Page 11 of Fifty-Fifty

His gaze holds a silent challenge, but I’m not sure what he’s tryin’ to tell me with those big brown eyes.

“So, what do you say?” he continues.

“‘Bout what?”

Those same brown eyes shine with amusement as he leans his elbows on the table and he says, “About me staying at the inn. Do you have any rooms available?”

I don’t tell him that we don’t have any tenants comin’ ‘til tomorrow, and that we ain’t been fully booked for months. Instead, I shrug one shoulder and lift the mug to my lips before takin’ a sip of my lukewarm coffee. All the while, my gaze stays glued to his as I think over my answer.

“So... ?”

“Why do ya want one?”

He sighs, losin’ a tad of his earlier bravado. “I think you and I got off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry. I’m not normally such an ass.”

My gaze narrows as I assess him. “You mean by accusin’ me of bein’ a man and cheatin’ you?”

He laughs under his breath before squeezin’ the back of his neck and lookin’ over at me like I’m a puzzle he can’t quite figure out.

“Yeah. That. Think you can forgive me? Let us start over?”

I mull it over for a few long seconds when I finally decide that for a girl who hasn’t been given many second chances, it’s only fair that I throw one his way. “Okay. I think I can find ya a room.”

He lifts his chin in silent acknowledgment when Mac interrupts us, “Picture, Mommy!”

She points to the swirlin’ ink on Noah’s forearms with rapt attention, and I barely restrain myself from coverin’ her mouth before she embarasses me any further.

“Shh, Mac. It ain’t polite to point at people,” I murmur, my cheeks heatin’.

Noah chuckles before slidin’ his arms across the table to give Mac, and me, a better look.

“No big deal. Why get tattoos where people can see them if you don’t want to show them off, right?”

His comment puts me at ease, and I take advantage of the opportunity to examine the swirlin’ ink more closely.

There are so many different designs woven together that I feel like I could get lost in them forever. Mac grabs his arm and leans closer until her nose is barely an inch away from his warm skin.

“What that?” she asks, pointin’ to a tattoo that looks like a dead tree with a single leaf hangin’ on for dear life.

“That’s a tree, sweet pea,” I answer.

She furrows her brows before draggin’ her finger along the skin, and I have no doubt she’s tryin’ to see if it’ll rub off. Noah must be thinkin’ the same thing because he laughs lightly then proceeds to lick his forefinger. He wipes it along the branch with the hangin’ leaf to show her that it ain’t comin’ off. Mac’s jaw drops in shock.

She shoves the crayons at Noah with wide eyes then climbs on the table and puts her arm in front of his face. “Mac turn. Mac turn,” she begs, wigglin’ from side to side in excitement like she can barely contain herself. Mac starts pullin’ on her sleeve, tryin’ to expose her soft skin for Noah to tattoo. “Color. Here.”

Once Noah figures out what she’s tryin’ to tell him, he bursts out laughin’, nearly shakin’ the roof with his roar. As he throws his head back, I can’t help but notice his chiseled jaw and corded neck. I never thought a neck could be attractive, but apparently it can.

In another life, I’d have the guts to lean over and nibble on his tan, exposed skin.

Which is ridiculous. What the hell am I thinkin’?

“She’s hilarious,” Noah rumbles through bouts of laughter before turnin’ his attention to my baby girl. “I’m Noah. Is your name Mac?”

Mac nods enthusiastically, and the curls on her head bounce right along with her. She offers her arm again while givin’ him her puppy dog eyes that are sure to be followed by some over-the-top beggin’ that could melt even the coldest of hearts. “Color. Please.”

Noah shakes his head while grinnin’ from ear to ear. “I don’t think your mom would like that too much. Come see me in twenty years, okay?”

Mac scoots closer until she’s almost in his lap before beggin, “Please?” She sticks out her lower lip to emphasize her point, when Noah turns to me for help.

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