Hailey gasps. “Uh oh!”
Micah jumps up from his seat. “Oh, fuck! Let me grab a towel.”
Great. I just humiliated myself and stained a perfectly good blouse. He probably doesn’t care if I’m married or not now that he sees what a klutz I am.
It only takes him a second to bring back a wet dish towel, and before I know what’s happening, he’s got his hands on my chest, dabbing at the stain with the towel. I freeze, unsure of what to do.
“Hailey, go grab one of Daddy’s shirts out of the dresser.” His eyes never leave my chest. “I don’t care which one. Hurry.”
She hops up and makes her way up the stairs, which looks a little awkward. The way she stomps with purpose on each step makes it seem like she’s not accustomed to maneuvering them. My heart thuds as loud as her footsteps as I look down at Micah’s hand blotting the stain. I wonder if he can see my heartbeat; I sure can. The fabric of my blouse flutters with each beat.
Hailey comes back with a black t-shirt in hand. She shoves it between us, and like that the spell is broken. I can move again.
“Thank you, sweetie.” Micah takes the shirt from Hailey and hands it to me. “Here. Go put this on. We’ll wash your top, and hopefully we got it quickly enough that the stain comes out. Bathroom’s down the hall to the left.”
I feel silly coming out of the bathroom with my nice skirt and a t-shirt that says “World’s Okayest Dad” in bold print, but at least I’m out of the damp blouse.
Micah perks up when I get back to the living room. “Cool. Here, give me your shirt, and I’ll throw it in the washer.”
“That’s okay. I should be getting home, anyway. I’ll just start laundry when I get back.”
That seems to deflate him. “Oh. You’re not going to finish your omelet?”
I rub the back of my neck. I’ve already made an ass of myself. Do I really want to hang around for more? “I’m full, actually. Is it okay if I bring your shirt back later? I’ll make sure to wash it for you, too.”
His lips twist into a grin, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’ve been wearing it all of two seconds. You don’t need to wash it.”
As I leave, I get the impression I’ve said or done something to hurt Micah’s feelings, but I haven’t a clue what. Hailey waves goodbye from the front door, and I wave back before turning onto my sidewalk and heading inside.
Chapter 5
Micah
Well, that sucked. I don’t know what spooked Iris so bad, but she shot out of here like the place was on fire.
It was probably my fault, whatever it was. I’m so out of practice dealing with women other than Lisa that I’m sure I did something really wrong without even thinking. Was I too handsy when I tried to help with the stain? I did my best not to cop a feel while I was at it—and she didnotmake that easy! That top was cut down to nowhere, and it was hard not to stare.
Of course, I found myself staring anyway, even after she changed.
Hailey and I finish our breakfast, and I put on some cartoons for her while I clean up the kitchen. Iris’s unfinished omelet goes in the trash, along with what’s left of my pride.
The goofy cartoon music starts to blare, and I remind myself to find a new hiding place for the remote. “Hailey! Turn it back down.”
She whines, but she does as she’s told.
Once the kitchen’s spotless again, I come back to the living room and sit down next to Hailey on the couch. She snuggles to my side, and we watch her shows together for a while. Her latest hyperfixation is a show about little kids who live on an island and have adventures without any parents around. The show has decent themes, and the kids don’t ever do anything really wrong, but I wonder how good it is for her to be idolizing parentless kids. I’m sure Lisa would have something to say about it, though I have no idea what. The show premiered after she died.
She falls asleep after three hours of it, and I carry her upstairs to her bed for a nap. Since she’s out like a light, I decide to take a quick shower.
The steaming hot water beats down on me, and I duck my head under the stream to soak my hair. I’ve been letting it grow out a bit, mostly because I don’t have time to get to the barber. I always did that kind of thing while Lisa was watching Hailey, and I haven’t gotten the hang of working my schedule around a four-year-old. It was so much easier with someone else to help.
My thoughts turn to Iris as I start to scrub, remembering how her skin felt when I was blotting at the stain. It’s been so long since I’ve felt skin that soft, so long since I’ve even thought about touching a woman other than Lisa. Now I’ve moved in right next door to a sweet, sexy lady, and as far as I can tell, she’s available—which is both enticing and terrifying. Lisa’s only been gone a few months. Would she be mad at me if I made a move?
While my heart and my head argue over the moral implications of asking Iris on a date, my dick informs me that it heartily approves of the idea. It’s not long before I’m painfully hard, and I start panting quietly as I stroke it to relieve the discomfort. The image of Iris’s cleavage heaving as I patted at her shirt flashes in my memory. So firm and round, so different from Lisa’s, which had never quite been the same after Hailey. I hold onto that image, picturing what those breasts might look like bouncing beneath me. What Iris might look like. A soft moan escapes me as I jerk to a finish, and I lean my forehead against the tile while my body comes down from the orgasm.
Shit. Smooth move, Micah. Way to act like a total creeper. Barely met the woman a week ago, and already beating off while picturing her naked.
Lisa would kick my ass if she knew.
