Summer with the Single Dad, page 12
“It’s like we’re family. All of us in here together,” Aya said with a wide-eyed innocence that pulled viciously at Justine’s heartstrings.
Justine’s gaze met Bennett’s and even though he wasn’t as nearly as freaked out as she was, she could see the trepidation on his face.
“I, uh … I’m not actually feeling very well,” she stammered. “I think I’ll skip the sorbet tonight and just retire to my room, if that’s okay?”
“Whaaaaat?” Aya’s pout made Justine want to give the child everything she ever asked for in the world, be it a pony or a bowl of raspberry sorbet.
Bennett gently squeezed his youngest daughter’s shoulder. “Justine’s had a long day.”
“Want us to bring you some sorbet to your room?” Emme asked.
“No, I … I think I’ll skip dessert.”
“Does your tummy hurt?” Aya probed. “Do you need some Tums? Or a belly massage? Daddy massages my tummy when it hurts, or if I have to poo but can’t.” She glanced up at her father. “You can massage Justine’s tummy for her, right?” Her gaze swung back to Justine. “Do you need to poo? Because we have gummies for that. I was constipated after I refused to eat my vegetables for a week. So Daddy bought me these gummies that make you poop. Do you need one? Daddy, grab Justine a poop gummy.”
Bennett groaned, dropped his gaze, and shook his head.
“I … I have to go,” Justine blurted before dashing out of the kitchen and taking the stairs two at a time. She didn’t intend to slam the bedroom door, but the window was open and a warm gust of wind kicked it shut with abrupt force.
She bounced a little when she sat down on Bennett’s bed, staring at the hardwood floor and the dark blue runner.
This was a terrible idea.
She needed to leave.
Staying here, in this house with such a wonderful man and such captivating children … it wasn’t fair to any of them. Not to Bennett, not to the girls, and not to Justine’s heart.
But she also couldn’t bring herself to pack up and leave.
Eventually, the sky outside grew dark and noises in the house drifted upstairs where the girls were getting ready for bed.
Bennett deterred Aya from knocking on Justine’s door twice. The deep sigh of confusion and regret from the little seven-year-old made its way through the thick wooden door and buried itself in Justine’s chest.
“Did we do something wrong?” Aya asked as Bennett tucked her into bed. “Did I say something to make Justine mad?”
“Where’s Mummy Kitty?” Bennett asked, ignoring her question. “Where’s your stuffy?”
“Mummy Kitty is right here, under my pillow. She’s fine, Dad. But did I do something to make Justine mad?”
Justine crept closer to her closed bedroom door to eavesdrop better.
“No, Little Bug. I don’t think so. I think Justine is just tired and the change from the cabin to a house full of people—particularly a house with two little girls who never stop asking questions—” Aya started to giggle which meant he was probably tickling her. “Is probably overwhelming.”
“When will I get to stay up later like Emme?”
“When you don’t turn into a Crabby Kathy after seven o’clock. Maybe this summer we can talk about shuffling your bedtime. But right now, when it takes you twenty minutes to drag your grumpy butt out of bed in the morning, seven thirty is bedtime.”
“I’m not grumpy.”
“I was worried your face was going to stay that way yesterday morning.”
“It’s because I had to go to school yesterday. I don’t frown on the weekends. Today is Saturday and I’ve been happy all day. I even woke up happy.”
“Goodnight, my sweet, argumentative child.”
“Can I say goodnight to Justine?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s probably asleep. And you asking all of these questions has probably woken her up.”
“Then I can say goodnight to her now that she’s awake.”
“Aya Lucia Lopez McEvoy, it is bedtime. I mean it.”
All Justine could hear was a child-like growl, but she only had to imagine what kind of a Grumpy Cat face Aya was making. She probably had her arms crossed over her chest and her brows furrowed until they met in the middle, like kissing caterpillars. That image made her smile.
“Give me a kiss.”
“Fine. But this kiss has anger in it.”
“Felt like it just had love in it.”
More growling.
“I love you. Good night.”
His footsteps padded away down the hallway, then down the stairs where soft murmuring between him and Emme echoed, but were indecipherable.
Justine went about brushing her teeth and washing her face. Bennett’s bedroom—his whole house really—was incredible. But the bathroom was a work of art. With two big sinks, a deep soaker tub in front of a huge window with the view of the sound, and a spectacular stand up shower with a bench. She looked forward to trying it out after her run in the morning.
Then the idea of trying it out with Bennett bombarded her brain and her cheeks grew warm.
She was just rubbing lotion into her legs when there was a delicate rap at her bedroom door. It couldn’t have been Bennett based on how low the knock was.
Her mouth started to twitch into a smile as she reached for the knob and silently opened it. Big brown eyes stared up at her hopefully.
Not saying a word, she opened the door enough for Aya to enter, then closed it just as quietly.
“I’m sorry if I said something to make you leave and not have dessert with us,” Aya said softly. Her eyes were rimmed with red and her face was blotchy like she’d been crying.
Justine sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled Aya over. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart. I’m … I was overwhelmed with how welcome you all made me feel. I didn’t grow up in a family like yours.”
“Were you parents mean to you?”
“No. They were … they just weren’t fun parents. They’re not fun people. They made my sisters and I compete for everything. Even dinner was full of quiz questions and only the winner got dessert.”
Aya’s eyes went buggy and her mouth dropped open. “That’s so mean.”
“I guess I just got sad and overwhelmed at how wonderful your life and family are and how …” She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment to find the right words. “How challenging dinners were with my family. I never got dessert.”
“Because you didn’t win the quizzes?”
Justine nodded.
“But you’re a doctor. You’re smart.”
“My parents and my sisters are also doctors. And it’s not that I didn’t know the answers, it was just that my sisters were faster.”
“Well, that’s not fair.”
“No … I suppose not. But my mother liked to tell me that life wasn’t fair, and she was preparing me for life. That in order to get dessert, you needed to be a shark.”
“Sharks are mean. They bite people’s legs off when they’re swimming.”
“That’s true. So when you said we were like a family and offered me dessert, it just made me sad about my life when I was your age. I just needed some space.”
Aya nodded, seeming to comprehend what Justine told her. “I’m sorry your mom was mean. I think if you get the answer right, you should get dessert. My teacher tells us that it’s not like only one person in the class can get ten out of ten on their spelling test. We can all get ten out of ten. We can all do well.”
“Your teacher is right. We can all succeed. We can all do well and we don’t have to be sharks and bite off other people’s legs to do it.” She squeezed Aya’s hand, but that just prompted the little girl to throw her arms around Justine’s neck and hug her so tight her little body started to shake.
“We didn’t eat all the sorbet, so if you want some later, you can have some.”
They were still locked in a tight embrace and that offer of dessert was what broke Justine’s dam of composure and made her hug the little girl back. Not as tightly, but boy, did she want to. Her throat grew tight and unshed tears stung the back of her eyes. “Thank you,” she murmured into Aya’s blonde curls, that smelled like coconuts.
Aya pulled away and her breath stuttered as she smiled. “I’m glad you’re not mad at me.”
“I don’t think I could ever be mad at you.”
“Emme and my dad get mad at me.”
“Well, they’re crazy.”
That made her giggle.
“But you should probably get back to bed before your dad—”
“Aya?” Bennett’s voice tinged with panic swept through the closed bedroom door. “Aya?” He shuffled down the hallway, presumably to check the bathroom. “Em, where’s your sister?”
“I dunno.”
Justine gave Aya a look that said she needed to come clean and the little girl nodded, her cheeks getting rosier as she prepared to meet her fate. Justine escorted her to the door and opened it just as Bennett was lifting his fist to knock.
“Hi, Dad.”
Relief banished the worry on his face. But as quickly as that relief came, it was gone, replaced with what could only be a melee of embarrassment and irritation.
“Aya Lucia—”
“I know, Dad. You don’t need to say all my names. I’m sorry.” She glanced up at Justine. “Eat some dessert. It’ll make you feel better.” Then she muttered another apology to her father and with hunched shoulders, walked herself to her room.
Bennett’s mouth hung open, his eyes just as wide as he watched his youngest child put herself back to bed. Emme was brushing her teeth in the doorway of the bathroom watching it all with mild interest. “I told you she would sneak out,” she said, shaking her head, then returning to the bathroom to spit.
Bennett rolled his eyes at Emme before returning his gaze to Justine. “I am so sorry.”
“It’s fine. Really, it’s okay. In fact, I appreciate her coming. She’s very mature for seven.”
His eyes formed thin slits. “She’s exasperating for seven.”
“Aren’t all seven-year-olds exasperating?”
“Maybe. She just seems more so.”
“She’s clever, and sweet, and empathic. She’s a joy. Both girls are.”
Emme emerged from the bathroom in a pair of pajama pants with heart-shaped cherries on them, and a black T-shirt. She gave a big yawn before tying her curly brown hair up into a ponytail on the top of her head like a pineapple. “Mom taught us this,” she said. “Keeps the curls from getting too crazy while we sleep.” She smiled sleepily at her dad. “’Night, Dad.”
“Good night, Sunshine.” He ran his hand over the back of her head and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be in to tuck you in in just a sec.”
She yawned again. “’Night, Justine.”
“Goodnight, Emme.”
Emerson smiled and disappeared into her room, which was on the other side of the bathroom.
Bennett glanced once more at Justine. “I’m sorry if we overwhelmed you. You absolutely don’t have to eat with us. And please don’t let my daughters bully you into it. Disappointment won’t kill them.”
A smile tried to grace her mouth, but it didn’t work. “It’s nice to be invited and included in things. I just … I got in my head. I’m sorry I left so abruptly.”
“No need to apologize.”
God, she hated how formal and stiff their interactions were now. It felt wooden and fake. Did he feel it too? Did it feel as awkward and frustrating for him as it did her?
“Well, goodnight. And there is still sorbet in the freezer. You’re welcome to it.” He smiled once more, this time a sad smile that left the corners of his eyes untouched, then disappeared into Emme’s room.
Justine didn’t wait around to see him leave Emme’s room, and quickly sequestered herself back into her little hovel. It was only eight thirty, but she was used to retiring early, given that she got up at five o’clock to run.
With a heavy sigh, she climbed into bed and reached for her book. She was determined to get through at least a few of the paperbacks she brought with her—even if it killed her.
But she must have re-read the same paragraph sixteen times because her brain was too tuned into the sounds of the house. The sounds that Bennett was making downstairs. Then upstairs in the bathroom when he came to brush his teeth.
Was he wearing a shirt?
What did his feet look like?
She’d never been a foot person—she actually found them kind of gross—but something told her Bennett had big feet. Nice feet.
Why the hell did that thought pop into her head?
She slammed the heel of her palm against her forehead. “Stop it. Just. Stop.”
It was ten o’clock by the time she turned out the light and snuggled under the covers. Under Bennett’s covers. Because she was in Bennett’s bed. Where he slept. Where he … did other things that most people did. It took every ounce of willpower she had not to open up his nightstand drawer and snoop. But he probably took any lube or masturbatory devices out before she moved in. He wasn’t an idiot.
He was the opposite.
He was considerate. He was kind. He was patient.
He was smart.
He was sexy.
He was … everything she’d ever hoped for in a partner.
Too bad she didn’t deserve him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
She should have known better. In fact, she did know better. So why didn’t she do it?
Why didn’t she set her alarm for four in the morning, or six, so that way she avoided running with Bennett? Because she was such a creature of habit that her body woke up at five o’clock without an alarm. And … she wanted to see him. She wanted to run with him.
But she refused to admit that last part and blamed her military-precise circadian rhythm.
When she descended the stairs to have her protein shake in the kitchen, she wasn’t surprised, but pretended that she was, when Bennett was already there, standing over the sink, having his own protein shake. Her face and chest heated as the very vivid dreams from last night came flooding back. Especially when he lifted the blender bottle and his bicep popped in his tight-fitting fitness shirt.
The dreams had been hyper-realistic.
And dirty.
Every single one left her breathless, her panties damp, and her body flushed.
All of them left her needing a cold shower and with a hollow feeling in a very intimate part of her body.
“Oh, uh, sorry,” she said, as she came to an abrupt stop just on the edge of the kitchen.
“Why are you apologizing?” How was he able to make a black, moisture-wicking, long-sleeve running shirt with the reflective stripes, black running shorts, and a headlamp look like a freaking sexy tuxedo? It was incredibly unfair. And she couldn’t look away.
“I … I don’t know.” The man left her tongue tied and the longer she stared at that popped bicep, the hotter her body grew, and the more those dreams flashed into her mind.
He gave his shaker bottle a thorough rattle, then gulped down the rest of the chocolatey mixture, mesmerizing her with each sexy undulation of his prominent Adam’s apple.
Why was that a turn on? Why did everything he do turn her on?
She should have left her protein powder and shaker in her room. There was no need to keep it in the kitchen. When she got back after her run, she’d move it.
“You fuel up before a run too?” he asked, rinsing out his blender bottle.
She nodded and told herself, and her libido, to calm down. “I can’t workout on an empty stomach, but I also can’t workout with anything real in my stomach either. Protein powder and water is the perfect solution.” She scooped her chocolate powder into her own shaker bottle and filled it up from the sink.
“Same here,” he said, watching her with an interest that made her belly flutter. “So … do you want to run together? Or are we going to awkwardly set out at the same time but not run together? I can take a different route or leave later? Run at a faster pace …”
She took the obnoxious sound of the spring in her shaker bottle rattling against the plastic as a way to delay her response. There was no way to not offend him, or make it awkward. She had to agree.
She also wanted to run with him, even though it had bad idea written all over it.
“N-no, we can run together,” she said, before tipping the bottle up to her mouth and draining the shake.
“Awesome. Jagger will be here any minute, then we can head out.”
He left her in the kitchen, pondering why he rendered her a tongue-tied puddle and also how he got biceps like that. She should have set her alarm for four.
Maybe she’d do that tomorrow.
No, because he’d know and get offended. There is no way out of this without hurting him or making it awkward.
Ugh. Her conscience was right.
She rinsed out the bottle and left it to dry on the counter, joining Bennett by the front door as he tied his shoes. She was just tying her last shoe when the door opened to reveal a very handsome, bearded man, taller than Bennett, and with extremely broad shoulders. He wore flannel pajama pants and a gray hoodie. All he did was grunt at Bennett, give Justine a quick grunt of a “hello” and a half-lifted brow before he dramatically flopped onto the couch and pulled a throw blanket over himself.
“Thanks, bro,” Bennett said, hanging onto the still open door.
Jagger grunted like the bear he resembled.
Justine followed Bennett out into the dark. Soon, they wouldn’t need headlamps because the days were getting longer and the sunrise would be earlier. Already the slivers of a new day penetrated the morning, and the winking stars no longer had their midnight brilliance.
“Shall we?” he asked, smiling at her and turning on his headlamp.
She nodded, and they walked down to the gate. “I’ve given you your own code. It’s 4-7-7-6. Works for the main door and the gate. Want to give it a try?”
She punched in the code for the man door and it clicked open. Why did that bring her so much joy?
