“I thought you might say that.” Nick unbuttoned his shirt cuffs with a sigh. He rolled up both sleeves all the way to his elbows.
“You don’t have to help me wash the dishes. I can do that mysel—Nick!” I cried, laughing as he slung me over his shoulder. “What are you doing?! You’re going to hurt your—”
“Shhhh! You’re going to wake the kids.” The kitchen disappeared behind me as he carried me up the stairs to my bedroom. I waited for him to plop me down on my rumpled sheets, my anticipation turning to disappointment as he walked right past my unmade bed and straight into the bathroom. He set me down on the edge of the tub before I could utter a protest.
He scooped out Zach and Delia’s bath toys, put the stopper in the drain, and turned on the faucet. Then he reached for the jug ofMr. Bubble and poured a generous glob of it under the stream. “I’ll be back in a minute. I want you undressed and in that tub when I get back,” he said in his most authoritative tone. I was having second thoughts about not wanting to have sex as I watched him walk out of the bathroom.
I stripped off my sweatshirt and lollipop-smeared yoga pants and sank down gingerly into the steaming water. The tub was almost full by the time Nick returned, holding a glass of milk and a paper plate full of store-bought cookies. He set them beside me and turned off the water, leaving and returning once more with a single towel.
“Aren’t you coming in?”
“I’mgoing downstairs.Youare going to relax.” He put a cookie in my hand and walked out the door.
The water was cool, the cookies were gone, and my fingers were prunes by the time I finally pulled the plug on the drain and dried off. I wrapped my clean hair in a towel and put on the pajamas Nick had set out for me, then I left the bathroom to find him. He wasn’t waiting for me in bed like I had hoped. Instead, I found it made with fluffed pillows and fresh linens. I padded downstairs. The laundry I’d left on the couch was folded and piled neatly back in the basket, and the dishwasher was humming quietly.
Nick was working at the stubborn sticky spots on the counter with a sponge, and the effort was doing lovely things for both his backside and my libido. “Did I pass?” he asked me as he scrubbed.
“Are you trying to ace some kind of test?” I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my chin on his hunched shoulder. “You do realize the chores aren’t this easy when the kids are actually awake, right?”
“You don’t think I can do it?”
I closed my eyes, relishing the way his muscles moved under my hands. “I’m just saying, it’s easy to get things done when the kids are asleep, assuming you have the energy after they’ve run you ragged all day.”
He tossed the sponge into the sink and turned around to face me, his eyes making a slow pass down the front of my pajamas. “I have the energy for all kinds of things.” He leaned back against the counter with a lethal grin.
And damn if the heated look in his eyes wasn’t a shot of adrenaline straight to my chest. “Suddenly, so do I.”
CHAPTER 3
I woke as the mattress shifted beside me. Nick sat up abruptly, his bare chest silhouetted by the faint pink light creeping through the blinds. I opened my mouth to ask him what time it was, but he held a finger to his lips. He slid silently out from between the sheets and retrieved his pants from the floor.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him in a hushed voice.
“I heard something downstairs,” he whispered as he dragged them on.
Then I heard it, too. A quiet creak, like a door opening. But it was too early for Zach or Delia to be awake yet.
I tipped my head and heard the distinct sound of the front door clicking shut.
I bolted upright. Nick gestured for me to stay where I was as he unsheathed his gun from its holster and peered between the blinds.
“It’s Javi,” he said, his voice rough from sleep. “His car’s parked outside.”
I sagged with relief. “What’s he doing here at this hour?”
“More important, why is he letting himself into your house?” Nick didn’t bother putting on a shirt. I didn’t like the hard set of hisjaw, or the fact that he hadn’t paused to holster his gun as he opened the bedroom door.
“Nick, wait!” I hastily pulled on a T-shirt and chased him into the hall. I found him face-to-face with Javi at the top of the stairs, in front of the children’s bedroom doors. Javi wasn’t dressed in the paint-spattered blue coveralls he usually wore for work. He was wearing dark jeans, boots, and a leather jacket. A large duffel bag was slung over his shoulder.
“You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you,” Nick said in a low voice. “I thought someone was breaking in.”
Javi looked at him with unfiltered disgust. “I have a key,” he said, holding it up as evidence. He took a step toward Vero’s room, but Nick stood in his path. Javi glared at him. “What do I have to do, sayOfficer, may I?”
“More likeFinlay, may I.” Nick’s voice was a strained whisper, as if he was gritting his teeth to keep it down. “It’s quarter to seven, Javi. You let yourself into Finlay’s house while her kids are asleep.”
Javi’s eyes flicked to me, a fraction more apologetic than they’d been a moment ago. He lowered his voice. “I just came to get Vero’s things,” he said, stepping around Nick and into Vero’s room. He unzipped his duffel and began filling it with the contents of Vero’s closet.
I put a hand on Nick’s shoulder and handed him his shirt. “I’ll handle it,” I said quietly.
