Right With Me - Stacey Lewis Page 0,23
his daughter than on me. “You should ask Evie, not me.” I give him a little smile to take the sting out of my words, but he’s completely oblivious.
“Oh, believe me, I’ll be hearing about her day all evening.” I was wrong to think he was concentrating more on his daughter, and that should irritate me to no end, but I’m enjoying the attention way too much. “Right now, I want to hear about yours.”
We stare at each other, him waiting to hear and me struggling not to engage with him until a horn honks a couple of cars back from his. A stormy look fills his face, but before he can unleash the temper I can tell he has, I take a step away, putting more distance between me and his truck. “Now’s not a good time.”
The look he gives me says this isn’t over, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. I can’t stand here in the car line and carry on a conversation with him, no matter how much I want to. Deliberately, I turn my attention to Evie who’s watching us in the back seat and give her a small wave and a smile. “See you tomorrow, Evie.”
Even though I know I shouldn’t, I look back at Mitchell and the smoldering look he’s giving me makes me shiver. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Mr. Anderson.” His eyes fill with an emotion I can’t decipher, but he nods slightly, accepting the loss of whatever game he’s trying to play with me.
“See you later, Hailey.”
Gah… I love the way he says my name.
After all the car riders from my class are gone, I head back into the building so I can get my stuff together and get home to see Connor. That’s the only thing I don’t like about going to work. I’m so used to being with Connor every day and loved being a stay-at-home mom when Seth and I were still married, but I also know I’m going to love teaching. Just today has shown me that. Plus, he’s loving what he calls “school” too, so I’m just going to count it all as a blessing. Things could be so much worse.
Picking Connor up doesn’t take long. He’s more than ready to go home after playing at daycare all day. The only fight we have when we walk into the apartment is what he’s going to eat for dinner. The only thing he ever wants is chicken nuggets and fries, while I’d like to eat something a little healthier. Unfortunately, we compromise—he has chicken nuggets…I put together a salad from the limited offerings in the fridge.
Once he’s bathed and in bed, I settle down on the couch with a very large glass of wine and the series I’m currently binge-watching. There’s a lot of angst, and some very sexy vampires and I’m really enjoying it. In fact, I’m so engrossed in what’s happening on the screen I let out a short scream when there’s a knock at my door.
Who on earth would be showing up here at almost ten at night? Walking warily over to the door, I sneak a look through the peephole and almost scream again.
Mitchell? What is he doing here? I step away from the door, debating on whether or not I should answer it, and he knocks a second time. If I don’t answer, he might start knocking louder and that could wake up my son.
I hurry to open the door and gasp when I see him. The peephole did not do him justice. He’s wearing a pair of gray sweatpants—help me Jesus—and a black Anderson Automotive t-shirt that is stretched taut across his broad shoulders and muscled chest. Even the sleeves are struggling to contain his biceps.
Crossing his arms over said chest, he looks down at me and I start to fidget when his eyes darken. I look down at myself too and wince when I remember what I’m wearing. My dress was cute, but Connor tends to be a messy eater and both of us end up wearing about as much as he gets in his mouth sometimes. I changed into a tank top and shorts when we got home, and that tank top is still damp from his bath. White tank top plus water equals almost see-through, even if there’s a built-in bra inside it.
My hair is also up in a messy bun now with pieces hanging down in my face and on my neck thanks to