A Moment of Weakness

by Brooklyn Skye

  “Actually, I was calling to give you a piece of my mind,” he said with a light tease in his voice. “But I suppose I’ll talk to Laurel too.” Having set hours for Laurel to watch Shae, Micah had realized during his last job of the day, wasn’t going to work because of Russo’s inconsistency and short demand for his presence. Micah didn’t like the idea of keeping someone in his home, but the more he thought about it, the more he knew it was the best option. In his home, Shae would be safe. And he’d be able to check up on her any time he had a free moment.

  April’s footsteps tapped along the wooden hall. He’d been to his sister’s room a few times while helping her move in. It was tiny, with only a pull-out bed and a small sink—the bathroom shared with other residents on her floor and therefore grungy as hell. He heard a door open and April mutter something to the side of the receiver, and then another voice came onto the phone.

  “If you’re calling about the background check, I won’t have it to you for a few days. I ordered it, though, if that counts.” At the sound of Laurel’s sugary sweet voice, the image of the blonde-haired beauty standing with her impeccably round tits staring at him through her drenched shirt flooded his brain. The perfect size for his hand, which meant it was more than convenient that Laurel was going to be watching Shae while he was gone. Being around her for only fifteen minutes today had already awakened his tamped-down libido. Prolonged exposure to her was sure to be damaging.

  “That’s fine,” he told her, running his finger down the condensation clinging to the neck of the beer bottle. “I was calling to discuss living arrangements during your time of employment with me.”

  Laurel coughed. Or choked. “Living arrangements?”

  “I’ve been to the house you and my sister rent from. And while it’s in a decent neighborhood, I can’t see how a room that small could possibly be big enough for a six-year-old to run around in.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m also not comfortable with her being around your roommates. I don’t know them.”

  The line fell silent. Then a chair or bed creaked with her movement. “I guess I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose I can watch her at your place.”

  Micah plopped down onto the couch and tipped his head back, closing his eyes from the hazy, yellowed ceiling light. “Which brings me to my next concern. Because of my involvement with the bar”—or Russo, but he wouldn’t ever tell her or his sister about that part of his life—“there will be times when I’m called in late at night or on emergencies and won’t be able to wait for you to get here by subway or taxi, so I’d like you to stay here for the summer.”

  His place? For the whole summer?

  Laurel glanced up to April. Did she have any idea that her brother was going to propose living with him?

  April tipped her head to the side, a strand of chin-length brown hair brushing along her red-stained lips. “What?” she mouthed.

  Pressing her hand to the receiver, Laurel whispered, “He wants me to move in with him!”

  April shrugged, not looking at all surprised at her brother’s request. Had they talked about this? Had her friend okayed it? “A little weird, I know,” she said, lowering to the edge of the bed. “Especially because eww, that’s my brother. But it makes the most sense.”

  Laurel lifted a “hold on” finger to April then raised the phone back to her mouth. “Um…Micah? Can you give me a second? Your sister is trying to tell me something.”

  “Take your time,” he responded, and Laurel couldn’t tell if his noncommittal tone was supposed to be sarcastic or not. A tiny reminder that moving in with a complete stranger was sure to be more than a little awkward.

  “How so?” she asked April.

  “Well…” She ran her fingers down the heavy crease in her black pants, ticking her reasons off one finger at a time along her thigh. “It’d be pointless to pay rent on a room you’re hardly going to be using. If you don’t have to commute back and forth, it’ll save you money on transportation. Plus, the more Shae’s around you the better. That kid is seriously lacking in the positive-influence department.”

  Give up her room? Entirely? “I don’t know,” she said quietly. She’d wanted a job for the summer, not a new home to go with it.

  “It’s not like he lives in a mansion or anything,” April added. “But it sure beats a room in a house full of people you don’t even know. Other than me.” She smiled brightly.

  A deep voice trickled into her ear. “Hello? You still there?”

  “Yeah,” she told Micah, taking a humungous breath. It was a job. And it was only for a few months. April was right, too; by moving in, Micah’s little girl—April’s niece—wouldn’t be spending her days in a dingy, dilapidated bar.

  Another deep breath, and she stared at her knees as she sealed her summer fate. “Okay. I’ll stay at your place.”

  Chapter Four

  The pad of Laurel’s finger hovered over the doorbell for another moment. What the heck was she doing? Sure, she needed a job, but giving up her rented room to move in with her best friend’s brother? The man whose intimidating presence scared the bejesus out of her?

  What if his little girl didn’t like her? Or worse, what if this very job proved she wasn’t fit to be a caretaker?

  No. She planted her feet in front of the door, locked her knees. Taking care of kids was her thing. She’d always been good at it. Besides, she thought to herself, April had said Micah wasn’t as scary as he looked. He’s just a little rough around the edges.

  But rough meant he could fire her, and then who knew how long it might take to find another room or apartment she’d be able to afford. With no job.

  Ugh, her mind had been whirling full speed since meeting with Micah at the bar yesterday. This whole situation exhausted her, and her appreciating the fact that she already had a secure job for the fall. I just need to make it a few more months…

  Laurel shook out her hand then pressed the button.

  The door opened faster than she was ready for, Micah filling the entire space wearing a tight T-shirt and jeans that led to his bare feet. Jesus, he looked more like an MMA fighter than a single father who’d hired her as his nanny. Two solid black bands tattooed around his forearm just below his elbow held her attention for a moment, then the words scripted beneath: DON’T TERRIFY THE ROUGH ONES.

  A warning to others, or a reminder to himself? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  “You actually showed up,” he said and swung the door wider. “Guess I owe April twenty bucks.”

  Is that what he thought of her, that she was one to not stick to her word? Or flake out? That sent a hot rush to her ears. So much for first impressions. She bit her tongue against the variety of comebacks she wanted to throw at him, forced a smile, and said, “I’ll make sure she buys me a coffee, then.”

  His eyes scanned over her shoulder to the street behind her for a beat, then he pointed to her suitcase. “Want to get that inside?”

  To where she was going to be living for the next few months? She tried not to think about the awkwardness of the situation and nodded. “Sure.”

  He moved into the living area and she followed, cumbersomely dragging her suitcase behind her. Three steps and she was in, almost halfway through the whole room.

  “A little small, sorry,” Micah said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Fine real estate is hard to come by in these areas.” It was a joke, based on the pursed-up grin he shot down at her. It didn’t make her toes tingle. No, that was just her nerves. Nerves that were suddenly zipping and zapping like a current of electricity through her body. Up, down, around… Oh, jeez. Not this again. “Anyway…” He ran his hand through his hair. “This is the living room.”

  She stole a quick glance: TV, small end table, purple couch— Wait. “You have a purple couch?” She almost laughed. “Really?”

  His face tightened, but though it was barely noticeable, something in his eyes changed. Relaxed. “It’s what I get for letting a six-year-old
choose the color. Shae wanted glittery pink pillows to go with it, but a guy’s gotta draw the line somewhere.” He winked at her, and the unexpected casualness of the gesture made the room tilt off kilter. “So we put them in her room and got black with flowers instead.”

  Purple couch, flowered pillows… The more Laurel glanced around the room, the more she realized he must have let Shaelynn help with the decorating. A framed picture of colorful butterflies hung beside the TV, and the beige window coverings were tied with ribbons that looked more like they belonged in a little girl’s pigtails. It wasn’t a bachelor pad at all, as she’d imagined while lying in bed last night.

  Laurel was still trying to soak in all the details of the room when Micah twisted and stepped into another room, extending his arms out to his sides. “The kitchen.”

  Another glimpse around the room revealed an L-shaped counter along the far wall adorned with only a microwave, coffee maker, and small two-burner portable stovetop. Between the lower cabinets, where it looked like there should’ve been an oven, sat a mini refrigerator, the glass doors showing off two shelves stocked full of beer.

  “No oven?” she asked, scanning the rest of the room. Full-size fridge against the stark-white apartment wall on the side, a circular table in the corner, and…that was about it.

  Micah shook his head, eyes on the mini fridge. “Oven broke a few months ago. Management wanted hundreds of dollars to replace it. But who uses an oven, anyway? This is much more useful.”

  Beer instead of home-cooked foods. Apparently his bachelor side was here in the kitchen. Following his gaze to where all the beer bottles sat—the fridge missing any sort of lock—she couldn’t resist. “You keep the knives out of reach, but your six-year-old has eye-level access to all that alcohol. Seems like your concern for safety is a bit skewed, don’t you think?”

  The air around her shifted as he turned to face her. She wanted to look. She didn’t want to look. Sheesh, had she ever met anyone whose size intimidated her so much?

  He planted his feet, leaning closer to her, towering over her. “Can’t say it affected me as a kid.” A pause, a blink of a second to let his don’t tell me how to raise my child tone settle beneath her skin. It did; the man was scary as hell this close, but she also caught a hint of a wobble in his words. Like maybe he didn’t fully believe them himself.

  Micah and April’s mother abandoned them when they were little; April had mentioned that when they’d first become friends. Laurel didn’t know anything about their father, but suddenly she wanted to. As if it might help her understand him better.

  She opened her mouth, but before she could get anything out, he said, “How about I show you where you’ll be sleeping,” and walked out of the kitchen, gesturing for her to follow.

  Silently, she trailed him, her suitcase bumping along the carpeted hallway. With each step, she catalogued what she knew of him so far.

  Right foot. Raising six-year-old alone.

  Left foot. Has taken some precautions in keeping Shaelynn safe, but might need some help with that.

  Right foot. His backside is really, really nice to look at.

  Left foot. I wonder if those muscles under his back pockets feel as hard as they look—

  “It’s only a two-bedroom apartment,” he said, suddenly coming to a stop. The movement was too fast, and by the time her brain caught up, she was already slamming into the back of him. Right against the butt she’d been staring at.

  Oh my god.

  He twirled fast and clamped his huge hand around the top of her arm to steady her, those brown eyes ticking from her eyes to her forehead to her ears, mouth, over her shoulder, then back to her eyes. The force of his stare triggered a nervous giggle from her lips.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, forcing her gaze to stay with his even though the intensity was making her a little dizzy. “I didn’t expect you to stop right there.”

  “We’re at the end of the hallway,” he said, unamused.

  Right. But… She pointed to where the carpet dead-ended. “I couldn’t see because of your…”

  Butt. Not a chance she’d admit that.

  Your entire ginormous body blocking my view. Yeah, not that either.

  “Because of…um, you,” she said, swallowing down what she hoped was all of her embarrassment.

  He stared at her. She pinched a polite smile. Then he swung open the door to a tiny room flooded with pink…everything. Curtains, rug, blankets on the twin-sized bed. From beneath the pink dust ruffle on the bed, a blonde head peeked out, big eyes skirting directly to Laurel.

  “Princess,” he said to the girl, “this is Laurel. She’s a friend of Aunt April’s and she’s going to be staying with us for the summer to help watch you.”

  The girl eyed Laurel for a minute, from her leather sandals all the way up to the plain white tee she’d thrown on this morning. Shaelynn propped a naked Barbie in front of her and pushed the doll’s arm up and down to wave at her. “Hi,” she said, scrunching her button nose into an adorable grin.

  “Hi,” Laurel answered back. “Did we interrupt Barbie getting dressed?”

  “No.” Shaelynn wiggled the doll. “This is Pickles, and she always walks around naked.” A quiet giggle echoed across the room. “Daddy says she’s crazy.”

  Micah chuckled, his grin still beaming. It was the first smile she’d seen from him, and the warmth of it—the love and adoration for his daughter in it—liquefied her completely. A big, scary man disarmed by a giggling six-year-old.

  Huh.

  “As I was saying,” he turned and said to Laurel, “it’s only a two-bedroom apartment, which means you can keep your things in here, but I’d like you to sleep on the couch.”

  Wait. What? “Sleep on the couch? You’re teasing, right?” she said, her voice wavering as she scanned the rest of the hall. Two doors. His room and likely a bathroom. The apartment was small—most in the city were, but even so… “I guess I assumed I’d be getting my own room. Or at the very least have a bed to sleep in?”

  “And I assumed,” he responded, his voice hinting at a lightness she didn’t know someone as sobering as him could have, “that if I told you your own room wasn’t an option, you wouldn’t agree to move in.” He took the handle to her suitcase and dragged it into the room. “The couch pulls out into a bed, but if you’re that opposed to it, you could always sleep in my room.” Something dark and almost desirous flickered in his deep brown eyes, and he clutched the handle, waiting. Ridiculous as it sounded to her, she couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

  Ten minutes. The tenacious—yet goddamn beautiful—blonde had been in his apartment for ten whole minutes and she was already cleaning.

  Micah peeked at Shae, sitting beside him on the couch. Shae stared back.

  “It’s not like our place is a pig sty or anything…,” he whispered. But the harrumphs and sighs coming from whichever room Laurel was in seemed to indicate otherwise.

  Shae shrugged and giggled. “She’s really pretty, like a mermaid. Only out of the water and without wearing seashells.”

  If mermaids have tight asses and curves that scream to have hands run over them then, yes, she’s just like one.

  Micah smiled at his daughter and tapped her nose. “Not as pretty as you, princess.”

  “You think she’ll clean the bathroom too? I made a big mess in there this morning with the toothpaste.”

  A bag of trash suddenly landed at his feet, and he tapped his daughter’s leg. “Answer your question?” He glanced up as Laurel tugged on her yellow, plastic gloves then brushed her messy hair off her face with her arm. A tight white shirt clung to her slim figure, giving him a front-seat view of her tiny waist and handful-size tits. Tits that would fit perfectly in his mou—

  “Can you take this to the Dumpster?”

  Micah pointed to her scrunched-up nose, the way two little wrinkles on her forehead mirrored the disgusted look. “Is it really that bad in here? I straightened up right before you showed
up.”

  She blinked down at him, her expression slackening. “Oh…um. I didn’t mean… I just thought I’d make myself useful.”

  Useful? He fought the urge to roll his eyes. What had his sister gotten him into?

  Afternoon turned into evening, and after a pizza delivery, an inch of water on the bathroom floor from Shae’s bath time “waterfall,” and a stack of bedtime stories, Micah was beat and finally ready for bed.

  “I’m going to turn in for the night,” he said to Laurel, setting a handful of blankets and a pillow on the couch beside her. He pointed to her book. “Feel free to watch TV if you get tired of reading. The place is small, but we’re used to the noise.”

  She’d changed into a tight gray tank and some cotton shorts, and Micah couldn’t help running his eyes over the milky smooth legs that were crisscrossed over his couch or the scooped neck of her shirt that hit at the perfect angle for him to steal a peek at what lay beneath.

  Regardless of the way she’d buzzed around his apartment today—scouring, wiping, polishing—he couldn’t deny that this woman’s body was absolutely stunning. One he wouldn’t mind spending a few hours with between the sheets.

  Carefully, Laurel dog eared the page and set the book on the side table. “Thanks, but I’m pretty tired too.” She stood and started sorting through the blankets. He reached past her to pull out the bed then unfolded a sheet and tucked in its edges.

  “I have a few rules for Shae,” he told her, positioning the pillow at the head of the bed. Laurel dropped the pile of blankets at the end of the mattress, her thin frame facing him. His hands itched to settle in the crook of her waist, just to see what it would feel like.

  She smiled up at him, her hair in a bunch to one side. “I figured you might.”

  Had he come across as that type? If he was honest with himself, he hoped like hell he had. Shae was all he had, and he wanted to make damn sure that when she wasn’t with him she was in the safest of hands. “I don’t expect you to stay locked up in the apartment, but I need you to keep the outings with her minimal and on this side of town only. The library, park, places like that.”