“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” I ask
“Nope,” he says. “You can head on up if you want. I’m going to finish some things here, then go over Cassie’s homework with her.”
“I can do that.” When his head rears back, I realize I’ve overstepped. I’m here to cook and clean, not step in to do mommy things with Cassie. “Oh, sorry, I just meant, I could watch her if you were busy in the shop.”
He scrubs his chin and looks around. “Actually it would really be helpful. I need about an hour to finish this job.” He points to the car up on hoists, one that wasn’t there this morning. “It’s a rush job for a buddy. I was going to work on it after Cassie went to bed, but if I could get it done now, that would give me more time to read with her before she goes to sleep.”
My chest squeezes. “Sure, I’m here to help with anything, Jaxon. Anything at all. All you have to do is ask.”
His head dips, as his eyes lift to move slowly over my face, and my heart nearly stops as the blue bleeds into the black. Jesus, did he take my words to be sexual? And why does everything feel so electrical between us. Like we could light up a city block in a black out. For a week.
“Cassie,” I say quickly, and hold a hand out to her. “Why don’t you come on up with me, and we can set you up at the kitchen table while I tidy.”
Cassie looks at her dad, and he explains. “Rachel is going to be our new housekeeper for a little while. She’s going to help with the dishes, laundry and even babysit you, and I’m going to fix her car for her.”
“Oh, okay,” Cassie says, taking it all in stride. “Gina has a babysitter sometimes. She lets her stay up late and eat ice cream.”
Jaxon laughs as he helps her from the crate she’s standing on. “Nice try, kiddo.”
I laugh with Jaxon as his precocious child takes my hand. She chats endlessly about some boy at school named Jacob who pulled her ponytail as we climb the stairs. I shove a full basket of dirty laundry out of our path, and usher her into the kitchen and she hops up on the chair.
“What do you have for homework?” I ask.
“I have to draw a picture of my family.”
“Oh that’s nice.”
She frowns. “Daddy says I can put Mommy in the picture if I want. It’s up to me.”
I nod. That must have been what they were talking about so intently. I help empty her backpack, and clean out her lunch box.
“Why don’t you go ahead and get started and I’ll tidy up the kitchen.”
She dumps a box of crayons on the table and starts humming as I turn my attention to the dishes. I fill the sink with water, take a cloth to wipe down the counters, then wash and dry all the dishes. As I dry, I take a peek at the drawing.
I grin when I see the picture of her dad. A big stick man, with a circle around his biceps, to represent bulging muscles I assume. Beside her father is a little girl with her hair in a ponytail, and two other people, a man and a woman. “That’s very good, Cassie.”
“I don’t want to put Mommy in the picture.”
“Well, you don’t have to.” My heart hurts for the little girl as I put my hand on her head and run her ponytail through my fingers. “Who are the people beside you?”
“That’s Grandma and Grandpa. Grandma always wears pretty beads.” She adds in a bunch of circles around the neck.
I gaze at her grandparents. She only drew one set, and I wonder about that. Are they from her mother’s or father’s side of the family? If the mother’s, does Jaxon not have his parents, or any siblings, or is he as alone in this world like I am?
“Do you have any cousins, Cassie?”
“What’s a cousin?”
Guess that answers my question.
A noise at the door catches my attention. “How’s it going up here?”
The second I look at Jaxon, take in his hard, athletic body and gorgeous blue eyes, my damn ovaries contract. Jesus, no man should walk around looking that good. “Cassie was just telling me about her grandparents, and how her grandma likes to wear beads.” Unable to help myself I ask. “The in-laws you mentioned?”
He gives a curt nod, and then says, “Thanks, Rachel.” Clearly not wanting to talk about them, he steps past me, and his warm scent reaches my nostrils. “I really appreciate this.” He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and cracks it open, and I watch carefully—too carefully—the way his muscles pull tight as he swallows. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and casually says, “I’m making spaghetti for supper. You can stay if you like.”
“Thanks, but I have to hit the books before I go to work. I’m going to toss a load of laundry in the washer for you, then take off. I can come back tomorrow and do the floors and whatever else needs to be done. On my nights off, I can even prepare dinner for you both, too. I’m a pretty good cook.”
“Then I might take you up on that, because my only specialty is spaghetti and it comes from a jar.”
“I like spaghetti, Daddy.”
“I know you do, honey.”
Grinning, I set the dishtowel down, and make my way to the laundry basket. Once I get the load of laundry going, I peek into the kitchen. “See you both tomorrow.”
Jaxon’s eyes lift, and when he directs those bedroom blues at me, it’s possible to forget every sane thought. “I look forward to it,” he says.
I look forward to it.
Oh, God, so do I and I really wish that wasn’t the case. I give a finger wave to
