“No, but there’s a liquor store down the street.”
“You probably have stuff to do.”
“I do. Like make you coffee cake. And you’re going to help.”
Dark, thick brows crawled up his forehead, and a lazy smilecurved his lips.
“First things first,” she rushed on. “My baking’s muchbetter with a shot of Crown.”
“I guess this is the part where I hustle out to get myJameson?”
“This would be that part. But hurry, or I’m taking the goodapron.”
He barked out a laugh. “The good apron?”
She nodded, and he stepped lively to the front door. “Shit. On my way. Wouldn’t want to get stuck with the bad apron,whatever the hell that is.”
Minutes later, she was still laughing to herself, clatteringmeasuring cups, when the door opened. “Back already?”
“Back? From where?”
Natalie whirled. “Mom! I wasn’t expecting you.”
Her mom sashayed over like a Southern belle, not theColorado cowgirl she was. Natalie loved that about her. Her mom leaned in andkissed Natalie’s cheeks, wrapping her mom smell around her. Natalie loved thatabout her too.
“I was headed this way and thought I’d drop off some ham.Ooh, what are you making?”
“Coffee cake.” Natalie peeked beneath a tall foil tentcovering a platter her mom held. “This is Easter dinner for eight, Mom. Itwon’t fit—”
“You’ve been looking a little scrawny lately, Natbug.” Mom, the Queen of Tetris, began rearranging the contentsof Natalie’s fridge to create space for the platter. “Men prefer women who havea little something to grab.”
Natalie was biting back a laughing protest when someoneknocked at the front door. It opened, and Tyler filled the entire frame. Heheld a big box. “Brought back a little extra—” His eyes darted to Mom, and hismouth swung open. “Oh, sorry, I …”
Waving him in, Mom took in his entire form in one thoroughsweep. “Don’t mind me. I was just dropping off some goodies for Natalie. I’mMary, her mom. And you are?” She said it so sweetly no one could have taken itfor the mama bear question it truly was.
Tyler ducked his head. “Tyler. Johnson. Natalie’s, uh, dogclient. Nice to meet you, Mrs. …” Mom cocked an eyebrow, and Tyler changedcourse. “Uh, Mary.” He stood stock-still.
“Come in, Tyler. Please. I was just leaving,” she assuredhim.
He shuffled inside, looking utterly unnerved. Nataliereached for the box, but he stepped around her and deposited it on the kitchentable. His eyes bounced between her and her mom.
Natalie peered inside the box. “Did you buy out the wholeliquor store?”
“I just thought I’d replace the beer and … looks like you’relow on red wine and …”
“Aw, you didn’t have to, but thank you.” Suppressing asnicker, Natalie pointed to a ruffly magenta aprondraped over the back of a kitchen chair. “That’s yours.”
He hesitated, then surprised herwhen he slid off his jacket, picked up the apron, and pulled it over his head.Natalie burst out with the laugh she’d been holding back, and Mom joined in.Grinning, Tyler held up his arms. “What do you think?” He pivoted. “It’s mycolor, right?”
“It’s perfect!” Natalie chortled. “Except the ties aren’tlong enough.”
He looked down at himself and shrugged. Mom side-eyedNatalie with a look that said, “I like this one.” Natalie answered with aneye-roll.
Tyler offered Mom a drink as he poured Natalie one, but shedeclined and left—after telling him that “dinner wasin the fridge.”
He poured himself a hefty helping of Jameson. “Does your momalways do that?”
“What? Bring over dinner for a football team? Rarely. Notsure what possessed her, but it’s a good thing you’re here to help me eat it.” Lookat you, Nat, sliding that right in as smooth as silk, you sneaky bitch.
He let out a noisy sigh. “I think I love your mom.”
“Careful. She might adopt you.” She smirked at his getup.“You don’t have to wear the apron, Tyler.”
“What? No way. I’m in this to win this. So get busy and bossme around.”
“You know you look ridiculous, right?” And not like a porn star at all.
“Be nice. I’m getting my girlie side on.”
She let out a pfftand shoved a measuring cup at him. “Sugar. One cup.”
“Yes, your sassiness. Wait. Did you just call me ‘Sugar’?”
She pressed her lips together. Don’t laugh. Don’tencourage him. Even though that was exactly what she wanted to do. Instead,she said, “So what about your thing?”
He beamed her a devilish smile. “Canceled it.”
CHAPTER 18
Merging Traffic Ahead
Sucha bad idea. On so many levels.
T.J. had blown off his teammates—the firstdinner they’d invited him to—so he could stand beside Natalie in her kitchen,wearing a ridiculous pink apron, getting covered in flour under the pretext ofhelping her bake him a cake. Yeah, he hadn’t told Grimswhat he was really doing, though the guy had guessed. Sortof.
The text exchange had gone something like:
Sorry, Grims. Can’tmake it. Something came up.
Something like your dick?
LOL. Next time?
Next time.
T.J. just hoped there would be a nexttime.
Despite Tom Carlisle’s voice yapping in hishead, he hadn’t been able to resist the chance to spend Saturday night withNatalie. Especially after she’d given him a look like he was fucking Supermanwhen he’d fixed her lock. If he’d been smart, he’d have run like hell, but hewasn’t smart—unlike that mouth of hers. The mouth he was dying to sample.
Yeah, being here was a bad, bad idea.
He side-eyed her. “More Crown?”
“A short pour. Please.” Her focus was lasered on a bowl that held cinnamon-sugary goodness.Sticking out her little pink tongue, she sprinkled the stuff over a creamybatter—batter he kept dipping his finger in just to get a rise from her. So easy, so fun.
Don’t get carried away, Shanny,or she’ll hook you like the damn trout she caught this morning. Then she’llknow the reason you got a dog was to wag your wayinto her life.
So why was he here, exactly? Becauseshe was all sass and flashing brown eyes and questions firing at him.She kept him dancing on his tiptoes as though he were Mikhail FuckingBaryshnikov. The woman was fearless, fascinating, and terrifying all at thesame time. And he was eating it up.
He swallowed a smirk, thinking about how she’dblindsided him. Several times. A hedonism cruise? He’dheard about that stuff, but other than an occasional quick and dirty fantasy,he’d
