I started to pull away and Mitch’s arm around my back tightened, his hand shifting up to between my shoulder blades, flattening and holding me close therefore I had no choice but to freeze.
“Um…” I mumbled.
Shit!
I decided to shift the subject and asked gently, “You sleep okay, sweetie?”
“Miss my teddy,” Billie replied.
Personally, I thought Detective Mitch Lawson was far superior to a tiny pink teddy bear but I wasn’t six years old.
“We’ll find him for you,” I promised.
Mitch moved and I watched him hook Billie under her armpit and slide her up his chest so she was face to face with him and, incidentally, me.
His arm wrapped around her back and he asked, “You eat oatmeal, gorgeous?”
Billie scrunched her face and answered, “Donuts.”
I watched up close as Mitch grinned into her face and that whoosh flowed through my belly. It was far more dangerous when I was lying in bed with him, pressed close to him (and Billie) at the same time witnessing him being so sweet to my cousin.
“Donuts are a Sunday breakfast when you got nothin’ to do but watch cartoons. Oatmeal is a before school breakfast when you gotta activate your brain,” Mitch explained.
Billie’s head tipped to the side and she smiled a mini-confused, wonky smile. “Oatmeal activakes my brain?” she asked and Mitch’s grin turned to a smile.
“Yep, it goes into your belly and gives your whole body energy, wakes it up, even your brain, so you can be super smart,” Mitch answered.
Billie lifted a hand and placed it on his neck, her eyes had grown wondrous. “Oo, I wanna be super smart so I can grow up and be a hairdresser!” she declared. I smiled, Mitch chuckled and both his arms got tight, the one around Billie and the one around me.
“Then how ‘bout, while Mara wakes your brother up, you help me make you and him some oatmeal?” Mitch suggested.
“’Kay,” Billie agreed.
Then, before I knew what was happening, Mitch’s hand between my shoulder blades pushed me in, his head came up, his lips brushed mine and I felt another belly whoosh as well as some tingles. Then Mitch let me go and curled up, taking Billie with him. Then they were out of bed, leaving me in it, luckily lying down so that I didn’t fall down because I was treated to a view of Mitch’s beautifully muscled back and equally beautiful ass in a pair of navy blue, drawstring pajama bottoms. I watched him move out of the bedroom, Billie’s arms and legs curled around him, her eyes on me over his shoulder and she was waving at me as if Mitch was taking her on a vacation and not into the kitchen.
I didn’t have time to marvel that only weeks ago Detective Mitch Lawson was my unobtainable dream man next door and last night I’d slept in his bed with him. I didn’t have time to commit what just happened that morning to my memory banks. And I didn’t have time to remind myself where I fit and where Mitch fit in Mara World.
I had kids to take care of.
I slid to Mitch’s side of the bed, got up and went to the second bedroom. I saw both the kids had their book bags in that room as well as a small pile of clothes and other necessities. I grabbed some clothes for him and Billie, took them to the hall bathroom then went back, woke Billy and guided my sleepy cousin to the bathroom.
I had exited the hall and was moving into Mitch’s living room-kitchen-dining area when I realized I was wearing nothing but my nightie at the same time I realized that LaTanya and Bray didn’t bring over my robe.
I was about to turn on my heel and escape back into the bedroom to find something to put on when Mitch turned from hitting the buttons on the microwave and his eyes caught me. Then they instantly dropped to my nightie. This meant I instantly felt heat hit my face. It also meant my body instantly froze. And I also instantly froze because I was staring at Mitch, bare-chested in his kitchen. Once the vision of Mitch penetrated, part of my body unfroze and that was my knees which wobbled.
Crap!
“Cranberry juice tastes funny,” Billie noted, oblivious to Mitch and I staring at each other like we were in trances. She had taken her glass from her lips, leaving a cranberry juice mustache and wrinkling her nose at Mitch. She was sitting on the counter next to the stove over which was the microwave.
Mitch tore his eyes from my nightie and turned to Billie. “Maybe, gorgeous, but it’s good for you.”
“Why does everything that’s good for you taste funny?” She tipped her head and went on, “Or just tastes bad?”
“It doesn’t,” Mitch answered.
“Broccoli tastes bad,” Billie parried.
“Broccoli tastes good,” Mitch returned and Billie wrinkled her nose again.