Miss Fix-It

It was pretty inconvenient, actually, given that I was wearing a white shirt. I should have known better than to do that, because it was decidedly less white than it had been when I’d put it on.

Spaghetti sauce and bathtub water were not friends of white shirts.

Or my sanity.

So, here I sat, on the toilet—with the seat down—watching them as they splashed each other and caused the Great Flood of Monday. They didn’t care a bit, of course.

Me? Well, I kept creeping looks at my phone. The time? Was Brantley home yet? Would he retrieve his demons from me?

Time passed.

So did the twins’ ability to keep water in the tub.

Until, finally, through their shrieks of delight, a door sounded downstairs.

It opened.

It closed.

I stared at the wall.

“Daddyyyyy!” Ellie screamed.

“Daddy!” Eli followed suit with.

“Help,” I whispered.

They splashed each other extra loud.

“Oh, hell,” Brantley said, storming up the stairs.

Slowly, I turned my face to his. I was soaking wet, from my little socks to my hair and everything in between. “I made a bad choice.”

He rubbed his hand over his mouth. His eyes flitted across the bathroom, from the soaking twins to the dripping wall and the miniature swimming pool that was now forming on the bathroom floor.

Who was I kidding? It’d been forming for the past ten minutes.

Several emotions flitted across his face, but the one I wasn’t expecting was the one he hit me with.

Amusement.

Pure, raw, silent laughter.

“How’s that confidence working out for ya, sweetcheeks?” He grinned, leaning against the doorframe.

I glared at him.

“Daddy!” Ellie shouted. “Kawi gave us sketti and a baff, look!”

“I clean!” Eli shouted. “So shiny!”

“So wet,” Brantley said, pushing off the frame and shrugging off his suit jacket. He tugged at his tie. “You ready to get out now? Clean hair, clean tummies?”

They both looked at their stomachs. “Clean,” they said. “Clean hair,” Ellie added.

Brantley looked at me.

“Clean hair,” I echoed.

He laughed. “All right. Ellie, Eli, one, two, out.” He turned, opened a door, and brandished two towels from a cupboard. “Let’s get warm and dry and into bed.”

“But—” they both said.

“No.” Brantley wiggled a towel. “Out.”

Ellie was the first to get out. Her tiny body was tinted pink with the warmth of the water despite knowing it wasn’t too hot, and her hair hung down her back in stringy, lightly curled strands.

Brantley wrapped her in a towel, and I averted my eyes as Eli climbed out after his sister.

“Bedroom,” Brantley said. “Underwear and pajamas. Give me five seconds to change, okay?”

Both twins nodded. Ellie disappeared into what I knew would be the spare room, Eli into Brantley’s room.

Brantley left me alone in the bathroom. I pulled the plug in the bathroom and slowly made my way across the hall. I needed another shower, that much was for sure.

“Kali.”

I stopped at the top of the stairs and looked over my shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Here.” Brantley threw a light-gray t-shirt in my direction. “Don’t stay in a wet shirt.”

Um, that was his shirt.

“I can’t.” I held it out to him. “This is yours.”

He closed his hand over mine, eyes on mine, and said, “They’ll be in bed in fifteen minutes. You wanna wait fifteen minutes in a wet shirt?”

“No. I intended on leaving right now.”

“Don’t.” Deep, husky, raw. “Wait. Okay?”

I swallowed hard, looking down at the shirt in my hands.

“Kali?”

“Okay,” I replied, clutching it tight to me. “I’ll wait.”

“Eli!” Brantley ushered him out of his room. “Into your sister’s room. Let’s get changed real quick.” He winked at me and pointed to his room when Eli had left it.

I smiled. I was grateful for the offer, but it felt a little wrong to wear a shirt that clearly belonged to him. A lot wrong. He was my client, not my boyfriend.

Why was I agreeing to this?

Still, the sensation of wet fabric against my skin was gross, so I shut myself in his room and changed from my tank top into his looser t-shirt. It was huge on me, so I tied the side into a knot at my hip. It made me feel better, and also had me staring down at myself a little longer than a normal.

Soft gray, the shirt hugged my tits before loosening around my stomach and tightening at the self-crafted hip knot. The material met my shorts at the most flattering point, and I swallowed as I pushed my wet bangs away from my forehead.

Tonight had shown me exactly why I didn’t want children.

I opened the door and almost collided with Brantley in the hall. We both stilled, each of us half-gasping as we almost touched.

“I need to put Eli to bed,” he said softly.

“Right. Sure.” I slipped to the side. “Goodnight, Eli.”

He peered out from behind Brantley with a shy smile. “Night, Kali.”

I smiled a little wider and gripped the banister. His golden-brown hair was still damp, but Brantley ushered him into the room all the same. He wore nothing but fitted, navy pants and a white shirt. He’d unbuttoned the shirt and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows.