Ducking into my room as Tucker and my daughter make their way downstairs, I flop face first onto the bed, groaning into the pillows at my dumbassery. I should not be lusting after a manwho is nice enough to help me. I sure as hell shouldn’t be lusting after Tucker Bradshaw.
Unfortunately, he’s proving himself to be very lustworthy.
Rolling onto my back, I stare up at the ceiling. There’s no way I’m going to fall back asleep. Probably not going to be able to doom scroll either. Not when my brain is preoccupied by so many other things.
Tucker Bradshaw shaped things.
Pinching my lower lip between my teeth, I can’t help but wonder about at least one Tucker Bradshaw shaped thing.
No.Badbrain. No thinking about Tucker’s dick.
Groaning again, I manage to get myself off the mattress and stumble to where my clothes are still mostly packed. Digging through my options, I finally pull out a pair of striped, elastic waist, wide leg pants and a coordinating short-sleeved shirt. I get dressed, put a few quick curls into my hair, and slide on a pair of loafers before going downstairs.
The first time I went to work with Tucker, I dressed like he did, sporting jeans and a sweater. Then I met Brooke and ended up feeling woefully underdressed. Now, I try to be at least a little bit professional looking. I don’t have a ton of options—hotels usually provide uniforms for all the public-facing staff—but I have a few cute outfits I can bust out.
And this morning I’m kinda feeling myself. My hair looks good, my outfit is flattering, and the perfume I spritzed on smells extra yummy for some reason.
My good mood definitely has nothing to do with the accidental orgasm I experienced last night. Absolutely not.
After collecting what Birdie will need while we’re at the office, I head downstairs, as ready as I’m going to be to start the day.
And to face Tucker.
By the time I reach the bottom of the stairs, my face is hot, but I ignore it. This is fine. Everythingis fine.
Until I reach the kitchen and nearly fall over my own feet.
Tucker is sitting at the island, his tablet set up in front of him on the counter, playing a familiar cartoon I haven’t seen in years. Birdie is perched on one of his knees, opening her mouth for another bite as he talks to her softly.
“This is what I watched when I was a kid.” He scoops up a bit of scrambled egg and carefully puts it in her mouth. “I don’t remember it being quite this annoying though.”
Four Australian guys in brightly colored shirts are rolling down a hill, singing a song that’s going to be stuck in my head all freaking day.
Along with the sight of Tucker and my daughter sitting together like two peas in a pod, eating breakfast and singing along with a tune about cows mooing.
Who would have thought that’s what would lead to my ovaries exploding?
Definitely not me.
21
Ruth
“Good morning.” I smile at Ray, giving him a wave as I pass the security desk situated in the center of the foyer at McKinley Security Systems.
“Good morning, Miss Wagner.” He winks at Birdie. “And, little Miss Wagner.”
Ray is one of my favorite people here. He’s old enough to be my dad. Loves his family. And has the most positive disposition.
He also always has a treat for Birdie, which makes him one of her favorite people too.
As he does every morning when we come in, Ray digs into one pocket, pulling out a surprise for my daughter. Today, it’s a tiny, plush otter that fits perfectly in my daughter’s little hands. She grabs it away eagerly, squealing with excitement over her newest acquisition.
I smile almost as big as the security guard does at her adorable reaction. “Do you have any grandkids, Ray?”
We’ve talked about his wife and his kids, and all the fun he had when they were growing up, but we’ve never discussedwhether or not he’s a granddad. I really hope so, because he is clearly made for the job.
“Not yet.” His attention stays on Birdie. “I guess I’ll just have to keep practicing on your little one.”
