Page 79 of Out Of A Fix

We were not a team, but that was a conversation for another time.

“Anyway, lots of food to procure and prepare.”

“We should trade in the Jeep for an SUV. It’s time, don’t you think?”

“I think Griff needs something he can drive, something safe, and then he can drop the kids off in the morning before he goes to school, and you can go right to work.”

He squinted at me. “Griff’s vehicle is a separate issue. We need a family car. I’m thinking a Toyota. We can go look after Thanksgiving. They always have deals then.”

I wasn’t going to be there after Thanksgiving, but reminding myself of that made my stomach hurt. “Can you focus, please?”

“Whatever you say.”

“So, is any of this planning for tonight coming back?”

“Not at all,” he replied, touching my jacket, the tips of his fingers slipping over the zipper teeth before he took hold. “But it doesn’t matter. One night of our house being a zoo is fine with me.”

Our house. I really needed to have a conversation with him about his use of possessive pronouns.

“That’s good,” I murmured. “Okay, so I gotta go, but I’ll see you⁠—”

“Where are you going?”

I didn’t want to say and so hesitated.

“Tell me,” he insisted, and I noted he’d slid a fraction closer. “You got a hot date, Miller?”

“At”—I checked my ancient Rolex that Jared had given me a hundred years ago—“a quarter to noon? My hot dates are for lunch? How old do you think I am?” I barked at him.

The idea that I was old and he was young—even though there were only nine years between us—bothered me. And that shouldn’t have been a problem, it shouldn’t have even crossed my mind, but it did. Yet another reason for me to be replaced in the Duchesne home. I knew what was best, in my head, but my heart was saying something else altogether.

“Not old, and I’m kidding,” he said, tugging on my jacket. “Let’s get lunch. I’m hungry.”

“I can’t. I have to go talk to someone.”

All that blue-green-ocean wonder of his gaze was focused on me. “Who? Tell me now.”

“Listen,” I said, taking hold of his arms and shifting him sideways, off balance, manhandling him out of my way. “I have to do things to keep you all safe, so when I say I gotta go speak to someone, you let me go.”

He moved faster than I thought he could, turning me around and pinning me face-first against the wall, his chest pressed to my back, his lips near my ear. “How about instead of secrets, which, you’ll understand, make me a bit rabid, you simply say what you’re doing.”

I was going to answer, but at that moment, he bumped his head on my shoulder, inhaled deeply, and then stepped back. When I rounded on him, he was still standing close. He had given me space, but not much. Not enough that I didn’t touch him when I moved.

“I shouldn’t have manhandled you,” I apologized. “That was⁠—”

“I don’t care,” he said, his voice ragged, husky. “You can see that, can’t you?”

He was making my breath catch and my skin heat, and my clothes felt two sizes too small. And he was a beautiful, charming man, so of course I’d be attracted, but it was him with his kids that showed me his heart. It was dangerous to want what I couldn’t have.

I willed myself to calm down and not spin him around, put him up against the opposite wall, and kiss him so long and so hard he’d have to shove me off him to breathe. No good could come of that.

“I wanna know where you’re going,” he demanded.

“I—”

“Actually, never mind. I’m going with you, and after that, you feed me.”

“That’s not⁠—”