“Hey, guys.”
“Shhhh,” Jack says, giving me a dirty look.
“Hi, Daddy.” Emma hops off her chair to give me a hug. “Can we pway outside now?”
“Not yet, pumpkin. Uncle Duke is bringing lunch, and then I have to finish up a few more things, and then we’ll play outside, okay?”
“Shhhh,” Jack hisses again. “I can’t hear the movie.”
Emma puts a finger over her puckered lips, silently telling me to be quiet, and smiles as she climbs back onto her chair. I hold my hands up and creep backward out of my office, shutting the door behind me at the same time the chime above the front door dings. Expecting to see Duke with our food, I turn and nearly trip over my own feet when I realize it’s Nora.
A pale yellow shirt hangs off one shoulder, revealing a sleek line of smooth skin, and accentuating the soft swells of her breasts. A small gold cross rests against her chest, and I swallow hard as I drag my eyes away from her cleavage.
Her hair hangs loose in a wild mess over her shoulders. From the looks of it, she either stuck her finger in an outlet, or drove around in a convertible with the top down—something most women wouldn’t dream of doing. She looks young and fresh and—Christ, this is ridiculous.
It doesn’t matter how hot she is. This is the girl who thinks I’m old and unattractive. I need to quit lusting after her like some horny old man—although at twenty-eight I’d hardly consider myself old.
Nora takes a hesitant step forward, her full lips curving up slightly. A mouth like hers should be illegal. I look away, willing the thought out of my head, but it doesn’t work. Instead, I picture those pink lips parted in ecstasy as she writhes beneath me, and—son of a bitch, what is wrong with me?
“What are you doing here?”
Her smile falters at my harsh tone, and I take a step toward her. She may be crowding my brain, but it’s not her fault, it’s mine, and I shouldn’t take my frustrations out on her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I’m just surprised to see you.”
“That’s okay.” This time Nora’s smile stretches across her face.
It’s beautiful. And rather than fight my reaction to it, I enjoy it, because it’s not every day a woman looks at me as though she’s genuinely glad to see me.
“Nick asked me to drop this off.” Nora offers me Emma’s doll.
I take it from her. “You didn’t have to come all the way out here just to drop this off.”
“I wanted to.”
“I appreciate it. Things have been crazy this week, and I haven’t had a chance to swing by Nick’s to pick it up.”
Okay, that’s not entirely true. I’ve had plenty of opportunities to grab it. I just didn’t want to chance seeing Nora again.
Lot of good that did me, because now she’s in my shop, filling my space with her soft, floral scent, and I’ll forever be stuck with the memory of her standing here, looking like an untouchable angel.
“I was also hoping to talk to you, if you have a minute.”
“Sure.” I set Emma’s doll down and lean a hip against the counter. “What’s up?”
“I’m sorry about the other night. When I was talking to Jessa—”
“You don’t have to apologize,” I say, ending this conversation before it starts. “I’m not worried about it, and you shouldn’t be either.”
“So you’re not mad at me?”
“Not even a little.” I just don’t want you here looking at me like everything you said the other night was a complete lie.
“Good, because what you overheard was—”
My cell rings, cutting her off, and I grab it from my pocket. I contemplate sending the call to voicemail, but it’s Angela, and I need to find out what’s going on with her husband. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to take this.”
“Go.” Nora cuts her hand through the air. “I’ll wait.”