I knock again.
“Hey, there.” Mia answers, wearing a red glove that takes hot things out of the oven, and apron over her little dress and high heels. “I was calling for you to come in.”
“I didn’t hear ya.” I stare at those shoes and follow her sculpted legs up to the hem of her short dress. Damn, that’s what I’m talking ‘bout. This girl could dress like this until the day I die and nothing would change because I’d already lived a life of heaven. I smile and check her out in that apron tied around her waist. The girl looks fine. Shit, she is sexy. “You got something cooking?” I stick my head through the door making sure I’m hearing a timer going off. The sound captures my attention. I’m glad for the interruption, or I might’ve reached out to run my hands up those fine ass legs.
“The quiche,” she shouts and tosses her arms in the air.
I step inside and follow her into the kitchen. She’s got real nice things hanging on the wall. It looks like somebody walked in and just took pictures for one of those home magazines because everything is so organized.
“I need to make sure Lucas has some protein in his system before he has all those carbs and sugars.” She bends over and reaches into the oven to grab a rectangle glass dish.
Damn, that ass is fine. I can’t take my eyes off it. “Where’s the little man?” I question her, but still don’t take my eyes off that tight bootie. Girl, you can get a man hot and bothered without even trying.
“He just got out of the shower. He should be ready any minute.” She stands straight and sets the glass dish on top of the stove. “Have a seat, and I… I’ll hurry and serve you a little breakfast before you go.”
I shake my head to get my mind back in the game of her cooking and don’t argue. The place smells like a nice restaurant with food cooking on the grill. “Is this alright if I take this spot?” I ask before I sit at the chair that already has a plate set out with a matching cup and silverware.
“Fine,” she says, cutting a square of egg looking stuff with a spatula.
“You got a real nice place here.” I unfold a cloth napkin and set it in my lap. “You make things look real nice.” I hold up the turquoise napkin showing my approval in her choice of colors.
“It’s not much. Rent’s really expensive anywhere in the city.” She puts her hand on her hip. “I’ll be glad to take Isabella’s place at work so I can take more appointments.”
I furrow my brows. “Who’s Isabella?”
“Oh, she’s my cousin that just got married.” Mia shakes her head. “She actually met a guy at work and it turned into a fairytale. Nikki tells me that never happens.” She laughs. “And I shouldn’t even think about it.”
“Well, don’t let some fool see you wearing that apron or you won’t last long,” I joke.
She flatters me with a half-smile. “Rich men don’t want single mothers.”
I roll my shoulders because this is getting a little awkward. She’s too easy to feel comfortable around. It’s kind of like being with one of the guys except for the hot, round bootie part.
Mia peeks her head into the hallway. “Lucas, come and eat before it gets cold,” she shouts. “I swear he’s as slow as cold molasses.”
“I’m not in a rush. I took the day off.” I take a bite of her eggs, and squint my eyes to make sure it’s really that good. “This is great.”
“Thank you.” She shovels another square on my plate.
I take another bite. “It don’t look like it’s supposed to taste that good, but it’s damn good.”
She shakes her head and chuckles.
“I didn’t mean that to sound rude.” I stare at her, hoping I didn’t offend her cooking.
“No, that’s how it’s supposed to be.” She nods. “I swear there’s a rule for rich people’s food—small ugly portions that surprise you because they taste so good you’re left wanting more. You don’t get that in Mexico. We like colors and spice. Everything is pretty and burns your taste buds off. At least where I’m from.”
I chuckle, finding relief in her dude style personality again. “You’re real easy.”
“Excuse me?” Her eyes bulge and she checks to see if Lucas is within hearing distance.
“Nah, I didn’t mean it like that.” I squint my eyes. “I just meant you’re comfortable to be around for a chick.”
“Oh, I get it.” She sets a square of eggs down on smaller plate that I imagine is for Lucas. “It’s probably because I grew up around men in my dad’s garage when we lived in Mexico.”
“You ain’t gonna eat?” I ask, noticing her plate is empty.
“No, I’m good.”
I pull my chin back. “You ain’t hungry?”
“It’s really stupid. I don’t even want to talk about it.”
“Sounds like it.”
“Okay. Fine. I’m not a girl that really watches her weight.” She places her hand over her chest. “Honestly, I’m not that girl, but since I’m taking Isabella’s spot at work my boss wants me to take some weight off my—” She lets the sentence drop.
“Off?” I lean back against the kitchen chair.
“She just wants me running a little more so I can get my backside trimmed down a little.”
“Ah, hell no.” I curl my lips in disgust. “That’s every man’s sweet spot. A full bootie is what we want.”
“Not all men are fond of so much junk in the trunk.” She frowns.
“Get over here.” I motion with my index finger and point to my lap. “Sit down. I ain’t playing. I’ll tell you the truth. Just come and sit on my lap.”
She playfully obliges and sidesaddles one of my thighs.
Shit. This girl’s tiny. I place my hands on her hips, and enjoy the tingles at my lower regions. “This right here ain’t big enough. Men want a woman with curves. We label chicks like you as scrawny.”
“Oh, you’re so kind. Where exactly did you learn your manners?” she asks, turning back to look at me. Her breath is as sweet as the tingles in my stomach.
“Here, take a bite.” I ignore her question and pick up some eggs with my fork to feed them to her. If I dare sneak a kiss in this kitchen, I ain’t gonna be the only one with egg breath.
She bites down and lowers her gaze to the plate. “I should’ve used more feta.”
“Nah, it’s good. It’s perfect.” I lean in so she knows I ain’t playing. I want to know if the chemistry is as real as I’m feeling. She shouldn’t have worn those damn high heels. That had me going from hello.
She doesn’t move as I reach up to run my fingers through her hair.
I wink.
Give her a minute to think about it.
She shimmies her shoulders.
Damn, she’s good at playing the bashful part.
I start to move in when her body tightens at the sound of little footsteps heading toward us. Lucas walks into the room and she jumps up like a cat about to drown in a bathtub.
“Hey, buddy.” She scoots out his chair. “You hungry?”
He shakes his head.
“Baby, you need to eat before you go,” she begs.
“No.” He purses his lips.
I watch him for a second, and try to get the blood to stop rushing through my body before I step in to help. “Yo, little man, let me tell you how it works in a man’s world. When you’re in a room with a lady, you’re supposed to pull her chair out. And you always eat her food even if you don’t like it. You see what I’m sayin’?” I narrow my eyes so he knows I’m the boss. “If a man doesn’t want to go hungry he doesn’t insult the lady that cooked his food.”
“I see how you are.” Mia puts her hands on her hips, making me jealous of every finger that gets to rest on such a beautiful spot. “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it. I have an entire fridge full of food. I can fix you an omelet.”
Lucas stabs a fork in his eggs and takes a bite.
“Nah, this is good.” I nudge the little guy. “Right?”
“Mmm. Hmm.” He
takes another bite.
She scrunches her forehead, but keeps eye contact. “How in the world?”
“Magic.” I wink, and finish the last bit of eggs on my plate. The energy she’s giving me is electric. I ain’t ever felt this with a woman before. Even the kid ups the stakes in our little game we got going on.
“Let me get you a coffee to go.” She turns back to a cupboard. I check out that bootie again as she pulls out a small looking creamer cup thing and sticks it in an espresso machine on the counter. Then she pulls open the fridge and grabs an apple juice box and hands it to Lucas. “I want you to call Mommy if anything goes wrong today.”
“He ain’t gotta call his ma. Nothing’s gonna go wrong.” I pretend to jab with Lucas, and then hold up my hands, blocking my face like he’s about to give me an upper cut to the jaw.
She looks back at me. “You’ve got to try this new blend of coffee my boss got me addicted to at work.”
“Nice,” I say as she hands a fancy to-go cup with a lid and a skinny straw. I’m a little disappointed she didn’t pause a little longer as she rubbed past me. “You really make things look professional,” I tell her so she can’t see the defeat on my face.
“I just like being at home. I’m one of those people that like to cook—and sew.” She wanders over and grabs a backpack from a basket tucked in the side of her computer desk. She puts it on the little man’s shoulders while he finishes his eggs. “You mind your manners.” She kisses his cheek.
“We got this,” I lean closer, breathing down her neck. “Don’t we, big guy.” My face can’t help but smile as her body shivers while Lucas bounces his head with excitement.
Her phone buzzes in my pocket.
I straighten up and reach in to grab it. “I forgot to give this back yesterday.”
She stares at the phone, but can’t hide that she’s catching her breath. “There it is.”
“I had my boy, Tech, go ahead and erase all the contacts. Everything except for the female names and the kid’s school.”
“Are you serious?” Her face droops. “My boss is going to kill me.”
“I’m playing with you.”
“That’s not funny. I’ll get fired if she knows you had my phone.” Mia picks up our dishes and sets them in the sink.
Who the hell needs over twenty-four-hundred contacts? And who the hell is this punk ass Chris guy? I decide not to ask her about everything that’s been on my mind since last night because I don’t want to sound needy for information. “You want me to bring him back?” I ask as we start to wander to the front door. I don’t need her thinking I’m the guy that’s constantly checking his girl’s phone.
She follows behind us and hands me one of those seats for Lucas to sit in. “You can just leave him there. I have a few lunch appointments so he’ll have to go to daycare after preschool is over.”
I flash her a smile. What’s this appointment shit all about? I step out the door with Lucas and wonder why this is bothering my ego so much. It’s gotta be the eggs. Or maybe it’s that tight ass bootie. I shake my head and wonder how I’m not going to think about the players she’s with all day.
“Wow! You got a cool car.” Lucas stands outside next to my Bentley. “I wish my mom had a car like this.”
“You like it?” I buckle him tight.
“My dad won’t buy my mom a car.” He stares out the window as I back up.
“Where’s your dad at?” I ask him, curious to see if he’ll tell me more about their life.
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
I roll my head. “That’s cool. I don’t know where my dad lives either.”
“Really?” He smiles, and I’m wondering if I’m doing something wrong by encouraging this type of talk. He’s so cute; he’s the kind of kid that can get a guy into trouble. He’s the type that wraps you around his finger and won’t let go.
I turn up the radio and avoid talking all the way to his school. When we get there, I can see a bunch of pretty-boy pansy ass geeks sitting on blankets with their kids, trying to have a picnic like some Target ad. Mia has Lucas dressed exactly like them. It ain’t nothing like my style. I should’ve said something when we were back at the house. The boy should be in something sporty. And I know just where she can get it.
Lucas stares at me when I open his door.
“You like wearing clothes like that?” I tug at his skinny jeans tucked at the ankle, and then unbuckle him from the back so he can jump out.
“No. But my mom won’t let me wear my transformer shirt to school.” His face pouts as I put his backpack on.
“How ‘bout we go get you some cool clothes real soon. I know a place that has some basketball shorts calling your name.” I grab his shoulder and start to wander over to the group of stylish fools that let their wives dress them.
“That’s the boy that hits me.” Lucas stops.
His dad is about the biggest jackass out of the bunch. I feel my neck tighten.
“The one with the blue hair.” Lucas stares at the kid like he’s already lost the battle.
“You know why he has blue hair?”
Lucas shakes his head.
“Because his Mama thinks that makes him look tough.” I bend down so he can look me in the eyes. “Kids like that suck their thumbs so their Mama’s have to make their hair blue. It’s so kids like you will be afraid of them.”
“Really?” Lucas is checking to see if the kid really sucks his thumb.
“I want you to show me where you hit him the second he threatens you.”
Lucas taps my nose.
“Good. Only you’re gonna have to hit him a lot harder than that.” I grab his shoulders so he can focus. “Hit me again.”
He slams a left hook with enough power that I’m sure he can drop the kid if he makes contact.
“That’s right.” I rub my nose to relieve the sting, and then I turn around and notice every guy at the picnic is staring at us. I hold my hands in the air. “The kid’s a leftie. Who knew?”
The dad to the blue hair boy pulls him closer and whispers in his ear.
That’s right, jackass, you go ahead and tell him to be afraid.
“Can we get you a donut?” a woman asks. She’s standing next to a rectangle table filled with donuts and juice.
“You go ahead, little man.” I stand behind him and flex my muscles just enough to intimidate every fool in the place that has a kid picking on the little guy. I know Mia wouldn’t approve of this approach, but she ain’t here. I figure she’d want me to introduce myself and smile and act as pansy ass as all of them. But today it’s a dog park, and I’m gonna lead the pack.
Lucas quickly finishes his donut and looks at me for approval to have another one. I nod, and he grabs a donut and rushes to the playground.
“I’m not sure we should encourage him to fight.” The woman behind the table is quickly turning into a snooty witch.
“Just trying to help you out,” I tell her, and take a donut.
“I don’t think you understand the type of educational establishment Lucas is enrolled in. I have a master’s degree in early childhood education.” She’s trying to slice her words through my skin with a dull knife.
“And I got a PHD on growing up on the streets.” I ain’t about to let her intimidate me. “Trust me when I’m telling you that you’re allowing some punk ass kid to run your playground.”
“Pardon me?” She nearly chokes.
“Just let me teach my kid to be your alpha.” I take a napkin to wipe my sticky fingers. “You can thank me later when everybody is respecting each other.”
Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t say a word.
I spin around to go check on Lucas. He’s playing with a group of boys at the playground. The blue hair kid brushes against him and knocks him to the ground. Get up, little man. Lucas sits there longer than I’d like. Little man, get the hell in that kids face. I can see he’s afraid. He looks back at me. I raise my brows, rolling my head in support.
<
br /> “Don’t touch me,” Lucas shouts as he gets to his feet.
“What are you going to do about it, cry baby?” Blue hair snaps back.
I’m almost shocked the kid is being that bold with me so close. I gotta give him props for such a tough act. What is this kid? Like five or six picking on a four-year-old? Lucas turns back for my approval. I nod. And that’s all it takes for him to ball his hand into a fist and crack the blue hair kid dead center on the bridge of the nose.
The snooty witch begins to run after them.
I hold out my arm to stop her. “Give it some time. Let ‘em work it out.”
The blue hair boy starts to cry. His dad looks at me, but neither of us moves. Only because it’s a written agreement between men that mothers don’t understand.
Lucas reaches down and holds his hand out to the kid with blue hair in what appears to be a peace treaty. “I don’t want you to push me.” He glances back at me, and I roll my head. “My dad doesn’t like it when you push me and he says I can push you back.”
That last part we never practiced. He added that in on his own. I feel my chest swelling with pride. Shit. This kid is getting to me. I can’t stand here another minute if I don’t want to attach myself to him.
“Hey, little man, I gotta head out.” I wave my hand to say goodbye and quickly turn back to his teacher. “I want to pay the kid’s tuition for the next few months. Do you got a number I can call and make a payment over the phone?” I check my wallet to make sure I don’t have cash.
“Of course.” She gives me the friendly smile she had on her face when I first walked up. “And thank you. I’m not familiar with this type of adolescent approach, but I can see it is working.”
“You ain’t gotta be watching babies if you’ll let the kid lead. He’ll respect being your alpha. He’s a natural if you’ll just trust him.” I turn around and head for the Bentley. I ain’t in the mood for Mia to be taking those appointments today. To hell if I’m letting another man sit next to her in that little dress.
The second I walk through the door, I spot the girl with red nails. I think her name’s Nikki. She smiles. I jut my chin so we’re both speaking the same language without speaking.
Pretty Woman: Mia (The Billionaire Bachelor Series Book 2) Page 3