against it this time.
It will probably help the fight if I stop thinking about how good looking he is.
“Have you bathed him?” I ask, turning. His gaze darts from somewhere south of my waist to my eyes. Was he looking at my ass? The part of me interested in him wants to smile, maybe shake my hips a bit to check.
Not smart, girl. Not smart.
I shush my inner and silent conscience. She makes too much sense. Sometimes she also sounds like my overprotective but loving father.
“Uh.” He scratches his fingers against the scruff of his jaw. “Hannah bought me a bathtub, I think it’s somewhere.”
“Scared to do it by yourself?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Very much so.”
“I can teach you. After dinner, maybe?”
“I will take you up on all of it, the dinner and bath and teaching me how to use that thing.” He points toward the carrier again and since Angelo is clean and currently happy it’s a good time.
“Let’s start with that.” I set Angelo in the swing and strap him in.
When I’m ready, Mikah already has it in his hands. His thick blond brows are pulled close together, lips in a pout. “It doesn’t look like it should be so difficult.”
I take it from him and finger the straps to first make sure they’re not twisted. I won’t fully know until it’s on him but everything looks good. The baby blue and white plaid on that thick strap that will go around his waist makes me smile. I peek up at him, stunned to find his eyes on me, intense and unwavering. Perhaps questioning what in the heck I’m doing.
“To be honest, I’ve never used one of these but we’re both smart enough to figure it out together, right?”
“Let’s hope so.” He cracks a small smile.
God. He’s so much more beautiful up close, it unsettles me.
“Think of it as a backward book bag. And slide your arms through this part.”
I hold it up to show him and he does what I’m suggesting, wiggling his broad shoulders through the small openings. It doesn’t take me long at all to figure out what is making it so difficult.
A laugh bubbles in my throat and comes out in a choking sound.
“What?” He twists, but my hands are on his shoulders. “What’s so funny?”
“Hold still.” I’m still laughing. The problem is he simply didn’t make the shoulder straps longer and he’s been trying to shove his arms through holes the size meant for arms the size of mine when his are four times larger. “Let me loosen these straps here.”
“I did that.”
“Not enough.” I snort. It can’t be helped. Does he not realize how big he is? And hard? And warm? Heat from him radiates through his shirt to my fingertips while I do my best to avoid touching him, but it can’t be helped.
My fingers sizzle with the energy he puts off and when the clasp on the strap sticks, I press my hand to his shoulder, curve around the breadth of him and freeze.
He smells so good. Fresh like soap and a hint of cologne, most likely his body wash. I barely come up to his shoulder and when he shifts a bit, the tips of his hair brush my fingers that are doing more than sizzling.
There’s a current coursing through me, straight from the apex of my thighs to my skin pressed to his.
“Are you okay?”
If by okay he means am I ready to jump him and climb him like a tree and slam my mouth to his then yup. Totally okay.
Another hard tug on the clasp loosens the strap that had bent but I’m able to quickly adjust his right side. I do the same to the other, this time careful not to touch him.
I might combust from heat and lust if I get my hands on him again.
“Here. Take this.” My voice sounds gritty and I clear my throat. I hold out another clasp that will wrap around his waist. “I think once you get the shoulders on, you tighten this one so this big strap on your lower back evens out the weight.”
“All right. So, I slide him in here.”
The actual fabric that will hold Angelo is clipped together and I can see why he’s confused.
“No.” I slide to his front and reach up. “There are clips at the top and bottom. Undo the top ones and the holder part will fall down. Then we can slide his legs in, lift everything and clip it back in