Page 32 of Fix Me Up

And of course, when he hears that, he has to take it.

A parent does not have the luxury of silencing their phone when they’re messing around in the kitchen with a hot date.

Carefully, I slide off his lap so he can stand and go to the counter, where his phone is perched upright in the charger. Geez, it’s like he already fits into my life.

But does he?

Feeling like the happy, dirty little hussy I am this morning, I shrug back into my robe and make myself a proper breakfast plate.

Gosh, I’m starving.

I nibble on eggs and bacon while Owen reads his text and follows up with a call to his mom.

“Hey, Mom… OK…yeah, no, I totally get it…how’d he sleep? …Oh shit, I’m sorry to hear that…yeah I’ll come right now…thanks so much.”

Guilt rushes through me. I set down a biscuit I’ve just taken a bite of, and secure the knot in my robe.

He hangs up and stuffs his phone in his back pocket. His face is a cloud of regret as he curses.

I turn toward him and cross my legs self-consciously as I nibble on strawberry, noticing the twinge and the tingle between my thighs.

“Sounds like they had a rough night,” I say, wincing.

He nods, and rubs a hand over his face.

I push a plate toward him. “Here, take some food home for later, and for your mom, and for Graham. This is too much for me to eat.”

He must sense a tone in me. “Daisy.”

“What?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t go all chirpy when you’re trying to put distance between us,” he says, closing in on me.

“But you have to go,” I point out. “Plus, the kid needs to eat. And so you do.”

And then, he’s right in front of me again, leaning in for a kiss.

He rests his head against my forehead. “Listen. I know things are complicated. But it’s not that complicated. You’re my girl. Do you understand that?”

I nod, even though I don’t see how it could work. With our schedules, and the way he seems so averse to using strangers to babysit, I just don’t see how our schedules will meet up regularly enough to maintain an exclusive relationship.

He needs to focus on himself and his little boy.

“OK,” I say anyway, nodding and giving him a smile.

Judging by his expression, I know he can see right through my brave smile.

“I gotta go relieve Mom and then I gotta take a crabby Graham to work.”

“Got it,” I say.

A firm hand brushes the hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear.

“But I’ll text you tonight. OK?”

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