Page 112 of Daddy By Design

“Thought you weren’t looking,” I said over my shoulder.

“I lied. Goddamn, Hellcat. Your ass should be illegal.”

I buckled my bra and turned back to him, tugging up my shorts. It was weirdly intimate to actually put my clothes back on with him in the room, but it didn’t feel as strange as it should.

It felt like this could be any other morning.

A morning like couples experienced.

And that was a dangerous way of thinking. Especially when he was anything but a couple kind of guy. Why I kept forgetting that, I’d never know.

I slipped on my shirt and tried not to react to his gaze on me.

On every inch of me, no less.

After sitting up, he swung his legs off the side of the bed. “You took all the drawings down.”

“They’re not down. I just moved them to the studio.”

He reached over for the mug and finished it. “Got any more of this?”

“Kitchen. I brewed a pot.”He left the room, and I followed him down the hall. “What do you have going on today?”

“I have to go to a Sunday dinner at Mace’s tomorrow.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Hell. Am I supposed to bring food?” He refilled his mug and took another long sip as if it wasn’t piping hot. What the hell kind of asbestos tongue did he have?

Or maybe it was ruined from all those Red Hots.

“Did she tell you to bring food?”

“I didn’t even know I was being invited until she kicked me out the other day.” He took another gulp. “She had to go talk to Gideon. She’s pregnant.”

Surprise hit me first, followed by a pang. “More babies. My goodness, I figured they were done.”

Nolan just lifted his shoulder, but I could tell he wasn’t quite sure how to react.

I walked around the kitchen island. “Tell you what, I need to go to the grocery store too. We’ll find an easy salad to make.”

He frowned. “Make food?”

“Imagine that?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

I patted his chest. “Welcome to small town living, pal. Family dinners are a thing.”

He just drank his coffee.

I rolled my eyes. “Do you want to stop off at your place first?”

He glanced down at himself, then he shrugged. “I’ve been in worse states.”

“I have an extra toothbrush in the bathroom.”

“Why is that?”

“For sleepovers.” I patted his chest, but I didn’t elaborate. Let him stew on that.

We took his truck and came back to my place with far too many bags. Nolan in a supermarket was a scary endeavor. What was it like to not look at prices at all?

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