Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A s usual, Matt woke at five. No noises came from the guest room that Scarlet and Daisy shared, so he changed into his running clothes and slipped out of the house. He planned on a short run, but at five miles, his mind was still turning, so he picked up the pace and kept going. After another five, he called it quits. A half-mile cool-down walk and multiple rounds of burpees, planks, and sit-ups later, his thoughts had finally settled enough for him to face the day—a Sunday with Scarlet and Daisy.
Not that the pint-sized woman and her adorable kid were wreaking havoc on his mind or anything.
Damn. He wasn’t about to start lying to himself again. Both ladies made him nervous—in totally different ways, of course. Scarlet because... well, because she was funny and beautiful and strong and so damn off-limits. And Daisy because she had him completely wrapped around her little finger. She was beyond precious, and he didn’t know the first thing about kids.
Yeah, he could hang with Poppy’s boys but they were teenagers, technically adults, so it wasn’t the same. He’d never understood the baby-talk thing, so he spoke to Daisy like he would anyone else—with fewer curse words, of course—but he wasn’t sure that was what he was supposed to do.
But Matt was resolved to go with the flow. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing with either of them, so he would just take everything as it came. He would be a good friend to Scarlet. Get to know her better and help her in any way that he could.
But he would have to be careful. Because the last thing he wanted was to put pressure on her. He knew he’d initially come across as an asshole with all his grunted replies, and he hoped to make up for that. However, he didn’t want her to think she had to be his friend because he was helping her out.
Quietly letting himself into the house, Matt checked his watch. It was almost seven. He would make his customary protein shake, shower, and whip up some breakfast for his houseguests. After last night’s junk food fest, maybe he’d make some eggs and bacon to combat all the sugar.
Wiping his brow with the T-shirt he’d taken off at mile seven, he turned the corner to the great room and kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks. The sight before him made his breath catch, his chest clench tight.
“Hi!” Scarlet said, a pink flush brightening her cheeks. She stood at the island, dressed in loose rainbow pajama pants with a blue tank top. Her long dark hair was piled atop her head in a bun. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said, indicating the items she had laid out in front of her. “I saw you working out in the front yard and thought that maybe you’d like eggs, bacon, and some toast for breakfast?”
Damn, she was gorgeous. Shit. Focus, Alvarez!
“That sounds perfect, thank you. I was just thinking the exact same thing, actually.” He glanced at the table. Daisy sat there, still in her unicorn sleep dress, with crayons and paper spread out in front of her. A cartoon played on the great room television—featuring some blue Australian-sounding dog—but she paid no attention to it. Instead, she stared at him with twinkling eyes. “Good morning, Otter Pop.”
“Good morning, Mr. Matty. Did you know someone drawed all over your arms and top?” she asked, patting her chest.
“What?” he exclaimed, rotating his arms in front of him.
She giggled, as he’d intended. “Mr. Matty, you’re silly.”
“My friend Slash is a tattoo artist, and he drew all these on me. He even drew on my back, too.” He grinned, twisting so she could see the ink that ran across the top of his back up to his neck. When he faced her again, he asked, “What are you up to?”
“I’m drawing you another picture for your figyator.”
“Well, I can’t wait to see what you come up with.” He shot her a wink, then looked at Scarlet. “If you don’t mind, I need to hop in the shower. I’ll be quick.”
“No problem. I’ll get the bacon going, so take your time.”
“Five minutes. And thanks, Scar,” he said, throat growing thick with emotion.
Rein it in, Alvarez. Right. Easier said than done, though. Because damn, this moment—Scarlet and Daisy relaxing in his kitchen, completely at home—hit him square in the fucking chest. He didn’t want to admit it. Wasn’t comfortable acknowledging it... but they had him itching for something he had no business wanting.
Friends, dammit. You need to be her friend.
Scarlet tried with all her might to concentrate on the bacon. Admittedly, she was doing a shit job, because the splatter had already gotten her twice. Her mind would not stay on the task at hand. Instead, it kept filling with visions of Matt.
Shirtless.
Thick, corded muscles glistening with sweat.
His ridiculous eight-pack tapering down to a delicious V .
And holy shit . . . the tattoos.
She’d known about the ink on his forearms, but damn, the rest of it was downright mouthwatering. The all-black designs looked like some sort of tribal art. One tattoo covered his entire left pec, continuing down his left arm and across his back. And oh, what a freaking glorious back it was?—
Another searing splatter of grease landed on her arm. Ah! Focus, Scarlet!
Transferring the cooked bacon to a paper-toweled plate, Scarlet carefully added more to the frying pan. A fresh wave of the comforting bacon-y aroma filled the kitchen as the meat sizzled. She got a pot of coffee going, and when it started percolating, she wanted to pat herself on the back for not spilling the grounds everywhere. Because yes, she was still that distracted.
She spun back to the stove and?—
Slammed into a large, hard body.
“Whoa, there,” Matt said, hands clamping down on her waist to steady her.
She sucked in a breath. Wrong move. His woodsy, soapy scent filled her nose, and every nerve in her body became a live wire. Good god, this man...
He cleared his throat and stepped back. She immediately missed the feel of his strong hands at her waist. God, what it would be like to have his hands all over?—
Slow your damn roll, girlfriend!
The bacon popped, and she used the excuse to step around him. “Sorry,” she murmured. She knew her face was flushed, so she busied herself with breakfast.
“Can I help?” he asked, making her jump.
When had he moved to stand beside her?
Ohmygod. Get. It. Together!
Plating the last of the bacon, she grabbed the carton of eggs. Basically, looking anywhere but at him. “Um, can you help Daisy clear the table?”
“You got it.” Her pulse picked up when he gently squeezed her shoulders. “Thanks again for breakfast.”
Scarlet cracked half a dozen eggs into the pan and scrambled them. Lowering the heat, she popped four slices of sourdough into the fancy toaster.
Matt had changed into a plain black T-shirt and dark jeans, and while she returned to stirring the eggs, she couldn’t help but appreciate how the simple shirt accentuated his chest. How the jeans showed off his mighty fine?—
The toaster popped. Holy crap, girl. Stop ogling the man!
With a shake of her head, she cut the toast into triangles and placed them on a plate. Turning off the stove, she scooped the eggs into a large bowl. She brought both to the table and smiled. Matt had apparently shown Daisy how to fold the paper napkins into rectangles, and he was placing their forks atop them.
Scarlet set the food in the center of the table and shot Matt a nervous grin. “Now, who’s hungry?” Her smile turned genuine when her daughter’s hand shot into the air.
“Me!” Daisy scowled at Matt. “Mr. Matty, raise your hand.”
He dutifully complied, giving Daisy a sheepish smile and a murmured, “Sorry, Otter Pop.”
Damn, he was cute.