by Misti Murphy
I move to untangle myself from James without waking him. What time were they coming to pick Abby up?
“What are you doing?” James asks, his arms holding me effortlessly.
I glance up to find him watching me with bright eyes. “How long have you been awake?”
“A while.”
I manage to get a hand to my face and push my bangs out of the way. “I kept you from being able to sleep, didn’t I?”
“Not at all. I’ve only been awake for about an hour. Didn’t want to wake you.” His chest rises and falls steadily underneath me, lulling me into imagining waking up with him every morning. I always wanted to experience what it would be like.
“Abby shouldn’t find us in this position.” I push away from him, and he reluctantly lets me go as I carefully get up. Grabbing my robe, I put it on and cinch the sash.
“She’s not awake.” He shuffles into an upright position and starts to struggle with his pants.
“She will be soon.” I take them from him, helping him get the material up his legs.
“But she isn’t yet.” He holds out his hand as I fold the blanket we shared. “Sit with me a minute.”
I drop down on the end of the couch, the blanket in my lap. We should probably talk, but the words just won’t come. Kissing him is easier. Falling into his lap and into his bed—okay, couch—is easier than telling him that I think I’m in love with him. Even when there’s nothing left to lose.
“Do you regret it?” I curl my fingers into the soft wool as I glance over at the man I respect most in the world. The same man who has confused and jumbled me. Spending the night together...it has to mean something.
“Last night?”
“Mmm.” I nod, fidgeting with the fringe on the blanket.
“I feel like I should be the one asking you that.”
I stare at him. Last night was almost perfect. The only thing that would make it better is if I were as brave about my emotions as I am about business. If I were open where it counted most. That’s something James and I have in common.
“I don’t regret it,” he says. “Just in case you were wondering.”
“You don’t?”
“No, I don’t. Now, are you going to come closer so I can kiss you good morning? Or should I risk injury to throw myself at you?”
Hearing him talk about kissing me with that same single-mindedness he chases big client accounts is weirdly sexy. And that he doesn’t regret last night is a positive sign. “I’m coming.”
“Good.” He palms my face when I scoot close enough, leans in until I can practically feel his mouth on mine before he nibbles at my lower lip.
“Uncle James, why are you kissing Myra?” Abby asks from somewhere close by.
“Shit.” James groans and when he settles back against the couch Abby is right in front of us. Simon stands beside her, swishing her tail in the air.
“Myra, why were you kissing Uncle James? Do you love each other? Are you going to have babies?” She claps her hands excitedly. “I love babies.”
“No. No babies,” James protests.
“Don’t you like babies, Uncle James? What if Myra wants babies?”
“Myra doesn’t.” He shifts uncomfortably.
Don’t I? Is that fear in James’s eyes?
“That’s right, isn’t it, Myra? You don’t want babies.”
Well, not now. Especially when James is reacting this way. “Can’t say I do right now.”
“See, Abby? We’re not going to have babies.”
“But Daddy says when people kiss that it means they love each other and that they want to make babies.”
“My damn brother,” James mutters under his breath so low it’s barely decipherable.
Wriggling forward, I take Abby’s hands to divert her attention. “Sometimes that’s exactly what it means, like with Erin and your daddy, or Paynt and Chloe.”
“And sometimes it’s just fun.”
“Not that fun.” Does he mean that about him and I? Is this just something to while away the time to him? I raise an eyebrow; he admitted that in front of his impressionable niece. Garrett will never let him babysit again. “More friendly, like a kiss hello, or good morning, like when Daddy kisses you before he goes to work.”
“Or like Uncle Danny sometimes kisses Daddy on the cheeks, and Daddy threatens to chase him out of the house and never let him visit again? They always laugh and laugh and laugh about it.”
“Okay, yeah.” I snicker. “It’s like that.”
“I think I get it.” She screws up her face. “So you and Uncle James don’t love each other and don’t want to get married and make babies?”
I glance at him. Would it scare him away if I told him that this is more than just a little fun for me?
“It’s not like that.” He forces a smile for her, the kind that skims his cheeks but never makes it to his eyes. “It’s more complicated.”
“Exactly,” I say. “We don’t love each other. Not like your daddy and Erin do.” No, it appears these feelings are all one-sided. “We care about each other though. Sort of like the way your daddy and Uncle James and Uncle Paynt and Aunt Ronnie care about each other.”
“Er…right,” James agrees.
“I’m hungry,” Abby says. “Are we still going to make Mickey Mouse pancakes?”
“Yes.” I climb off the couch, her hand still in mine. James’s answer doesn’t shock me; after all, it’s probably just desperation coupled with familiarity that landed us here, but it stings all the same. “Let’s go to the kitchen.”
“What about me?” James asks. “Are you just going to leave me here to fend for myself?”
“We probably shouldn’t, should we, Abby?”
“I’d really appreciate a hand to the bathroom.”
Abby’s eyes widen. “Sometimes when Ducky doesn’t make it outside, she makes a mess on the floor.”
“Right. Well, we better help your uncle then.” I let go of her hand to collect the chair and bring it to him.
He’s half out of his seat when I wind my arms around his waist to help him. Draping one arm around my shoulder, he purses his lips in thought. “Myra, perhaps after Abby goes home we should have a conversation that doesn’t include small people’s ears.”
I can hardly wait to hear all the reasons he doesn’t want to get serious with me. “Sure.”
The doorbell chimes and someone puts their fist to the door. James groans. “That’ll be Alex.”
“At least he’s punctual,” I say.
“Early,” James grumbles.
“Even better.”
“I’ll get it,” Abby calls out, taking off to answer the door.
“I better go with her.” I help him lower himself into the chair and then follow the rambunctious child to the door where Alex and a couple I have never met before stand.
“Uncle James was kissing Myra,” she blurts and three sets of eyebrows raise into almost identical amused expressions.
“Really?” Alex asks.
“Really,” Abby whispers, like she didn’t announce it loud enough for the man walking on the opposite side of the road to hear. Turning her attention to the couple with Alex, she asks, “Is this your mommy and daddy?”
“No.” He chuckles. “These are Simon’s owners.”
“Her name is Cleo,” the woman says, fidgeting. “We saw a post Alex put on Facebook about a kitty you found, and the photo is of our Cleo. We miss her terribly.”
“When did you do that?” I ask him.
“Before I left yesterday.” He practically bounces, reminding me of Tigger. That crazy, bouncing tiger is so energetic and eager.
“But Simon likes me, and she likes Uncle James. Simon doesn’t want to go.” Abby’s lip sticks out so far I want to warn her not to trip over it.
“Simon, huh?” The man, who appears to be in his late forties, asks as he bends lower to face Abby. “That’s a pretty creative name.”
“Would you like to come in?” I
ask them. “I can make coffee while Abby says good-bye to her new friend.”
“Okay,” the woman says, tucking strands of her straw-colored bob behind her ear. “Thank you.”
“Myra, I need your help,” James calls out.
“I’ve got it.” Alex springs past me and heads straight for James.
I fight the impulse to save James from the more energetic younger man. I’ve been his gatekeeper so long it’s ingrained, but I’m not going to be around much longer, and James needs to learn how to deal with that. “I’ll put the coffee on.”
“So you and James, huh? Is that why you’re quitting? And why he doesn’t like me?” Alex asks when he joins me in the kitchen ten minutes later. I’m organizing a tray to take into the living room where three adults and a cat are completely entertained by a pint-size girl who refuses to give up her new kitty friend.
“He does like you. He just doesn’t know it yet.” I nestle a stack of cups beside the carafe.
“Uh-huh.” He opens a bag of pastries and puts them on a plate, leaning in as though we’re co-conspirators with a plan. “He’d much prefer you weren’t going anywhere. And now I understand why. You’re the perfect woman. At his beck and call and in his bed.”
“There’s nothing going on between me and James,” I whisper. “He can’t even get up the stairs, so of course I’m in his bed. Where else would I sleep while I’m staying here?”
“You know where you want to spend your nights.” He nudges me in the ribs with his elbow. “On his—”
“Shhh.” Be friendly to the new guy for one flipping day and the next thing you know he thinks he’s privy to your personal life. “That’s completely improper.”
“What are you two doing in here?” James rolls into the kitchen. “Grinding coffee beans?”
“Wrong beans.” Alex smirks as he turns away from James.
If I’d had a mouthful of coffee at this point I would have sprayed the kitchen. The kid is completely inappropriate but entertaining. And there’s a chance he has a point too. Is having sex with James just another way I’m now on call?
“Can you do your job and look after our guests?” James addresses Alex. “After all, you did bring them here. Unannounced, I might add.”
“It’s under control, James,” I say. “I was about to take—”
“Alex?” James doesn’t bother to look at the kid as he rolls toward me.
“Going.” Alex scoops up the tray and marches out of the room.
“That kid is going to drive me into an early grave. I’m still not sure how I let you talk me into hiring him.”
“Give him time to settle in. You couldn’t stand Simon to start with either.”
“That’s different. The cat doesn’t keep sticking its nose in where it isn’t wanted.”
“Neither does Alex.” I walk over to help James turn about so we can go back into the living room. “He’s just a friendly guy whom your clients old and new will love. He’s going to be an asset, you’ll see.”
“The clients love you.” He reaches over his shoulder to squeeze my forearm. “You know them, you’ve been with them every step of the way. They won’t be happy with a substitute.”
“Of course they will.” Is he talking about Frost Inc.’s clients or himself? But needing me isn’t going to cut it anymore. I don’t want to be a commodity, I don’t want to be fun or just another person he cares about. I want to be the one he falls in love with.
“I still don’t understand why you’re going. Or what happened the other night to land me in this mess. We need to talk about that, don’t you think? And what’s happening now.”
“What is happening now?” I catch my breath while a swarm of bees take up nesting in my belly. Pretending not to care is not my forte. He said we were fun, but maybe...was that for Abby’s sake? If he wants to talk about it...
“I don’t know, Myra. This whole situation is new to me too. And a little bit weird, but—”
“Guess what, Daddy?” we hear from the living room. “I saw Uncle James kiss Myra on the lips. Myra said they don’t love each other, but kissing on the lips is for adults that love each other. That’s what you told me. Are Uncle James and Myra going to love each other even though they told me they don’t? Are they going to get married and have babies now? I want them to have babies and Uncle Paynt and Aunt Chloe to have babies. Can Spot have babies too?”
“You’ll have to ask your uncle Paynt about Spot, although I’m pretty sure if he had to choose, he’d rather work on giving Aunt Chloe a baby. As for your uncle James, well, I don’t know, pipsqueak. This one’s news to me too,” Garrett says, warmth and amusement coating each word.
“Shit,” James exclaims. “Cat’s out of the bag.”
Simon enters the kitchen at that point, her tail up in the air like an exclamation mark as she meows at James and then bounds into his lap.
I try not to laugh at the cat’s timing, or James’s irritation over Abby tattling on us while I push him back into the living room. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”
“Probably not,” he agrees. “Garrett will make sure of it. I just wish we’d had a chance to talk between ourselves before my entire family hears about it from that big mouth.”
“Don’t talk about your niece like that,” I scold him.
“I wasn’t. I was talking about my brother. But first, let’s go find out how much it’s going to cost me to acquire your damn cat.”
“My cat?” I smile. He might not want to admit it, but he’s fond of our new furry friend.
“Anything for you, Myra.”
Anything at all? I’ll take one order of you for the rest of my life. I pretend I don’t hear him as we enter the living room.
Chapter Fourteen
JAMES
“Cleo isn’t for sale,” the blonde woman says while darting a guilty look in Abby’s direction. “There are plenty of other cats up for adoption at the humane society. I’m sure your daughter, er…” Her head volleys back and forth between me and Garrett, who’s made himself comfortable on the recliner with Abby perched in his lap. The cat’s owners are sitting stiffly on the couch while Alex is busy playing maid and pouring cups of coffee all around.
“Cream? Sugar?” He gives my unexpected guests an imploring look. How can he act so calm when my life is crumbling around me?
First, Myra announces she’s leaving me, then she moves in with me and we end up striking up an affair. Now I’m pretty sure I’m at least half in love with her and, in a weird way, glad she resigned, except I have no idea how to tell her so. To top it off, she’s gone and hired this overzealous kid to take her place at the company. Who manages to dig up Simon’s owners, and damned if I want to give up the cat either.
How do I convince Myra to stay but not with Frost Inc.? Usually, I’m pretty astute when it comes to work relationships, yet I was blindsided when she tendered her resignation, although that might have been due to whatever happened before I tripped over the goat at Paynt’s wedding. And I already know I’m lousy at personal relationships, so this thing between us is probably doomed before it even gets started.
If I’m not careful, I’m going to be left with nothing but Alex, God help me.
“Cream, thank you,” the neighbor, who apparently lives three blocks east and another south, says.
“Everyone has a price,” I say, glancing at Myra. “What’s yours?” Now that we’ve slept together and my heart’s on the line, I’ve got to figure it out.
Myra drops her gaze to the cat. Or maybe she’s looking at my lap. Is she trying to tell me sex is her price? Hell, I can certainly arrange that. It’s no hardship. Well, actually, it’s most definitely a hardship. And it’s getting harder even as we play avoid-my-gaze while all these people sit around us.
“I told you, I’m not selling my cat.”
“Fine, take her,” I say, glancing down at the feline who’s glaring at me like I’ve insulted her. “What? They’re your owners.” She swishes her ta
il and extends her claws. I yelp as they dig into my thighs through my pajama pants.
The blonde woman stands and plucks the cat from my lap. I quickly—and hopefully casually—cover my bulge with my hands.
“Thank you,” she says, burying her face in Simon’s fur. I swear the cat is still giving me the stink eye.
“Uncle James,” Abby says, stomping her foot and crossing her arms. “How can you just give her up?”
I flap my good hand at the neighbor. “She isn’t mine,” I protest.
“She could be,” Abby states, and Myra arches her brow like she’s waiting for me to say something, only I have no earthly idea what she expects.
“Thank you for taking care of her for the last few days. Now, if you’ll excuse us.” Thrusting her nose in the air, Simon’s owner marches toward the front door, her husband rushing after her, throwing a longing look at the coffee cup Alex is holding out as if he expects the man to come back and take it.
After the door slams shut, Garrett says, “You’re an idiot.”
Who? What?
He shakes his head and addresses Abby. “You ready to go home?”
Her bottom lip quivers and she wraps her arms around herself. “Simon should stay with Uncle James. He needs her.”
“That’s not who he needs,” Garrett says. He stands and tosses her over his shoulder, tickling the back of her knee until she giggles. “Come on, let’s go over to Uncle Paynt’s to visit Spot. Something tells me that’s the perfect distraction.”
“Can we walk through that house again, too?”
Garrett shoots me a glance and I’m instantly suspicious. “What house?” I ask.
“Next to Uncle Paynt,” Abby quips.
“Chloe’s house?” Is Garrett thinking about moving into our brother’s neighborhood?
He grimaces and nods. “It’s a pain in the ass keeping a duck in an apartment in a high- rise building. And the house is on a lake, which is perfect for the duck. And weirdly, the duck and goat are BFFs. And why does it sound like we’re making this decision based on a duck?”