Ruth takes a deep breath, her shoulders lifting and falling on the inhale and exhale. “I guess the sooner she meets me, the better. It will give her more opportunity to think you’re smitten.”
“Smitten? You want me to be smitten?” I’m not sure I can pull that off. I can be flirtatious and affectionate, but smitten is a different level of this game. It’s right up there with enamored and obsessed, and would require me acting like…
Titus and Toby.
So maybe I’ll be fine after all.
“Idon’t want you to be anything.” Ruth gives my chest a little poke with one finger. “Youwant you to appear smitten because it’s what will get your mother off your back.”
I nod, mentally cataloguing everything I’ve seen my brothers say and do. “I think I can make it happen.”
I look over the woman next to me, taking in her dark hair and full lips. Oh yeah. I can make it happen. If I were ever interested in being smitten, Ruth is definitely the kind of woman who would inspire it.
I angle a brow. “What about you? Shouldn’t you be smitten with me too?”
Ruth gives me a slow smile. One I haven’t seen from her before, but do experience on a regular basis. It’s the smile of an interested woman. And for some reason, it shoots straight to my dick, making him perk up for the first time in months.
“What woman wouldn’t be smitten with you?” Her hand comes to my chest, flattening against my sternum as she leans into me. “You are the ultimate catch.”
I’m a little flustered, but only because of the sudden shift in the woman beside me. I resist the urge to shift in my seat, managing to only fidget a little bit as her fingers tease against the fabric of my shirt. Clearing my throat, I fight to keep my voice normal as I say, “So obviously you’re pretty capable of pretending to be smitten.”
The sultry smile leaves Ruth's face, replaced by a more genuine expression. “Yeah? It was good?”
My head bobs in a nod as I will my dick back in line. “Very good.”
Maybe too good, because for a hot second there, I was a little worried all my harmless flirting with Ruth might not be as harmless as I thought it would be.
“Uh-oh.” Birdie’s little voice offers a blessed distraction, dragging my attention from her pretty mother to the section of my great room dedicated to her entertainment.
Ruth is up off the couch in a heartbeat, rushing to where her daughter has accidentally tipped the bubble machine over and isnow using her hands to spread the sticky liquid across the wood floor.
I’m laughing as I stand up, the glee the toddler is experiencing clearly contagious.
Although, maybe not universally, because her mother doesn’t look amused. At all.
Ruth actually looks… Panicked.
“I’m so sorry.” She grabs the bubble machine, setting it upright before quickly searching the space around her. “If you get me something to clean this up with, I’ll take care of it.”
“You don’t have to worry about it.” I tip my head toward the toddler now coated in the tacky gel. “Why don’t you clean her up, and I’ll get this.”
Ruth’s eyes come to my face, brows pinching as she blinks up at me like she doesn’t understand what I’m suggesting.
So I elaborate. “There’s a half-bath right next to the kitchen. Use whatever towels you need. If you want to throw her clothes into the washer, let me know.”
Ruth still doesn’t move. Just continues staring at me like I’ve grown two heads.
Since she seems to be struggling for some reason, I go ahead and scoop her daughter up, holding Birdie’s messy form at arm’s length as I walk to the bathroom, hoping Ruth follows.
I’m extra grateful I went ahead and ordered a stepstool for in here, because it makes setting Birdie up at the sink a breeze. I perch her little feet on the platform, close the safety bar at her back, and switch on the warm water. She’s clearly a professional hand washer, because I don’t have to give any directions. Ruth’s toddler immediately has her fingers in the splash zone, enjoying the sink just as much as she did the bubble liquid.
“I can handle this.” Ruth’s voice is quiet. Low and almost hesitant. Very different from how it normally is as she steps inbeside me.
I’m not sure if I’ve done something wrong, or if she’s just that upset over a little spilled liquid, but I decide to give her a minute and leave her and Birdie in the bathroom alone.
Grabbing a few towels from the kitchen and a damp rag, I quickly mop up the mess from the floor. It takes a few trips to the sink to rinse out the soapy residue, but soon, my floor’s good as new. Like nothing even happened.
Honestly, it really wouldn’t matter if it wasn’t. It’s not super hard to pop up a few floor boards and replace them. It’s an important lesson I’ve learned. Plenty of things are just that easy to fix. So there’s not much worth getting worked up over.
