“I didn’t have anything else to do while I was waiting for this soup to cook.” He shrugged. “Might as well clean.”
Izzy poked her head over the pot and inhaled the scents of bay and chicken. “You made soup?”
“I thought it would be good for Ana.”
“And you cleaned.” Vi wandered over to the stove and sniffed, and Izzy bent down to pet her. Her stomach fluttered. Something about this didn’t make sense. Brad didn’t owe her anything. And he had to know that no matter how good his soup tasted, that wasn’t enough to get her in his bed. So why did he put in the effort? She watched him, his T-shirt stretching over his muscular shoulders as he reached into the bag and started unloading her groceries onto the counter.
“Don’t be too impressed with the soup,” he warned. “I took some cans of chicken noodle from your pantry and added some fresh ingredients and more seasoning to it. It’s only semi-homemade.” He smiled, one edge of his lips kicking up higher than the other and making her ovaries weep. He waggled a loaf of French bread she’d bought. “This should go with it nicely if you didn’t have any other plans for it.”
“I was going to make spaghetti, but it will work just as well for soup.” Her feet were rooted to the floor as Brad moved around her, putting things away, stirring the pot and adding more spices. She couldn’t quite believe he was real.
It was a good thing he was lousy with money or she might be in trouble. She didn’t care so much if a guy didn’t have money when she met him, but he’d better have a plan to provide into his old age. She wasn’t going to be stuck taking care of another man who thought dreams came true through wishing instead of working.
Of course, now he was talking about making plans, at least for his shelter. He was starting to realize the importance of a steady income. Maybe she was in trouble. If he opened a CD, she didn’t know how she’d be able to resist him.
Ana shuffled into the kitchen, Jasmine trotting after her. She rubbed her eyes. “Is it dinnertime already?”
Izzy felt her daughter’s forehead with the back of her hand. It was cooler than when she’d gone to bed. “Pretty soon. Why don’t you go wash up?”
“’Kay.” Ana stumbled to the kitchen sink. “You’re eating with us, right, Brad?”
He glanced at Izzy. “I should probably go home before I overstay my welcome.”
“Don’t be silly.” Pulling down three plates and bowls, Izzy set the table for all of them. “Of course you’ll stay.” It wasn’t that she didn’t want him to go. He and his tight shirt and sexy smiles would have to go home at some point. Taking that jittering, twisting feeling in her stomach away with him. But he’d cooked the soup, and cleaned, and had earned a seat at her table.
He brought over the pot of soup and placed it on a hot pad on the table. She found a ladle and brought over the bread on a bamboo cutting board. They all sat around the table, Jasmine whining to get into Ana’s lap and Vi staring intently at their plates, waiting for her moment. Izzy looked from face to face and knew there was nowhere else she wanted to be at that moment.
“Hold up your bowls,” Brad said, dipping the ladle in the pot. He doled soup out to each of them, and Izzy cut off hunks of bread and buttered hers and Ana’s. She looked at Brad. “Please.” He held out his plate for the buttered bread.
They ate in contented silence, Ana’s sore throat keeping her quieter than normal. The atmosphere was warm, natural, and completely unnerving. She and Ana were their own family, a partnership of two. Vi and Jasmine had slipped rather seamlessly into their lives, but that was because they demanded nothing except food and love, and Vi, not even that last one.
Brad was a wild card. He fit in too easily, and that didn’t make sense. He wasn’t right for them, for her, but it was getting harder and harder to remember why.
She wiped the rim of her bowl with her bread, sopping up the soup. “This tastes delicious. Thanks, Brad.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He gave her that smile that came so easily to him, the one that made her think maybe life wasn’t as difficult and complicated as she made it out to be.
Ana slurped up a noodle, broth running down her chin, and Izzy wiped her face clean with her napkin. “After dinner, if you want to talk fund-raising ideas, I’ve come up with a list. A short list,” she warned him, “but some of the ideas have potential.”
“I’d love to.” He rested his elbows on the table and dropped his chin on his laced fingers. “Short term, I’m going to have to put the plumbing bill on my credit cards. My combined limits should just be enough. But I want to pay them off as quickly as possible.”
“Your credit cards!” Her hunk of French bread slipped from her fingers and landed in her soup with a splash. “Do you know how much interest credit card companies charge?”
“Which is why I want to pay them off as quickly as possible.”
“You can’t put that bill on your credit cards.” Over ten thousand dollars with almost 20 percent interest when that building was probably going to get knocked down in a couple of months? Brad wouldn’t be able to pay it back, not when he was looking for new accommodations and maintaining his ordinary expenses. His credit would be ruined. It would take him years to pull himself out of debt. And all for nothing.
She couldn’t let that happen. “You came here looking for advice, right?”
Brad rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, on how to raise money, yeah.”
“Listen to me on this.” Izzy leaned forward. “Putting yourself in a hole of debt isn’t the answer. It will only end up hurting you and the shelter in the long run. You can’t keep thinking in short-term fixes.”
“I hear you,” Brad said, raising his hands, “but I’m out of options here. I need running water into the exam room. I won’t do the copper pipes the plumber recommended, but I have to do the basic repiping or else this will keep happening again and again. The building’s getting old. And making the repairs is still worth it considering the deal I’m getting on rent. And I like Bob Burker, the owner.” He lifted one shoulder and dropped it. “I don’t mind helping out with maintenance.”
Izzy kept silent. She was lower than pond scum. Brad was willing to go into debt because he liked Bob, and Bob was happy to screw his tenants over. And she was helping him. The soup turned to acid in her stomach.
Ana dropped a bite of bread on the floor for Vi and looked up. “If you go bankrupt, what will happen to all your dogs?”
Izzy could have kissed her. “Yes, you have to think of your dogs. Promise me you’ll wait before you hire your plumber to make any repairs. I have some contacts. Maybe I can get you a better bid.”
“If you can find me a better deal, of course I’ll wait.” He ladled some more soup in Ana’s bowl and fixed a steady gaze on her daughter. “And I’ll never let anything bad happen to those dogs. That’s a promise.”
Vi jumped up while he was distracted and stole his slice of bread. “Dammit.” Izzy stood and pointed at the dog’s bowls. “Your food is there. And it’s expensive stuff. Stop stealing our food.”
Vi’s ears relaxed, and she panted, looking completely unrepentant. The dog walked up to Izzy, leaned into her leg for a moment, and then trotted back to her bed.
“Did you see that?” Izzy’s mouth fell open. “She came and leaned against me. That’s got to mean something, right?” She sank back onto her chair.
“She’s starting to trust you,” Brad said. “I knew it was only a matter of time.”
“You should let her eat at the table, Mom.” Ana shoved another bite of bread in her mouth. “Then she’d really like you.”
“I’m not going to bribe a dog to like me.” She leaned toward Brad. “Can I do that? Do you bribe your dogs?”
“I don’t have my own dogs. Corinne wouldn’t allow it.”
He dropped that name like it meant nothing. Izzy reared back. “You live with someone?
” A female someone? What the hell?
“Yeah, a distrustful, prickly female who has a hard time letting people get close.” Brad raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching. “I seem to surround myself with a lot of those.”
Glancing at Ana, Izzy felt her temperature rise. She bit her tongue. As soon as Ana was out of hearing distance, he’d see what a prickly female was all about. And he wouldn’t be laughing.
Brad covered her hand on the table with his. “Corinne is my cat. My place is too small for a dog to be happy there, so I adopted a tabby who seems happiest when I’m not at home to annoy her.”
Izzy sagged back in her chair. Her heartbeat slowed to its normal pace. “It wouldn’t matter to me if you were living with someone.” She didn’t even sound convincing to herself. She pushed her spoon around her bowl.
Scooting his chair close, Brad leaned in until his lips brushed her ear. A shiver skittered down her spine, and her nipples tingled. “Keep telling yourself that, Izzy.” Her name on his tongue was like a velvet caress. “Maybe you’ll be able to convince yourself it’s true.” His lips curved against her skin, and she bit back a whimper. “But I wouldn’t bet on it.”
With another glance at her daughter, Izzy slid her hand out from under Brad’s. Her skin immediately protested the lack of contact. Tucking her hands between her knees so she wouldn’t do something stupid with them, like link her fingers with Brad’s and give everyone at the table the wrong impression, she turned her attention on Ana.
“I know you’re not feeling well, baby, but I still want to get some reading time in.” Izzy ignored the droop in Ana’s shoulders. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed and I’ll be up soon.”
“Do I have to?” Ana whined.
Brad popped up. “I forgot. I’ll be right back.” He jogged from the kitchen and out the front door.
Izzy shared a look with Ana and shrugged. But the mystery didn’t last long. Brad hurried back, this time with a book in his hand. “I saw this at the bookstore and thought of you, Ana.”
“A book.” The politeness Izzy demanded from Ana warred with the disappointment on her face. To Izzy’s relief, manners won. “Thanks.”
“Not just a book.” Flipping it around so the cover faced Ana, Brad pushed it across the table. “Only the best book ever. Jack London’s The Call of the Wild. It’s a classic.”
That information didn’t impress Ana. “It’s pretty thick.” She flipped through it. “And there aren’t a lot of pictures.”
“There are a few.” Brad’s eyes crinkled, and he took the book back to show her a beautiful etching in silver ink of a group of dogs pulling a sled. “It’s about a dog that’s almost as cool as your two dogs.”
She looked marginally more interested.
“How about after you’re ready for bed, I come up and read a little bit to you, and we’ll see how you like it?” Brad looked at Izzy, and she nodded.
How could a woman say no to that? “Go brush your teeth,” she told Ana.
Scooping up Jasmine, Ana bounced from the room. “I’ll be ready in five,” she shouted over her shoulder to Brad.
He snorted and turned to Izzy. “Sometimes it’s crazy how much she sounds like you.”
Izzy stood and brought their bowls to the sink. “I never had her sass.”
“Sure you didn’t.” Brad brought over the soup pot and pulled a round plastic container down from her shelf. Like he was right at home in her space. He poured their leftovers in, sealed it up, and found a spot in the refrigerator.
Izzy gripped the sink, her head going light. In an alternate world, this was what it would be like. A family with a mom and a dad. It should have been strange and freaked her out, having Brad puttering around her kitchen as if he’d done it forever. Instead, it felt completely normal—and that freaked her out more. “Brad…”
He looked up from the table, pausing in the midst of brushing bread crumbs into his palm. “Yeah, babe?”
She opened her mouth, closed it, swallowed, and opened it again. “Uh…why don’t you head on up with the book? I’ll finish cleaning.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Circling the table, he dumped the crumbs in the sink and came to a stop in front of her. He rested his hand in the crook where her neck met her shoulder, his grip gentle but still managing to draw her a step closer. Lowering his head, he brushed his lips across hers, the pressure as light as a breeze. “I’ll see you upstairs in a bit, right?”
“Right,” she whispered.
He stepped back, gave her another one of his smiles, the sweet one this time, and strode from the room.
Izzy turned back to the sink, her fingers clenching the tile border.
How on earth was she supposed to resist that?
Chapter Thirteen
“Hurry, we’re going to be late.” Carrying a foil-wrapped tray of cupcakes in one hand, a portfolio in the other, Izzy pulled her front door shut with the tip of her shoe. Ana darted ahead to the unlocked SUV and clambered inside. Jasmine jumped from the seat onto her lap, and Vi stayed curled in the other seat in the back.
Gabe had wanted to see the dogs back at the shelter for a checkup, and Izzy had to find the time to take them today. She had client meetings at eleven and three, but she should be able to drop them off after she took Ana to school, then pick them up at lunch.
Opening the rear hatch door, she settled the cupcakes in beside her plastic crate of junk and bustled to the driver’s seat. “Okay.” She looked in the rearview mirror. “You all buckled in?”
“Yep.” Ana held the tips of both of Jasmine’s ears and held them out like wings. “Can I take Jasmine for show-and-tell?”
“We’ll have to ask your teacher.” Izzy pulled onto the street and headed toward the elementary school, her foot a little heavier on the gas pedal than it should have been. Ana hummed behind her. There was a slight crash, and a crumple. She looked in the rearview mirror. “Everything all right back there?”
“Yup.” Ana pulled a green ribbon through her puppy’s collar.
“Okay.” A horn tooted behind her, and Izzy pulled into the intersection, making a right toward Marion Johnson Elementary School. Putting her blinker on, she waited for her turn to pull up to the drop-off curb. “You have your lunch?”
“Yup.”
“Your homework?”
“Mo-oom.”
“Okay, okay, just checking.” Izzy pulled into place and cut the engine. “Let’s go.” Jumping out, she hit the hatch door release and hurried to the back of the car while it raised. Ducking under the door, Izzy stopped dead.
“No, no, no, no, no!” She stomped her foot. “Violet Lopez, you are in so much trouble.”
Ana joined her, Jasmine held in her arms like a furry clutch. “What…whoa. Did she eat all of them?”
Licking the bottom of the foil for any traces of icing, Vi gave her the side-eye, swiped the last bit of pink frosting off her lips, and jumped into the backseat.
Izzy assessed the carnage disbelievingly. Thirty-six cupcakes, all gone. Crumbs had been mashed into the carpeted floor, and she swiped angrily at them. How could a dog eat that much in one sitting? At least she’d decided against chocolate cupcakes and made fairy ones instead. But all that sugar still couldn’t be healthy.
“What are we going to do about the bake sale?” Ana asked.
“Don’t worry about it.” Closing the door, Izzy pulled the puppy from Ana’s arms and put her in the back with her mama. She took Ana’s hand and walked her to her classroom. “Have a good day, baby. Here’s some money to buy something for yourself at the bake sale, and I’ll see you after soccer practice.” She kissed the top of her head and strode to the foyer of the school where the bake sale was being set up.
She found her nemesis with a clipboard in her hand and a scowl on her face. Izzy blew out a breath and squared her shoulders. “Hi, Sandra. I need to—”
The president pointed at a table near the back door. “Your spot is down by the end. Go put your baked goods there and I’ll come over and talk with you in a moment.”
“But—”
“Betty!” Sandra turned on her heel and marched toward the front table where two large glass urns of strawberry lemonade sat. “I told you to stack the cups to the left of the urns so the kids get their cups, then fill their glasses, and move on down the line.”
Dismissed, Izzy slunk to her spot. A handwritten name card, bent in half so it stood up like a little tent, rested in front of her empty space. “Isabelle Lopez’s Tasty Cupcakes” was scrawled in silver calligraphy across the front.
Izzy pulled out her phone. If Betty got a talking-to for stacking paper cups wrong, she could only imagine what kind of tongue-lashing arriving empty-handed would entail. “Lydia, are you anywhere near a bakery?” she asked when her friend answered.
“Uh, does my kitchen with a half-eaten Sara Lee coffee cake count as a bakery?”
“You’re still at home?”
Lydia yawned through the phone. “Tannert’s doesn’t open for tastings until eleven. Why would I wake up at the ass-crack of dawn if I don’t have to?”
Izzy hunched her shoulders. “I’m sorry for waking you. Go back to bed.”
“Wait, what’s the baked goods emergency?”
Darting a glance down to the other end of the hall where Sandra stood, Izzy put her hand an inch in front of her mouth. “I was supposed to bring cupcakes for Ana’s bake sale today. Vi ate them all.”
“All?” Sheets rustled. “That dog is going to need some Imodium.”
“We’re going to the vet later today. But what am I going to do? These PTA broads already don’t like me.” She worried her bottom lip. “Ana’s going to be blackballed.”
“I’ll get you some, take them out of their box and make them look homemade.” She cleared the sleep from her throat. “Give me thirty.”
“No. I’m being silly.” Leaning back against the wall, Izzy swallowed past the lump in her throat. She was worse than silly; she was an idiot. Waking her friend up for something as petty as this. “If you were already up and near a bakery, that would be one thing. But I’m not going to have you rushing around just because I’m scared of the Mothers’ Mafia. It’ll be fine.”
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