Chapter 11 #2
The scent of coffee drifted under her door, and she closed her eyes, remembering countless mornings with her dad’s French press.
“Wait, let me do it, Daddy.”
“Come on, Willa-Bear.”
She could feel the press of her belly against the counter as he’d lift her, his big hand covering hers, as she pressed the plunger. “Push hard.”
She’d loved growing up at the inn with him. She’d spend as much time with him this morning as she could.
After washing up and brushing her teeth, she started for the door.
But then, she remembered she was still wearing pajamas. And it wasn’t just her and her dad in the apartment.
It was Decker.
And last night, this silky top had turned his gaze hot. She’d seen the burn in his cheeks, the flare of his nostrils, and she knew he’d wanted to let the buttons go flying.
Oh, she would’ve liked that.
But Birdie and Cady were out there, too, and it was time to get her head on right. Because they weren’t ever going to act on this attraction.
After changing into shorts and a T-shirt, she headed out of her childhood bedroom. The living area was empty—even at eight in the morning, her dad would be busy with something or other—but the kitchen was full of the sounds of chatter, the grinding rumble of a blender, and a gurgling coffee pot.
The sight of Decker in a plain white T-shirt and gym shorts made her stomach dip and her pulse stutter.
That’s one fine man.
The play of his back muscles and biceps as he stirred something on the stove heated her blood.
As she passed Cady and Birdie, she touched the pregnant woman’s shoulder. “How’re you feeling today?”
“I’m all right.” She sat at the table with her hips pitched forward, back arched, belly high and rounded.
“Is there anything we can do for you?” Willa wondered about that window for travel. She was awfully close to the thirty sixth-week restriction, but she guessed Decker would take her on the jet with him tomorrow.
“Decker made me toast.” She smiled. “I’m good, thank you.”
Willa brushed the messy hair out of Birdie’s eyes. “And how’s my little ladybug this morning?”
“I not a bug.” The toddler looked offended.
So cute. “No, you’re not. I’m sorry. Did you sleep okay?”
Birdie shook her head, making her blonde curls bounce.
“Oh, no.” Willa dropped to a crouch. “What happened?”
“Dat bad man chaseded me.”
Willa shot a look at Cady. She has nightmares?
Behind her, she felt the brisk energy of a six-foot-four football player. “What bad man?” His voice sounded hard, threatening.
Cady shook her head. “She has a big imagination.”
“That sounds scary,” Willa said gently. “Can you tell me what happened with the bad man?”
“Dat man wif big teef. He chaseded me, and I falled.”
“Oh, no, sweetie.” She rubbed the little girl’s thigh. “Did you get hurt?”
“I gots a boo-boo.” Birdie pointed to perfectly healthy knees.
“It sounds like you need a Band-Aid.”
Birdie nodded, a look of wounded sincerity.
“Let me get you one. Hang on.” She knew she’d find one in the junk drawer. When she got it, she came back to find Decker holding a big frying pan. He spooned scrambled eggs onto Cady’s and Birdie’s plates.
“Eggs?” he asked her.
Willa stared at the pale mess. He’d clearly used more whites than yolks and hadn’t added cheese. It was an abomination.
But she’d never say that in front of Birdie. “I’ll start with coffee, thanks.”
He stood like a sentry in front of the table, guarding Birdie from bad men with big teeth. But when the toddler made a face at the steaming eggs, he said, “Let it cool.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I not eat dat.”
“It’s scrambled eggs.” His tone said, “Who doesn’t like them?”
“Das yucky.”
“Okay, what do you like?” he asked.
“Sgabetty.”
“I’m sorry, what?” He set the pan on the stove.
“Spaghetti,” Cady said quietly. “It’s all she eats. Well, that and cake.”
“I want cake.” Birdie looked at Decker with a hopeful expression.
“You can have a treat later. But we start the day with protein.” Decker slid some eggs onto a fork and brought them to her mouth. “Come on. At least try them.”
“Eggs maked me fro up.” Her lips pressed together, and she shook her head.
“Oh, I bet these are good ones.” Willa took a bite to show the girl the eggs didn’t make her sick, but they were truly gross. “Maybe we could add a little cheese?”
“Dairy doesn’t help recovery. It slows me down and makes everything feel heavier. I eat for performance, not flavor. Remember?” He turned to Birdie. “We can have spaghetti later. With meatballs. You need food that helps you grow.”
Birdie gazed up at him with defiance. Unless he pried her jaw open, he wasn’t getting her to eat that nasty breakfast.
“I stopped at the store this morning and bought a few things for her. I’ve got frozen French toast sticks.” Cady winced when she got up, pressing a palm to her belly. “I’ll heat them up.”
“You sit.” Willa moved to the freezer. “I’ll do it.”
After she got the French toast on a baking sheet and in the oven, Willa came up to Decker. Standing close, she breathed in his freshly showered scent. “Hey.”
Everything about him softened, and his smile woke up all her senses. “Hey.”
“What’s the plan today?” she asked.
“I’m heading for the Anti-Gravity Center this morning.” His sensual gaze slid over her, soft as fingertips. “I need a physical therapist to check out my ankle, and I’ve got to get a workout in.”
“We have a gym here, but can you work out with a bad ankle?”
“They stick you in a pressurized bubble so you can run without putting all your weight on the joint.”
“Fancy.”
“What about you?” He tucked a loose hair behind her ear. “What time are you heading to the airport?”
“I’ve got a noon flight, so I just want to spend time with my dad.” She’d love to see Finlay, fill her in on all that had happened, but the bride and groom were spending the weekend alone at a resort. She wouldn’t dream of bothering her.
“Sounds good.” He wanted to say something, she could tell by his lingering glance, the conflict in his eyes.
Yesterday, after the ceremony, they’d planned on a hookup. In that moment, she was sad they’d never get to be together like that.
She’d spend the rest of her life imagining what it would feel like to slide her hands under his shirt and feel his warm skin. She’d never get to watch the smolder in his eyes as she lifted it over his head.
Her lips parted, her breaths grew shallow, and she felt an intimacy with this man that she couldn’t bear to lose.
Not when she’d just found it.
But his expression shuttered, and he turned back to the eggs. “Well. If I don’t see you again, thank you for driving. And good luck with everything at the office tomorrow.”
She stepped back so abruptly, she banged into the refrigerator.
“Yep. Thanks.” One thing she wouldn’t miss was his extreme swings from hot to cold.
She might understand him well enough to know that his self-discipline kicked in when he dealt with emotions he couldn’t manage, but that didn’t take the sting out of it.
But what did any of this matter? Why was she wallowing in a silly schoolgirl crush when, in twenty-four hours, she’d spend her every waking hour buried in due diligence reports and red-line agreements?
“Okay, then. I’d better get going.” There was no point in dragging this out.
So, she set her plate in the sink and turned to the toddler.
“It was very nice meeting you, Birdie.” She thought about the nightmare and knelt in front of her.
“You know what my dad used to tell me when I thought bad men were chasing me?”
Birdie shook her head.
“He said, ‘Bad men don’t like loud, brave voices.’ So, in my biggest voice, he made me say, ‘Stay away, bad man. You can’t hurt me.’”
Birdie mouthed it.
“I didn’t hear you,” Willa said. “Say it. Say, ‘Stay away, bad man. You can’t hurt me.’”
Birdie whispered it, feet kicking out.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Willa asked. “I couldn’t hear you.”
The little girl tried it again, stronger this time. “Stay away, bad man. You can’t hurt me.”
“That’s it. Just like that.” Willa stood. “You remember, okay? You use your brave voice. That’s your superpower.” Before leaving the kitchen, she took one more look at Decker.
And caught the longing in his eyes.
He does feel it. But she’d known that.
There’s something special between us.
It just won’t lead anywhere.