“Ooh, laundry.” Jenny grinned. “Always a good time.”
Casey agreed. Luckily she did think it was great fun to put the quarters in and watch the machine fill with soapy water. They often made up silly rhymes and songs. It was special time and she wouldn’t trade it for anything.
The late-afternoon sun was hidden behind a haze of clouds when they left the diner. If it wasn’t too late, maybe they’d go to the park.
She and Casey hit the grocery store, then the Laundromat. The haze turned to rain, so they made an impromptu run to the dollar store. By seven o’clock her feet were dragging.
Casey sat, writing numbers at the table, and Paige helped her count by fives while she put on a pot of water for pasta.
“Five, ten…and then what?”
“Fifteen,” Paige filled in. Counting by fives was a kindergarten skill. She wanted Casey to feel prepared in case that played a part in her reluctance. Reluctance was putting it mildly. She added some salt and turned the burner up to high while the fifty-cent face mask Casey had lovingly applied dried on her face.
“Twenty, twenty-five,” Casey continued.
Two solid knocks at the door made her jump.
“I’ll get it.” Casey started to get down from her seat, prepared to cartwheel to the door all by herself.
Paige held up a hand, intercepting her. “No way, missy. You know better than that. You never, ever answer the door without me.” Paige passed Casey and peeked between the blinds, hoping whoever it was couldn’t see her.
“Mommy, who is it? Do we know them?”
She snatched her hand back on a sharp inhale. Jake.
Chapter 12
“Mommy, who is it?”
The butterflies let loose in Paige’s stomach, and without answering her daughter, she fought with the crooked lock to open the door. She figured she stood there a full three seconds just staring at him through the screen. He waited patiently, his tall, dark, and delicious self, wearing jeans and a black polo-style shirt.
She hadn’t seen him in, oh…less than twenty-four hours. It seemed like longer.
“Hey,” she finally managed.
“Hey.”
“Jake!” Casey was at her side now, balancing on one leg against her. “We’re doing a spa.”
“I see that.” His eyes met hers, just as hot as they’d been last night and more than a little amused. “It looks…nice.”
Great. Paige smiled, or tried to, and felt the green mask covering her face crack around her mouth and eyes. His lips twitched, but he had the good grace to look away.
She stepped back to let him in and closed the door, fighting the lock again until he took over, applying some of his manly muscle.
“I brought those catalogs for Casey to look at. And dinner. It’s Italian.” He held up big brown bags in each hand.
Italian, as in the almost maybe date that didn’t happen? His expression was soft and a little unsure, and she felt a sudden urge to wrap her arms around him. She picked up Casey. “Thank you.”
“I…um…” He glanced down at the bags. “I didn’t know what you liked so I got a lot of different things…but maybe you already ate.”
“Are you kidding? I’d eat again for Italian.”
She hadn’t wanted to be interested in him past anything more than friends. She’d been determined to make Casey her focus. But now he was here and out of all the various emotions churning inside her, the one that was front and center was happiness. Despite her surprise, even despite her green face and her resistance to men in general, she looked at Jake and felt happy.
“You should stay.”
“We’re having special time,” Casey said. “And we’re going to paint nails! You can do it too!”
Her gaze fell to his huge hands that she now pictured catching touchdown passes and sliding up her rib cage. “Um…not your thing, I’m sure.” Because he was definitely all man.
“I don’t know.” He grinned at Casey. “I’ve never been to a spa.”
“It’s great! And don’t worry,” Casey said, giving Paige a quick glance. “I’m not done yet.”
Jake gave her a slow, appreciative smile. “I wasn’t worried.”
One heated glance from the man and she felt a distinct tingle in her breasts as the girls switched to full high beam. Great. There might not be a lot up top, but she wasn’t lacking in the nipple department. Her cheeks felt hot and she crossed her arms awkwardly over her thin pajama top.
“We’re having macaroni and cheese with hot dogs,” Casey told him. “We have that every night.”
“Not every night,” Paige muttered under her breath. But too often. She moved to the stove to turn off the boiling water, setting Casey in a kitchen chair on her way.
“But what Mommy really likes is pizza and orange juice.” Casey made a disgusted face.
“Really?” Jake sent her a curious look. “Pizza and orange juice, huh?”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Was he laughing? She tried to narrow her eyes at him. It was hard with her face cracking.