Page 17 of Take Me, Sir

Kyndall

I'd knownthat night with Dean would stick with me, but I hadn't realized just how much. After he'd basically fucked me into unconsciousness, we'd stayed in my bed for a bit, not talking, and not really cuddling, even though we'd been touching. Before either of us had fallen asleep, though, he'd asked to use my shower, and I'd known he was getting ready to leave. I hadn't asked him to stay even though the words had been on the tip of my tongue. I hadn't wanted him to think that I was asking for anything more than what we were already doing.

He'd been polite when he'd said goodnight, and there'd been none of the awkwardness I'd tried to avoid by leaving the first time. That'd just made me want him to stay even more.

I spent the first two days of the new week filling my apartment. I'd had enough furniture in Cambridge to fill my place there, but I hadn't sent for all of it, and there was a space difference, so I had some shopping to do. Furniture. Appliances. Electronics. A shit load of décor.

Since money wasn't an issue, I assumed it'd be simple enough to find what I needed, but as soon as I started looking, I realized that it wasn't about simply finding random pieces that I needed. I finally had a chance to make a home, to make choices based on what I wanted. I could've hired an interior decorator, and I knew a lot of people with the kind of money I had would've done just that. I decided that I'd rather have fun.

The last of my furniture had already been delivered, so I'd spent the earlier part of the day trying to decide what I wanted to do for the sadly bare walls. Finally, I'd settled on art. I didn't know many people in the city, but one of the things I'd learned from Juliette in the past couple days was that if I wanted to go somewhere, asking someone who drove for a living was probably a good idea.

So I'd called for a car and asked the driver to take me somewhere I could get good art that wasn't pretentious. A half hour later, I walked into a small gallery in Venice Beach. The owner asked a couple questions, then started to show me various pieces. To my surprise, he didn't talk down to me or act like I couldn't afford any of the things I was looking at. Which was probably why I ended up buying half a dozen pieces from him, a variety of artists who all complemented each other without being repetitive.

As I walked around the apartment, trying to find the best place to hang the first piece, I made a mental note to check my accounts. I needed to know where I stood now that I had most of the big purchases out of the way. All I needed now was a car, but I didn't go flashy with that sort of thing, so the cost wouldn’t be unreasonable. I didn't think I was anywhere near hurting, but it was always good to keep track of things so I didn't get too low to buy into a good game. I'd done that once before, forcing me to borrow from a less than scrupulous man. I paid him back after one game, but I'd had to essentially start over. It taught me that I never wanted to do that again. So now, I was extra careful.

I hung the abstract painting and then turned to get another. By the time the alarm on my phone went off, I had things right where I wanted them, for now anyway. I'd probably rearrange a dozen times before I finally fixed on what worked best. I was hoping to make LA my new home, so I wasn't going to settle for anything half-way. If I didn't like something, I'd change it until it was perfect.

But right now, I had more important things to do.

I smiled as I headed toward the door. I wasn't one of those women who were huge fans of little kids, but I'd fallen in love with Anthony the moment I'd seen him. When Juliette had called yesterday to ask if I'd babysit tonight for a few hours, I'd been thrilled to accept. I only hoped that meant Dalton was showing a little more faith in me than our parents did.

Taking care of Anthony would give me the chance to show my brother that he should believe me when I said I could do something, but that wasn't the main reason I was doing it. I hadn't gotten to know Lia's kids very well, and I wanted to be a good aunt. Anthony was my chance to do that without giving up my independence by moving closer to my parents.

I took the elevator up a floor and knocked on their door. Juliette answered, a harried expression on her face. “You're just in time.”

That sounded ominous.

When I walked inside, however, I couldn't help but laugh. Anthony was sitting in the middle of the floor, covered in something that was either baby powder or flour, maybe powdered sugar. Whatever it was, it was all over him, and all over the floor.

And he looked quite pleased with himself.

“I'm not even close to ready, Kyndall,” Juliette said as she gestured toward her son. “Would you mind...?”

“I've got him.” I chuckled as I headed for the little guy. “You go do what you have to do.”

“Thank you.” She breathed a sigh of relief.

I stood over Anthony as he looked up at me with those big, beautiful eyes of his. “You're quite the handful, aren't you?”

He laughed, clapping his hands together. I crouched in front of him and brushed some of the powder from his hair. I raised my hand and licked the tip of my finger. Powdered sugar. An empty plastic container sat beside him, and I had to admit that I was impressed with the fact that he'd managed to take off the lid.

“I was in the shower for ten minutes, and he managed to do this.”

I looked up as Dalton came into the living room, his hair still wet as he pulled on a shirt. His tone was half exasperation, half pride.

“I'll take care of it,” I said, straightening.

“Are you sure you aren't too tired from...work?”

I gave him a mild look. “I always have time for family.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that what kept you back East for the past six years?”

“No,” I shot back. “That would be earning a doctorate in mathematics from MIT.”

He shrugged it off with the same easygoing grin he always used. Dalton was a strong guy, but he'd always been laid-back. He had to be pushed hard to push back.

Case in point, rather than sticking with the issue, he changed the subject. “How are you settling in?”

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