She dropped her head to the table, sick to her stomach.
Now what?
And she’d thought things were a mess before she came over.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THREE HOURS.
JP had three whole hours to himself.
This was his life now. Stealing seconds or minutes of baby-free time to live his own life. Mickie had been more than happy to babysit, but when would that offer end? At what point would his siblings grow tired of him always begging for help and relying on them?
The craziest part of it all? Well, he felt weird as fuck being away from Kayla. How was that for a kick in the balls? When he was with her, he felt like a bird falling from its nest before its wings fully developed. Nervous, incompetent, overwhelmed by the task. Flapping around and occasionally catching some air but careening to the ground in the end. And now that she was safe and sound in Mickie’s capable arms, he had an uncontrollable urge to check in every few minutes.
Shit, for the past few days, all he’d wanted was some time to himself, and now that he had it, he was spending it obsessing about the baby. Shaking his head, he climbed out of the piece of shit car he’d owned for over fifteen years. At some point, he’d need to get something a little better suited for a car seat. Maybe something that had a safety rating. And that meant he needed steady money.
And a real job.
He tugged at the neck of his T-shirt as the fabric suddenly felt shrink-wrapped to his skin.
What the hell was happening to him?
As he walked up the short path to Hannah’s small, rented house, the front door opened, and the woman herself strolled out looking cute as fuck in a simple teal sundress. Her long hair had been pulled up in a high ponytail, giving him all sorts of naughty thoughts about wrapping his fist around it. She had her attention on her purse, but the second she looked up, her feet stopped moving.
“JP.” She looked around. “Are you here by yourself? Is everything okay?”
With what women told him was a charming smile—might as well get a leg up on the apologizing—he nodded. “Yes, to both. Kayla is spending time with her Aunt Mickie.”
Hannah broke out a brief smile before her eyebrows drew down. “Okay, so, uh, what are you doing here?”
He stepped closer until a waft of something sweet and citrusy nearly made him groan. It wasn’t enough she looked good enough to eat in a flowy sundress that showed off her shoulders and legs. She also had to smell like an orange creamsicle. His fucking favorite dessert. “I got your address from Mickie. I owe you an apology for my freak out the other day, and I was hoping to give it to you over ice cream. My treat. What do ya say?”
She stared at his car as she gnawed her lower lip then sighed. “I don’t know.”
He’d never admit it out loud because his siblings gave him enough shit about his “womanizing ways,” but women didn’t turn him down. It just didn’t happen. It’d been well over a decade since he made his intentions known and had a woman reject him. Jag constantly told him his good looks got him out of more trouble and into more beds than the rest of them combined. What could he say? He was a delightful fucker. Whether it was the tattoos, the way he didn’t take life too seriously, or his snarky wit, something was working for him.
Until now.
Sure, he’d fucked up the other day, but he’d seen the flare of heat and interest in her eyes before his meltdown. Hadn’t he? Surely one dickish act couldn’t have blown his chances out of the water.
Chances for what?
What the hell did he think he was going to do with this girl who gave off heart and home vibes for days?
For today, he’d settle for adult conversation. “Just ice cream and an apology,” he said as he lifted his hands in surrender. “That’s all.”
She didn’t budge.
“What if I promise not to be an asshole this time?”
A soft chuckle escaped her. “You weren’t an asshole.”
He cocked an eyebrow, making her laugh grow.
“Okay, maybe a little bit. But I never should have butted into your business, so the apology isn’t necessary. I should be the one apologizing to you for the inappropriate questions.”
So, they were doing this here. Damn. He’d been hoping to plow halfway through an Oreo sundae before diving into the tough shit.
“Hannah, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He stepped closer and took one of her hands between his. Her name felt good on his tongue. Sounded good to his ears too. It’d sound even better if he was shouting it while her mouth—
Not going there.
“Asking about Kayla’s mother is a normal question and one I’m going to have to come to terms with.” He sighed. Her neighbors were probably plastered to their windows, ready to feed the town gossip mongers. Sure enough, a curtain fluttered in the house next to her rental. “Look, were you on your way somewhere right now?”