“I’m sorry—”
“Not your fault,” Connor interrupts holding a hand up.
“She was out of line and—”
“Let’s just drop it Demi,” he interrupts me again. He won’t make eye contact with me. Realizing that maybe he’s embarrassed, and I’m only making it worse, I push aside the urge to press on and make him hear my apology.
Instead, I try and change the subject hoping to smooth things over. “That’s nice of you to wash my car.” The three youngest Tuffman children are still busy with car washing and eating animal cookies.
“Thought I’d keep them busy,” Connor snorts. “Didn’t realize it would start World War III.”
He finally looks at me, his mouth quirking on one side, and I smile at his joke. “I don’t know how Wendy and Jeff do it.”
He sighs loudly. “Me either.”
“Demi!” J.J. yells and as I turn to acknowledge him, I’m blasted by cold water. J.J. hits me right in the chest with the jet stream setting on the nozzle, soaking me. Connor rushes and yanks the hose from J.J.’s grip, cutting it off, as J.J. giggles and points at me. As I shake my arms out, still shocked I got hosed down, Connor looks up at me and his brows rise.
“Demi,” J.J. laughs and points. “Why are your nipples all pointy like that?”
My jaw drops as I look down. White T-shirt and water; I’m pretty much topless right now, and my nipples are hard because I’m cold. My mind is moving in slow motion because I look up to Connor again, who’s still staring directly at my chest. His eyes meet mine and lock. His eyes are wide and it’s not hard to see his struggle: to look or not to look.
“Shit!” I mumble as I slap my hands over my breasts and rush into the house. Connor Stevens just saw my hard nipples. So did J.J. Oh my God. J.J. will be scarred for life. I’ll never be able to look at Connor again. I practically fly by Mark, who’s making sandwiches in the kitchen and rush back upstairs to the bathroom where my shower is still running. I’m red all over with embarrassment as I tear off my sopping wet pajamas and climb in. The water is freezing now, but I stand in there anyway, wondering if Connor can man the kids alone for the next twenty-four hours, so I never have to come out.
When I finally emerge, Connor and the kids are cleaning up lunch, minus McKenzie. She still refuses to leave the guest room. Grayson is sitting in his seat repeating “baby dinosaur” over and over again. My heart breaks a little. Something is not right, and I know it’s the last thing Wendy and Jeff will want to hear. But I have to say something. Grayson needs help, and the sooner they get it for him, the better.
“Thanks for handling lunch.” Grabbing the sponge from the back of the sink I start wiping the table down. It doesn’t look like it needs a wipe down, but I’m desperate for a reason to avoid eye contact with him.
“I just wiped it off Demi,” J.J. volunteers.
“Oh, well you did a great job,” I say. “Thought I saw a little spot. Guess my vision is getting bad in my old age.”
“I want to see Mr. Jenson. He said he’d give me candy,” Mary-Anne pipes up.
“Maybe later,” I tell her as I run a hand over her blonde hair. “But don’t go over there without me, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. Can we go outside and play?” Mary-Anne begs. “I brought sidewalk chalk to draw on your driveway Demi.”
“If Mark will go with you and keep an eye on the three of you, you can go out. And I want to see my entire driveway covered in art. If you do a good job, I’ll have a treat for you.”
“Yay!” The two barrel off to find Mark, arguing who will draw the most or best pictures, and Grayson, noting the commotion, climbs down off his chair and runs after them.
“How many hours until bedtime?” Connor chuckles as he does his signature head rub.