Changing the angle, I take another good whack at the rail. “Son of a…biscuit.”
“Sorry it’s such a pain.”
“Dawn’s a nice nature-inspired name,” I muse. “Also my mom’s middle name.”
She sighs as I get up to alter the angle. It’s tricky work and I’m starting to sweat. Maybe I should open another window.
“You look thirsty,” she says with a wobble in her voice.
“Guess I am kinda thirsty.” Why do I sound like I’m hoping for more than just water?
“Here.” Hazel sets down her tots and hands me a steel-walled bottle. “It’s ice water. I haven’t even touched it.”
“Oh, good. I was worried about Hazel cooties.” I twist off the top, tipping it up to my lips. The ice cubes slosh to the top of the bottle, spilling half of the contents over my chest. “Sh—oot.” That was a close one. “Got a towel or something?”
“Here.” She leaps up with a fistful of napkins from her tater tot bag and starts mopping my chest. “That happens to me all the time. I put in too much ice and?—”
“No problem.” Can’t say I mind how she’s touching me. She’s patting my middle, getting dangerously close to my fly. Sparks zing through my core as her fingertips tickle my abs. “Uh, I should probably get that myself.”
“Right, yes. Of course.” She hands me the napkins and scuttles back to her spot on the floor.
I take over mopping my midsection, wiping myself with the wet wad of napkins as Hazel goes back to eating her tots. I’m dabbing a spot near my beltline when she lets out a soft little moan.
“You like what you’re eating, huh?”
Licking her lips, Hazel blushes. “Zoe said something?”
Huh?
But she tips up her chin before I can ask. “Yes, if you must know, I’ve been reading erotic romance. It’s a perfectly healthy outlet for women experiencing natural hormonal fluctuations and desires that come with?—”
“Hazel.”
“And anyway, yes—I’m not ashamed to admit I really do like what I’m reading. Turns out I’m into the tropes with blue-collar heroes falling for snotty rich girls, so Zoe gave me a bunch of those. And there’s no shame in?—”
“Hazel.” I say it louder this time, though it’s almost a shame to stop her. I’m rather enjoying this monologue. “Eating.” I enunciate slowly as I set down the crib rail and walk over to where she sits sprawled on the floor. My shoulder bumps hers as I ease down beside her. “I asked if you liked what you’re eating. You keep stuffing tater tots into your mouth and moaning. I thought?—”
“Oh, God.” She squeezes her eyes shut and lets out a moan that sounds more like shame. “Why am I such an idiot around you and your stupid penis? And those abs, my God—I could grate cheese on them.”
“Please do.” I grin when she opens her eyes. “If cheese is one of your cravings, be my guest.”
Hazel licks her lips. “You’re sitting too close.”
“You want me to move?”
There’s a sharp intake of breath as my fingertips brush her bare knee. “No.”
“You want me to open the window some more?”
The tip of her tongue wets her lips. “No.”
I’m ninety percent sure I know what she wants. Ten percent worried she’s preparing to punch me in the balls.
But since I’m one hundred and eighty percent dying to touch her, I push my luck.
“What do you want, Hazel?” The rumble of my voice makes her eyes flash. “Rambutan?”
She shakes her head slowly, licking her lips again.
