“I’m sorry,” she says. “For being here when you got home. You didn’t know… I thought you did. That this was your idea.”
I wave her excuse away. “Coming home to three beautiful girls baking? I can think of worse things.”
She looks down, a blush on her cheeks. “All right. Good.”
Damn it, there I go again, saying things that I shouldn’t be. I’d completely lost my game and I’m too eager, somehow both at the same time.
“I’m curious, though,” I continue. “How did they rope you in? Bribes? Blackmail?”
Bella chuckles, reaching up to secure her ponytail. Long tendrils—are they called side bangs?—frame her face. “Nothing so malicious. Maria and Haven came over and asked if I was free to help. They said it was okay with you… I assumed you knew.”
“I get it,” I say, wondering why they’d done that—and why Maria had agreed to it. No doubt it was Haven’s idea. “You did nothing wrong. Neither did they, for that matter. You’re always welcome.”
“Thank you.”
“Not that I’m sure why you’d want to. They can be a handful.”
She smiles, and it’s soft again. “They’re brilliant kids. Very smart, too.”
Christ. It’s not enough that I want her with an almost physical ache—I really need to get laid, holy shit—but now she’s complimenting my children too. How had the Gardners kept her away all these years? How had I never met her before?
I would have remembered.
“They are.”
She bends to look at the brownies in the oven, revealing the soft nape of her neck. “A while longer, I think. And then they’ll make Daddy happy again?”
I give an exaggerated groan at that and she laughs, just as I’d hoped she would. “The things kids say,” I complain. “I have no idea where she got that from.”
“You don’t?”
Perhaps it’s the spark in her eyes—teasing and kind at the same time. But I answer her, regardless. “There’s a lot at work right now. There’s always a lot, but this week…”
“I’ve heard about your latest launch,” Bella says.
My eyebrows shoot high at that. “You have?”
“I study engineering with classmates who are just a tad obsessed with these sorts of things, so yes, I’ve heard about it.”
“Classmates, huh?”
She leans against the kitchen counter. “Yeah. We have an online group. There’s always a ton of discussion.”
Classmates her own age, which translates to guys her own age. I feel a million years old suddenly, with this giant house and kids and no time at all to give a girl like her what she deserves and expects. Dating and going out and having fun, flirty adventures together. Between my kids and my work, I’m already splitting myself in twos. I don’t have threes.
But there I go again. She’s taken.
“Sounds fun,” I say. “Planning on throwing massive student parties out here?”
She chuckles. “God, no.”
“Your aunt and uncle would likely have your head,” I say, thinking about the small label attached to the bottom of the basket she’d brought cookies in last weekend. It seemed a tad, well, neurotic.
“Oh, they would.” She runs a hand over her neck. “But about that, Ethan… it’s so stupid. But I need to say it. When we first met, I actually—”
“No need.” I don’t think I could bear to hear the words, the kind phrasing. Because that’s what’ll hurt the most—the kindness in her voice as she gently turns me down. “I know you have a boyfriend, and you don’t have to worry about any designs or expectations from me. I just want to be friends.” I hold up my hands to drive the point home, hoping she won’t elaborate.
Bella looks down. A fierce blush colors her cheeks, advancing down her neck. “All right.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve come off like I… well. I’m sorry,” I say.
She nods. “Okay. You haven’t, you know, but that’s good to know. And just for the record, I don’t actually have a boyfriend.”
Oh.
Fuck.
“That’s what I get for assuming, I guess. I saw a man leaving your house late the other night.”
She looks up, embarrassment clear in her eyes, and I want to sink through the floor. I’ve just done it again—put my foot in my mouth. I’m not just off my game, I’ve lost it completely.
“Never mind,” I add. “It’s not my business. I shouldn’t have assumed, or asked. You do you.”
“No, it’s okay,” she hurries, kind as always, trying to put me at ease when I’m the one who’s throwing around implications. “It was my brother.”
Ethan, you colossal idiot.
“Your brother?”
“Yes. He came over for dinner. It’s not…” She shakes her head,