“I find that surprising.”
“It’s true. We were at McDonald’s when they had their meltdown. I threatened to throw their Happy Meal toys in the garbage, they kept screaming, and I proved that I don’t make idle threats. To this day, they haven’t acted out in public again.”
The waitress burst out laughing. “Good for you.” With another smile, she glanced at Seth. “That’s one tough broad you’ve got there. And your kids are adorable.”
Seth felt all the color drain from his face.
“Oh,” Miranda said quickly, “They’re not—”
“They’re not my kids,” he blurted out.
An embarrassed look washed over their server’s face. “Oh gosh. I’m sorry. I just assumed…”
“They’re not my kids,” he repeated, his tone much sharper than he’d intended.
Next to him, he felt Miranda stiffen.
“My mistake. Sorry about that,” the waitress said before flouncing off, red-faced.
Silence descended over the booth.
Seth cleared his throat. “Miranda…”
“Wow. Twice.” Bitterness lined her tone. “Did you really need to deny it twice, Seth?”
Fucking hell. That second round of “they’re not my kids” had definitely been unnecessary. He’d just gotten caught off-guard. To be mistaken for a father…the twins’ father…a shiver of fear ran through him.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I was just trying to make it clear that—”
“Oh, you made things very clear.”
“I’m sorry for saying it twice, okay? I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Is it so awful that we were mistaken for a family?”
He faltered. “No. It’s just…”
“It’s just what?”
Shit, he needed a cigarette. And his head was killing him—why was this restaurant so fucking loud?
She shook her head, her hazel eyes flickering with…with an expression he couldn’t for the life of him make out. “This was a bad idea,” she said softly.
“Miranda…”
“You know I’m right. It was a bad idea. We’re not a family, Seth. You’re not my children’s father. You’re the man I’m—” her voice became a whisper, “—fucking.”
If he weren’t already battling confusion, unease and a strange jolt of terror, he would’ve been offended by the tiny twinge of scorn that accompanied that last word.
“So let’s not fool ourselves into thinking this is anything more than what it is,” she said with a weary sigh. “Let’s just stick to what we’re good at, Seth. Sex, and nothing more.”
Before he could respond, Jason and Sophie raced back to the booth, holding up the gumballs they’d gotten.
“Mom, look, I got a pink one!” Sophie gushed.
“And mine was blue.” Jason’s bottom lip dropped out. “I wanted red but blue’s okay, I guess.”
Neither child picked up on the tension between Seth and their mother.
But it was there.
Boy, was it ever.
Chapter Fourteen
One week later
“God. That was nice. I needed that.” With a contented sigh, Miranda slipped out of bed and stalked naked toward the chair on which she’d left her clothes.
Seth watched from the bed, struggling with a wave of disappointment. She was getting dressed? Already? Well, maybe it wasn’t that fast, he amended when he saw the time on the clock. They’d been in his bedroom for nearly an hour.
But still.
Christ, she was the most graceful woman he’d ever met. She even made the act of putting on a bra and panties look like a sensual dance. Another disappointed burst went off in his chest. He didn’t want her to go. He never wanted her to go.
He just didn’t fucking know how to ask her to stay.
If he hadn’t blown it that evening at the pizza place, things wouldn’t have had to change. They’d still be doing the whole morning-sex-and-breakfast thing instead of these super-hurried quickies. Still be lying tangled in each other’s arms after recovering from their orgasms instead of Miranda jumping out of bed to find her clothes.
Her eagerness to hurry off after he’d made her come brought a pang of unhappiness. He hated this new wham-bam-thank-you-Seth mentality of hers. He felt…used.
Aw, poor baby Seth bitching about how a woman wants no-strings sex from him.
“So this is really happening,” he said, feeling edgy as hell and unable to hide it.
Miranda pulled her tank top over her head. “What is?”
“You’re leaving.”
She shot him a duh look. “Yes, because I have to go to work.”
“Not for another hour.”
“I told you, I want to grab something to eat before I head over to the club.”
“And I offered to cook you dinner here.”
“And I said I appreciated that, but it’s not part of the deal.” She rolled her eyes. “Should we recap the conversation again, or is it going to stick this time?”