of course, she sees the packing box.
“I want to see what we got,” she says as she lets her bookbag drop and starts to shed out of her coat.
“No, ma’am,” I reply, shaking my head, shoving the toy in the back of my jeans and covering it with my sweatshirt. “It’s too close to Christmas for you to be looking in delivery boxes.”
Thank God for that excuse.
“Come on, we have to get you ready for your overnight slumber party at Holly’s house. I packed most of your stuff, but I need to know what pillow you want to take.”
The toy is digging into my back, so I take it out of my pants and shove it into my pocket as I follow Daisy up the stairs. Once I’m in her room, I stash it under her pillows.
“The pink one,” she says, as if I should just automatically know that.
“You always change which one is your favorite,” I remind her. “Erin will be here soon to get you.”
Once a month, Holly and Daisy get a slumber party, and we switch back and forth on which house they stay at. This month, it’s at the Wild River Ranch. The girls look forward to it every month.
“Are you excited to be out of school for the holiday break?”
“No,” she says with a frown.
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll miss my friends,” she says.
Daisy is the most social person I know. She thrives around other people. She’s never met a stranger, and sometimes that makes me nervous.
Beep-beep.
“Well, you’ll get to see everyone in a couple of weeks. Come on, that was Erin’s horn in the driveway.”
“Yay!” Daisy runs out of her bedroom, leaving me to carry her backpack and pillow and Mr. Bunny.
“Hi, guys,” I call out with a smile as I walk outside, carrying all of Daisy’s gear. My daughter is hugging Holly like she hasn’t seen her in a month. “Didn’t you guys just see each other at school?”
They laugh and hop into Erin’s big SUV, and Erin offers me a hug.
“So, what are you going to do with a whole night to yourself?” she asks.
I can’t exactly say, “ I’m going to use the new toy I got to get my rocks off. ” So, I smile and shrug a shoulder. “I’ll catch up on some stuff.”
“Let me know if you get bored. You’re always welcome to come out to our place, have some wine, and chat.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, friend.”
Erin grins and then climbs into her SUV.
I return inside and unpack Daisy’s backpack, clean her lunch box, and get everything put away before I take an hour to clean the house a bit. I got home from work just twenty minutes before Daisy arrived, and I’ve felt like I’ve been ignoring the things that need to get done around here.
Finally, with one last glance around the living room, I head upstairs to Daisy’s room and check under the pillows for my toy, but it’s not there.
I toss all the pillows onto the floor. Nothing.
With my heart hammering in my chest, I yank the covers back on the bed and still come up empty.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I mutter as I pull my phone out of my back pocket and call Erin.
“Hey, are you coming out here after all?”
“No, listen, I need to ask you to do something for me, and I don’t want you to judge me.”
Erin clears her throat on the other end of the line. “Are we going to bury someone, Abbi?”
I can’t help but laugh at that. “It’s not that dramatic, but it’s embarrassing.” I tell her about the toy and my attempt to hide it from my daughter.
She’s laughing on the other end of the line when I say, “I need you to check Daisy’s overnight bag and her pillow and see if I managed to put it in there.”
“This is hilarious ,” Erin says with glee. I can hear her walking through her house, and I bite my fingernail as I wait.
“You can’t tell anyone.”
“My lips are sealed…until we meet with the other girls and have a couple of margaritas. And then the secret will be between the five of us.”
I cringe and then can’t help but laugh with her. “Tell me you found it.”
“Nope, not here. Let me check the pillow.”
She’s quiet for a second, and then I hear something land on the floor. Hard.
“Found it,” she announces. “Hey, this is a nice one. Send me the link.”
I giggle now and blow out a breath. “Thank God you found it and not Daisy. I’ll come out and get it.”
“Don’t worry, he’s safe with me until you get here. You might as well plan on staying for dinner. I’m making sloppy joes.”
“I never could turn down a sloppy joe. Thanks, friend. See you soon.”