“Are you hungry?” Nick pokes Emma. “I think I feel an empty spot right here. And here. And—”
“Yes.” Her giggle steals my attention as she doubles over in his arms.
“Then let’s eat. Jessa got a cheese pizza just for you.”
“Cheese is da best.”
“My kind of girl.” Nora walks past Nick, tickling Emma on the way, and disappears into the kitchen.
“I wike her,” Emma says.
Nora’s scent lingers in the air. Spicy with a hint of sweet that leaves me wondering if she tastes as good as she smells.
Christ, I’m fucked.
My body hasn’t reacted to a woman in years. Of course it would react to her: young, beautiful, innocent, and way the hell out of my league. And now I have to sit through a dinner with my kids, my best friends, and America’s sweetheart while sporting a hard-on.
“You didn’t tell me your sister was coming to visit.”
“It was sort of last minute,” Nick says quietly. “She just got here yesterday.”
“She leaving soon?”
Nick looks at me funny. “No, she’ll be here all summer.”
I blow out a breath and turn toward the kitchen. “I might need another beer.”
“Yeah. Sure.” He looks in the direction his sister walked and then back to me. “You all right, man?”
“Great. I’m great.” And not at all attracted to your little sister. Because that would just be weird and awkward and
stupid.
So, so stupid, because what would a woman like her ever see in a guy like me?
Not to mention, she’s a freaking pop star. If that doesn’t have disaster and drama written all over it, I don’t know what does. And if there’s one thing I don’t need in my life, it’s drama. I’ve had enough of that to last me a lifetime.
6
Nora
“He’s single,” Jessa whispers as she reaches around me to put a dish in the sink. “I saw you trying to get a look at his left hand during dinner.”
Way to be discreet, Nora. Hopefully Mr. Sexy Single Dad didn’t notice.
“Oh, I wasn’t… I was just—” Okay, yes, I was totally checking him out. But how could I not? He’s sexy—clear blue eyes, twin dimples, and a smile I’m sure could land him any woman he wants.
My eyes drift into the living room and zone in on the man whose name I somehow still don’t know. He’s lying on the floor with his head propped on his hand, and his long, jean-clad legs stretched out while he plays with the two youngest kids. His ball cap—which barely contains his blond hair—is on backwards, and his black T-shirt stretches tight across his chest.
Emma jumps on him. I smile when he catches her, rolls to his back, and tosses her into the air. His arms are toned, more so than any guy I’ve ever dated, and it makes me wonder if he could pick me up as easily as he does his daughter.
Wait. What?
The thought is a little alarming. I don’t even know this guy, and here I am thinking of him picking me up. I shake my head and turn back to the sink.
“Don’t be embarrassed.” Jessa nudges me with her elbow and puts away the plate I hand her. “Grayson might look a little rugged, but he’s the sweetest guy.”
From where I’m sitting, rugged isn’t a bad thing. It sure as hell beats the metrosexual men I’m used to. There’s nothing worse than being with a guy who takes longer to get ready than I do.