No, I suppose she’s right. Nash is the kind of man who stays on your mind.
11
Nash
She’s here again.She’s been here five times so far, and I’ve done my damn best to stay away from the house while she’s here. I know the time she’s spending with Andi is helping because my daughter read an entire book to me last night before bed. It took her extra time to do it, but it was time well spent. My baby girl was so damn proud of herself. I nearly wept just seeing the smile across her pretty little face. So, yeah, it’s difficult knowing Isabelle is in my house, in my home, but I’d endure just about anything for Andi.
Looking around the barn, my stomach roars loud enough for Cy to hear me. And see me. She’s got sight in her eye. Cal was right, she had a vitamin deficiency, one that we treated initially with shots, but now I’ve added it to her bottle, so she’ll get what she needs while she nurses. “I’m hungry, Cy. Back in a bit.”
I know I shouldn’t interrupt reading time, but the stomach has spoken. I choose to enter through the back door quietly, so as not to disturb them. In the kitchen, I peek over at the table and see Andi sitting alone. She’s reading aloud. When she mispronounces a word, I hear Isabelle’s voice coming from the other room. “It’s binoculars, Andi. The c makes the k sound.”
“Binoculars,” repeats Andi, pronouncing it correctly.
I frown at the scene before me. What is Isabelle doing in the other room? I step past the kitchen island and around the table and spot her in my living room with a bottle of some kind of spray in her hand and a kitchen towel. “What’re you doing, Isabelle?”
She quickly places the bottle behind her back and stammers, “Oh, um, I….”
“Dusting, Daddy. She dusts while I read. We’ve got a system.”
The fuck?I’m staring at Isabelle when I say, “Hey, Andi? Can you run out and give Cy her bottle? It’s ready to go.”
“Sure, Daddy.” I hear her chair slide across the hardwood floor.
Then I hear the front door open and the screen door slam closed. All the while, my eyes are on Isabelle—an Isabelle that is blushing a deep shade of pink. Her blue eyes are big and round, and I just can’t wait to hear what’s going to come out of that mouth of hers that’s opening and closing like a fish. I take first one step, then another and another until I’m less than a foot away from her. As I move even closer, she moves backward until her back meets the bookshelf next to the door.
“I c-can explain, Nash.”
I move in closer until our bodies are almost touching. Almost. “You cleanin’ my house, Isabelle?”
“No. I just….”
I stay put but look around my living room. Not a speck of dust in sight. I look down at the rug and notice it’s either been vacuumed or shook out. I never heard her run a sweeper, so it’s got to be the latter. Turning my head the other way, I see my sofa looks like it’s brand new. Why haven’t I noticed this before now? And you want to know what? It pisses me the fuck off. Turning back to look right into her eyes, I ask, “What do you think you’re doing, Isabelle? You trying to show me how valuable you’d be to me?”
“What?” she screeches. “No.”
I lean in closer until I’m an inch from those fucking lips of hers. “You sure about that? You think I don’t do a good enough job around here? You think you can come on in and become the woman of the Watson house?”
“N-Nash. No, I—”
“I’ve got news for you, sweetheart.” My voice just got deep, probably because my dick has taken notice of everything in front of me. “You couldn’t handle me.”
I expect her to tell me shecanhandle me, but when I look into her eyes, I watch them darken. She’s either pissed or turned on. I lean down and let my nose skim up the side of her neck. Goddamn, she smells perfect. I scent vanilla and something else. I’ve got to keep going. “What? You think you can handle me, Isabelle?”
“Nash.” Her voice is husky and soft. “I was just….”
“Tryin’ to prove yourself to me?” I raise my hand so I can touch her face. So fucking soft. “You want in my bed? You don’t have to clean my house to have that.”
“No.” Her voice has gained some steam. “I….” She stops trying to talk.
“You sure?” I lift my head and look down at her breasts that are nearly pressed against me. I can see the peak of her nipples. “Your body is saying otherwise, darlin’. Your breathing is labored, and your eyes are dilated. You’re turned on.” I lean in and skim my lips against hers. “You want me to fuck you, Isabelle? I’d make it good for you. Once. One great fuck. After that, you never step foot in my place again, and you sure as shit don’t say a word to anyone.”
Holy shit. What the hell am I doing? I came in to get a bite to eat, and now all I want to do is get a taste of this woman. It’s wrong. I know. Isaac would murder me if he found out the bullshit that’s spewing out of my mouth. Because that’s all it is, bullshit.
I feel her hands run up my chest. For a split second, I think she’s going to wrap those lovely arms around me, but that’s not what happens. Instead of wrapping me up, those little hands of hers push on my chest, hard. So hard it catches me off guard and off balance. I end up on my ass. Looking up at Isabelle, her face is flushed, and her nostrils are flaring.
“You arrogant jerk.” She steps to her left, getting closer to the door. “All I was doing was helping you out a little bit. It’s what neighbors and sisters of your best friend do. They help out. You’ve got some nerve thinking I’d… I’d just do that….” She points to the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. “I’m not that kind of woman.” She places her hands on her hips and stares right into my eyes. “And frankly, I deserve more respect than that fromyou,Nash Watson.”
She turns and moves toward the kitchen, gathering up her bag and a jacket. On her way back to the front door, she stops and looks me in the eye. “From now on, Andi and I will work at my parents’ house. I’ll bring her home immediately afterward. I’ll be sure to provide her a healthy snack. In the meantime”—she reaches in her purse, retrieving a business card—“this is the number for Janine Baker’s, formerly Davis, cleaning service. I’d use it if I were you.”
