At this point, I’m just playing with fire but the way his eyes flare and his Adam’s apple bobs makes me feel powerful. Plus, it’s fun. Harmless fun. And after everything Eli’s been through, he deserves some of that.
Our eyes stay locked together as he slowly leans in and takes a bite.
"Mmm…” he groans the second the fruity, creamy, decadent medley of bold flavors hits his tongue.
The look on his face, though. Instantly, I’m wet.
I try to move my hand away but seemingly on reflex, he grabs my wrist and takes another messy bite. “What the hell is this sorcery?” he asks, sounding mystified.
I giggle shakily. "It's strawberry cheesecake filling stuffed inside a birthday cake."
He barks out a laugh then muffles it with his fist. "Are you for real?" he asks in a low voice.
At his reaction, I giggle again. “Told you, you’ve been missing out.”
“Is this stuff even legal?”
His fingers are still clasped around my wrist. The contact of his skin with mine isn’t helping the situation in my panties. I get up and wander to the fridge. "Oh, stop being dramatic. You can just eat an apple or a carrot or a piece of broccoli after this. To cancel out all the bad stuff."
A chuckle comes from deep in his chest. “I don't think that's how it works."
I glance back and catch him checking me out as I lean into the fridge. "Water, beer or tropical sensation exotic fruit passion?" Fighting my blush, I stage-whisper over my shoulder.
"I'll take a beer,” he says. “I don't think I've had this much sugar since I was in middle school. I’m not sure how my body’ll react. And I’m not getting any younger.” He makes a big show of rotating his injured shoulder.
I go back and plop down next to him. I slide the beer his way and then stick a straw into my tropical exotic whatever. “Fine, Grandpa.” Then my attention moves to that strong, powerful body of his. “How is your shoulder, by the way?”
He gives me a smile. A smile so genuine I feel my chest contract. “My shoulder’s all better. Your hands are magic.” I swear, I don’t know how it happens but next thing you know, he’s cradling my hand in his and intertwining our fingers together.
Eli’s eyes snap up to mine, wide, wanting and a little bit afraid. My chest squeezes even tighter. Oh my god. What’s happening here?
He drops my hand. Scoots his stool an inch back. Erects a concrete wall between us.
We sit in silence, picking at the junk food spread out across the counter and I just want to get back to the place where the conversation was flowing easily. There’s so much on my mind, so much I want to say.
I hesitate. “You…you really were amazing with Callie today.”
He expels a deep sigh. “I know I should have said the standard bullshit to her.” He plunges his fingers into his hair and pulls. “I should have said, ‘your mom can’t be here with you right now and she wishes she could but she really does love you’. All that bullshit. But Callie deserves the truth. I don’t want her growing up, believing a lie.”
“You did the right thing. She’s a really smart kid. She wouldn’t fall for lies and dodging around the truth with her would only make it harder for her to trust you.”
He nods solemnly. “I just…I never know when I’m doing the right thing, saying the right thing. Sometimes I look at her and I wonder just how badly I’ve fucked her up so far.” He looks at me. “This parenthood thing is scary, man.”
I touch his arm and smile. “Well, good thing you’ve got a kick-ass nanny around, huh?”
“Yeah, for now.” There’s a bitter undertone to his voice. “So, did you hear back about your job interview yet?”
“No,” I admit. “When I do, you’re the first person I’ll tell. I wouldn’t want to just up and leave without giving you sufficient notice.” Callie needs me. He needs me. Even though he’d probably never want to admit it.
But my promise doesn’t seem to offer him much comfort. He still looks distressed. “So, you’re really gonna quit on me, huh?”
I swallow, fidgeting with the lollipop stick in my hand. “Eventually, yes.”
Guilt rushes in and I think it’s showing on my face because Eli gets an apologetic look in his eyes. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that. I made it sound like I don’t want good things to happen for you. I do. It’s just…”
“I get it. You don’t have to explain.”
I went to school for years. I studied hard for my degree. I’d like to get the chance to use it. I can be a good teacher, shape hundreds of young minds over the course of my career. Plus, I want employment benefits. Perks. Job security. How do you think I feel knowing that at any moment, my sexy, muscled-up employer could up and run off to become a world-famous underwear model? What kind of job security is that?
So why does the idea of walking out on Callie—and her father—seem to outweigh all that in my heart?
When I fall silent, Eli bumps his knee against the side of my thigh. “The mood is gettin’ kind of heavy in here. Tell me I haven’t fucked everything up.”
I smile. “You haven’t fucked everything up.” I break away from his intense gaze and focus on the junk food on the counter. “Next cake. Try this one." I quietly open another packet but this time, I hand it to him.
He brings it to his mouth and takes a bite. Flaky crumbs fall into his lap and an unexpected explosion of the dark chocolate filling bleeds out, smearing his lips and beard.
I snicker. "My gosh. You're no better than Callie." Without thinking, my fingers come up and trace across his mouth.
I pause.
That's when I
