Also, a touch creepy.
“That’s why we’re not standing,” Harmony stage-whispered back. “We’re sitting.”
April pointed to the staircase. “Downstairs. Breakfast.”
She used her best-she-could-do firm tone. But even three kids into this mom thing, she hadn’t quite mastered it.
April sat beside Harmony, matching her cross-legged seat, to better explain all the reasons they needed to skedaddle right out of there and get downstairs. Lola plopped down in April’s lap.
“Harmony, I’ll let you pick whatever you want for breakfast. Even a toaster tart, if that’s what you really want.” April rarely gave in to Harmony’s toaster tart addiction. “Rohan, I think I saw a new frog in the backyard. You should go check.”
If both of the older two left, Lola would follow. The dog, however, was probably not moving.
“There aren’t any new frogs in the backyard.” Harmony straight-up rolled her eyes. “Don’t fall for it, Ro.”
Rohan had a thing with trying to collect frogs. He’d been on a bit of a bender lately with the backyard frog hunts. He loved animals, though, so he was fine with the whole catch and release rule April had insisted on. Given that he hunted frogs only in her backyard and Simone’s, she was fairly certain hemightbe catching the same frog over and over again. They all looked the same to her, anyway.
“Ribbit,” he said, pointing to the door.
Right. Okay. So Jack-intrigue trumped frogs. Good to know. She might even use this knowledge to her advantage.
Once she got them all to move.
The doorknob clicked with the release of the lock, and April’s head drained of all feeling.
She started to stand, but with Lola unmoving on her lap, it was more of a baby deer style attempt at standing.
The door to the bathroom opened and there was Jack in all his glory reaching for his suit…wrapped in a white cotton towel.
Here’s the thing. When April had chosen white doors for the remodel, she’d chosen them because she thought they’d be bright and cheery. When she elected to paint the bathroom yellow, she’d done it because she thought it would make the small space feel bigger. Adding the skylight? That had been to ensure enough lighting.
She had done none of those things knowing that when Jack Gibson stepped onto that threshold between the bathroom and the landing, he’d look like an angel. An angelwitha halo and everything.
Harmony gasped.
Mayonnaise let out a low growl.
Yeah, that.
Halo or not, crap on a crumpet, shirtless Jack was breathtaking.
The ambiance of the makeshift halo was simply the cherry on top of the ice cream sundae of Jack.
“Uh.” His gaze moved around the semicircle of Davises sitting right outside the door—April included. “Good morning, everyone.” He drew that last word out.
Mayonnaise hefted herself up on her paws to meander over toward Jack.
“Do you want to have a tea party?” Harmony asked as she stood. “With me.” She pointed to her little eight-year-old chest.
“Um…” Jack frowned, then caught himself and grinned a half smile, his gaze slipping to April. He frowned again before recovering.
Right. Her eye.
Shit. She covered her non-made-up eyelid with her palm. Of course, here was Jack in his towel of glory while she sat outside with her kids like they’d been ready to have a campfire on the landing and sing camp songs, all with eye makeup on only one eyelid.
Nice. Excellent. Very smooth, April.
This is precisely what happened when a woman tried too hard. She ended up with one eye made up and one eye not, and a whole passel of kids who listened only when it suited them.
