Take the Chance (Top Shelf Romance #9) - Brittainy Cherry Page 0,114

sweet with her,” Darlene said. “How long has it been just the two of you?”

“Ten months,” I said. My jaw stiffened. I never talked about Molly if I could help it. I had an irrational fear that even saying her name would call her back from wherever she was, to try to take Olivia away from me.

My shoulders hunched in anticipation of the next questions; more personal questions that I hated. But Darlene must’ve gotten the memo since she didn’t say anything else about it.

At the Victorian, I carried the stroller with Olivia in it up the three steps while Darlene unlocked the front door. In the foyer, she glanced at the flight of stairs leading up with a frown.

“Do you carry the baby and the stroller up a whole flight of stairs?” she asked.

“No, I take Olivia up, then come back for it.” I shot her a dry look. “Hence, the-not-buying-a crap-ton-of-stuff to carry.”

“Such a man.” Darlene sighed. “I’ll help. Stroller or baby?”

I hesitated. The stroller was heavier and bulkier but the alternative was Darlene carried Olivia. I scrubbed my chin.

Darlene gave me a tilted smile. “I won’t break her, I promise. Or I can take the stroller,” she added quickly. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Oh, now you’re concerned about what I’m comfortable with?” I asked with laugh. “That’s a first.”

She grinned and rolled her eyes. “Such a crank. Pick.”

“The stroller is heavy,” I said slowly. “If you don’t mind taking her?”

“Mind? Not in a million years.”

She knelt in front of Olivia and moved the tray aside, undid the mini-seatbelt.

“Hey, sweet pea. Can I hold you?” Olivia’s little face split open with a smile as Darlene lifted her up and cradled her easily on her hip. “Is that a yummy cracker? I bet it is. Can I have some?”

She pretended to bite at the biscuit and Olivia squealed with laughter.

The alarm bells were screaming now as I folded up the stroller and carried it up the stairs, Darlene following after. At my door, I fumbled for my key, acutely conscious of Darlene’s presence behind me, like a low heat against my back. A sliver of something electric slipped down my spine. I hadn’t brought a woman back here since I moved in.

Darlene isn’t a woman by your usual definition, she’s a neighbor. And you didn’t bring her back; she somehow finagled her way in.

My body didn’t give a damn how she got there, only that she was.

I opened the door and set the stroller against the wall just inside, then shut the door behind us. Us. Three of us.

Don’t get soft now. One dinner, strictly neighborly.

“She’s precious.” Darlene handed Olivia back to me, and then slipped out of her backpack to set it on the kitchen counter. “And this is a nice place. Much bigger than mine. Two bedroom?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve never seen a baby-proofed bachelor pad.” Darlene tilted her chin at the coffee table that had a protective slab of rubber on each corner. “Super cute.”

I started to tell her my place was the furthest from a bachelor pad as you could get, but my words died.

Darlene had taken off her ratty old sweater and tied it around her slender waist, then rummaged in my cupboards. She was wearing a black dancer’s top with straps that crisscrossed her back. I became mesmerized by her lean muscles that moved under her pale skin, the elegant line of her neck, and the sleek cut of her arms as she reached up on a high shelf for a pan.

I suddenly had the urge to see her dance. To see her move the way the lines of her body hinted she could.

And just like that, ten months of celibacy came crashing into me. The blood rushed to my groin, and going soft was suddenly the least of my worries. I coughed to conceal a sudden groan that nearly erupted out of me.

“You okay?” Darlene asked over her shoulder.

“Sure. Fine.”

This is a bad idea.

I started to put Olivia in her playpen but she fussed and squirmed out of my arms once she saw where she was headed. I set her on the floor instead, and watched her toddle straight to the kitchen, to Darlene.

“What are you doing down there?” Darlene cooed. “You want to come up here and help?” She scooped Olivia up and set her on her hip again, holding her one-armed. “Now, tell me, where does your daddy keep the baking pans?”

I watched a beautiful woman hold my daughter in my kitchen, talking easily