Page 33 of Married to the Frenemy

But she doesn’t give any of that stuff a second glance. Instead, all of her attention is focused on the exact bed I noticed described on Haley’s pad the night I went over to ask her to marry me — a loft bed with a slide and club house underneath.

“Is that really my bed?” Maggie asks, barely able to contain her excitement.

“It is.”

She whirls toward me and flings her arms around my waist, the sudden gesture taking me by surprise. I’m not used to this kind of attention from kids.

“Thank you, Mr. Beck.”

I gently pat her back, overwhelmed by how trusting this little girl is. How easily she hugs me.

After a few moments, she drops her arms and goes to her mom, giving her a tight squeeze. “Thank you, Mama. Can I slide?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Maggie darts toward the bed and tries to climb up the ladder.

“Careful,” I caution, my heart caught in my throat when she slips on the first step. It’s an odd reaction, considering she’s not even my kid. I still hate the idea of any harm coming to her, no matter how small.

“Why don’t you take off your shoes?” Haley suggests.

“Okay, Mama.”

Maggie sits on the floor and removes her black Mary Janes before yanking off her socks. This time, when she climbs up the step ladder, she doesn’t slip, successfully reaching the mattress. She scoots toward the head of the bed, then whooshes down the slide with a look of pure joy on her face.

“This. Is. Awesome!”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I don’t just like it. I love it. It’s the bestest bed ever made.” She shifts her bright eyes toward her mother. “Can I put on my pajamas and play in my new bed?”

“Sure.” Haley looks around, probably for the suitcase I grabbed from her place earlier this morning.

“It’s all unpacked,” I tell her. “Pajamas are in the top drawer.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll let you have some privacy.” I retreat, closing the door behind me before heading across the hall, whistling for Monte to follow. I don’t waste any time in toeing out of my shoes and shrugging off my jacket. After ridding myself of my shirt and pants, I find a pair of gray sweatpants in the drawer and tug them on. I open another drawer and start to rummage through it for a t-shirt just when I notice a motion out of the corner of my eye.

I look up as Haley comes to an abrupt stop just over the threshold, her gaze wide and mouth agape.

“Sorry. I didn’t know… The door was open and?—”

“It’s okay.” I grab a t-shirt and yank it on. It doesn’t escape my notice that Haley watches me with rapt attention, her skin flushing. Thanks to her light complexion, it’s even more noticeable when she’s embarrassed.

Or turned on.

Based on past experience, it’s most likely the latter.

Or maybe I want it to be the latter.

“I’m not used to having other people in the house.” I laugh slightly to cut through the tension. “I’ll try to remember to close the door from now on.”

“Probably a good idea.”

“I’ll let you get changed,” I offer, although it’s the last thing I want, considering how stunning she looks in that dress.

“Hey, Beckham?” Haley calls out just as I’m about to slip into the hallway.

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