“Great.” He bows his head, but not before I catch the relief on his face.
My stomach swoops in response.
Fuck this attraction. I’m hopeless when it comes to him.
Eager to put a little distance between us, I stand. “I better get ready. Don’t want to show up to the studio in sleep shorts and cause a scandal.”
I scoop up my plate and mug and carry them to the sink. As I cross the kitchen, his eyes on me feel like a heavy weight. Not in a bad way; it’s just hard to ignore.
“I can imagine some of the moms making a stink. Your legs look endless in those shorts.”
My heart skips a beat, halting me in my tracks. He didn’t just say that, did he?
Unable to look back at him for fear I’ll discover I’m hallucinating, I scurry to the doorway. “Thanks.”
“Ry?”
Sighing, I turn back. Instantly, I find myself drowning in his green eyes.
“Thank you for breakfast. I really appreciate it,” he says softly.
“Anytime.”
With that, I head to my room, willing myself not to read into any of this.
14
to my guilt
HAYDEN
When Ines opens the door,I’m hit with a spicy, herbal scent. Her eyes sparkle as I hand over the cup of coffee I picked up on my way.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” she murmurs. “Thank you so much for coming.”
“Of course.” I hold out the bag of croissants. “A special delivery for you and Santi.”
She takes it, a red hue spreading across her cheeks. “You didn’t have to.”
“Nonsense. There are two chocolate and two with blueberries and mascarpone. The girl at the counter swears they taste heavenly, so I couldn’t resist.”
Ines chuckles. “I see why you’re so good with kids. It’s because, deep down, you’re a kid too.”
“Rude!” I say, feigning offense. “But very accurate.”
In the living room, Santi is busy building a fortress with throw pillows, a blanket, and two chairs. The tip of his tongue sticks out from the corner of his mouth, and his brows are pulled together. He doesn’t notice me until I crouch behind him and say, “Hey, buddy.”
He perks up and turns to me. Eyes ready to pop out of theirsockets, he throws his arms around my neck and yells “Tío!” in my ear.
I hug him back, holding him close. The scent of lavender in his hair takes me back to my own childhood and causes a warm, fuzzy sensation. Lavender was Piper’s favorite scent when she was small. Still is.
“How are you, little man?” I ask with a grin.
“Good! I make home,” he says, chest puffed out with pride.
“A home? I was sure you were building a fortress.” Humming, I study the construction. “Do you need my help?”
