Chapter 5
FIVE
DELANEY
“What the hell is that?”
I glance up from the kitchen sink to find Jared filling the doorframe. My heart hitches. How does this man possibly look this sexy after spending a weekend running out of fake burning buildings and carrying fake crying babies to safety?
Or, whatever it is firefighters do during training and recertification weekends.
I moisten my suddenly dry lips. “What is what?”
“That.” He jabs his finger.
I follow its direction to the kitchen island where Mr. Gold IV is happily swimming in his tank. And next to him, is a small cage.
“Oh.” I beam at him brightly. “That’s Spike.”
His eyes widen. “Spike?”
“Well, we’re also toying with the name Tater Tot. Hannah wanted to call him Spike after we found him at the pet store. But now, after spending a couple nights with him, we’ve had a change of heart.” I cock my head to the side. “Did you know hedgehogs like tater tots?”
“No, I can’t say I did,” he draws out slowly. “To be honest, I don’t know much about hedgehogs. Everything I have learned has been against my will.”
I chuckle. “I’m sure. Hannah is a fount of information about hedgehogs.”
“There is one thing I have always known about them.”
“And what’s that?”
“That I specifically told Hannah she had to wait till she was older to get one.”
“Yeah, about that.” I wince inwardly. “So when we went to the pet store to,” I crane my neck to make sure no one else is standing in the hallway, “adopt the next Mr. Gold, I needed to distract her.”
“So you promised her a hedgehog.”
“Not exactly. I just took her to see them,” I say, planting my fists on my hips. “They’d just gotten this little guy in. The clerk asked if we wanted to meet him. I didn’t see the harm, and, well…”
“Daddy, Daddy!” Hannah rushes into the kitchen and throws her arms around his waist. She leans back, a bright smile on her face. “Have you met Tater Tot?”
His dark brows knit together. “I thought his name was Spike.”
“We changed it after he ate a whole tater tot.” Her eyes grow wide. “Did you know hedgehogs like tater tots?”
“So I’ve learned. What else have you two been up to?” He glances at me over her head. “Do you have any other surprises for me?”
“Don’t worry, Daddy.” She gives him another squeeze and he stares down at her again with genuine affection.
My own heart seems to clench with her hug. It’s so sweet seeing how much they love each other. It almost makes me wonder what it would have been like to grow up with a father like Jared.
It makes me wonder what it would be like to raise kids with a man like him.
Hannah’s grin takes on a mischievous edge. “It’s not anything you won’t like.”
He darts a worried look my way. “What the he…ck does that mean?”
“It means…. I made you something.” She releases her hold on him. “But I have to finish it first. So no peeking.”
“Oh.” He releases a breath. “You made me something. That’s good. That’s nice.”
“And Delaney is making us both something too.”
The tension is back on his face. It’s all I can do not to laugh. “She is?”
“Yep.” Hannah turns on her heel and races back down the hall. “Remember, Daddy, no peeking.”
“Yeah, Daddy.” I smirk. “No peeking.”
He rests a hip against the counter and gives me a pointed look. “I’ve been gone forty-eight hours.”
“Technically, it’s more like sixty. You left Friday night and it’s Monday morning.”
“Okay.” He rolls his eyes. “I’ve been gone fifty-nine and a half hours.”
“Thank you.”
“And in that time, you’ve K-I-L-L-E-D one pet, bought two, and now you’re both concocting more surprises.”
“Well, yeah.” I wrinkle my nose. “Though I’m not really sure I can take credit for what happened to Mr. Gold III. It sounds like the two of you have your own little streak going on with that.”
“Just please tell me the other surprises you have in store don’t involve any more animals living or dead.”
“That depends.”
“Oh, Jesus. On what?”
“Do you consider eggs and bacon animals or food?”
His eyebrows shoot up. “You’re making bacon and eggs.”
“I’m making bacon and French toast,” I correct, moving to the stove, which has a pan that’s now properly heated. “I know French toast wasn’t on your list of approved meals, but I thought—” I turn to grab the batter-soaked brioche and come face to face with his chest.
I gulp.
“You thought?” he prompts.
“I thought you wouldn’t mind if I went off script.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Good.” I sigh, surprised by how much tension I felt in this moment. “I’d hate to ruin everything now that we’re in the home stretch by making forbidden food.”
“French toast isn’t forbidden.”
“But it wasn’t on your list.”
He leans toward me. “There’s a good reason for that.”
“Which is?”
Our faces are close. So close I can see the specks of gold in his hazel eyes. Close enough I can feel his breath on my lips.
A shiver of anticipation runs down my spine. I rub my lips together again.
“The reason,” he says, “is that I don’t know how to make it.”
“Oh.” I blink. “Well, we can change that.”
“We can?”
“My mom taught me.” I push past him to reach the ingredients. “Fortunately for us both, she was a great teacher. And now, I can teach you.”
“Show me your ways.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’m not sure if there’s more powdered sugar on the French toast or on the front of Jared’s flannel shirt.
I bite back the fresh wave of laughter. I’ve been doing a lot of that. Based on all the fresh ingredients in the fridge, I had the impression he was a bit more… experienced in the kitchen.
It turns out, he mostly buys ingredients and the usual nanny does the cooking. He also hires someone to clean once a week.
Not that I’m judging. I’d do the same thing in his situation. It frees him up to spend more time with his daughter when he isn’t working.
But it does make me feel better about the number of takeout containers in my own fridge and the pile of dirty laundry still waiting to be washed back at my apartment.
Jared catches my amused stare. “What? Do I have something on my face?”
I choke on a near laugh. “Yeah. You do.”
He wipes his cheek with the back of his hand, smudging even more powdered sugar across his face.
“How’s that?”
A giggle bubbles out of me. “Not quite.”
“Then do you care to help a guy out?”
I brush the sugar away from his cheek with my thumb. Our bodies are practically touching. I’m all too aware of his broad shoulders, intense stare, and strong lips.
I wonder what they taste like. I know how they feel on my breasts and... other parts from previous experiences.
But I’ve never felt them against mine. That was never part of our arrangement. A way for us to keep things from getting serious.
Because neither of us wants to be serious.
Do we?
“There,” I murmur, all too aware of him.
I pull back, too quickly, and nearly trip over my own feet.
“Whoa.” He grabs hold of my waist to keep me from falling. “Steady there.”
I don’t move. Neither does he. We watch each other, with panting breaths and heated stares.
And then we both move.
My fingers are in the soft hair at the nape of his neck.
His hands are molded to my back and waist.
Our hips are pressed against each other.
And our mouths, oh our mouths, are moving together like they were always meant to be like this.
He applies soft pressure with his lips, parting my own. I moan into his mouth as I get my first taste. Spearmint from his toothpaste. Powdered sugar from our baking. And something else that’s uniquely him.
As his tongue presses tentatively against mine, I’m transported somewhere all new.
Somewhere where all this works out and isn’t nearly so complicated.
“Daddy, Delaney,” Hannah cries out. “Wait till you see what I made!”
We pull apart—chests rising up and down rapidly—just as she reaches the doorway, nearly out of breath herself.
She quickly takes in the two of us, still holding on to each other. Her face scrunches up.
“Are you okay?”
Jared clears his throat and moves behind me, no doubt to hide the evidence of what I just felt pressed against me.
“We’re great.” He grins at her. “We’re just finishing the French toast.”
“Uh huh.” She looks at me, eyes narrowed. “Why are you breathing like that?”
“I’m just really excited about this French toast,” I say too brightly. “What have you got there?”
Distracted—for now—she holds up the sheet of paper. “It’s a drawing I made of the Aquarium. Daddy said he’d take me today.”
“That’s really nice of your Daddy,” I say. “And it’s a beautiful picture.”
“I drew you in it too.” She turns to her father. “Daddy, can Delaney come with us? I just know she’ll love it too.”
“Oh, I don’t want to interfere with your time together.”
“You wouldn’t,” she insists. “We want you to come. Right Daddy?”
And then she sticks her bottom lip out, and I know neither of us will be able to say no to her sweet face.