Page 24 of A Whole New Play

That is until a child’s screech pierces the peaceful atmosphere.

“Give me back my book, Andy!”

I look up and see an open window on the second floor. The curtain sways out with the breeze, and I hear a little boy shout in reply, “I told you, I don’t have your book!”

“You’re lying! Dad! Andy stole my science book!”

A smile plays on my lips as I listen to the sibling squabble. Some might find it annoying, but as someone who grew up an only child, it’s a novelty to me. For now, anyway. I might be singing a different tune after mediating their disagreements for a few weeks.

Talking like you’ve already got the job, huh, Val?

I shake my head and walk to the double front door. I lift my hand to knock, but the door on the right swings open before my knuckles touch wood.

It takes conscious effort not to let my jaw drop as I take in the sight of the tall, broad man before me.

I thought post-workout Carter was sexy. The way his veins and muscles stood out under his tan skin, glistening from sweat, had made my core clench with desire that I’d never experienced before our spontaneous night together at the resort. But that version of the devastatingly handsome man is nothing compared to the man standing in front of me wearing gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Black-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose.

“You wear glasses?” Are the first words out of my mouth. A man as sexy as Carter shouldn’t be allowed to flaunt the bookish, intellectual look. It’s my kryptonite.

His lips quirk with amusement. “Good morning to you, too. And yes… I wear glasses.”

“Sorry.” I release a tiny cough. “Good morning.”

“No worries. Come on in.” He steps back.

I walk inside and kick off my shoes, lining them up by the door where I see over six pairs of shoes, five of which were made to fit little feet.

Carter shuts the door behind me. “Did you find the house okay?”

“Yeah, the GPS directions were straightforward.” I follow him as he walks deeper into the house.

The entry hallway is long with a pair of French doors centered in the wall to my left. A peek through the glass reveals a home office. Or, rather, what’s supposed to be an office. The lone desk and chair in the room are accompanied by several cardboard boxes. Only one of them looks like it was opened.

Over his shoulder, Carter says, “That’s good. It’s a recent build so I wasn’t sure it would show up online so easily.”

“You built the house?”

“Yeah.”

Again, questions about his non-luxurious lifestyle choices flood my mind, but I remind myself it’s none of my business how he decides to spend or not spend his money.

Though, curiosity makes it impossible not to ask, “Why did you decide to live in Rose Hill?” Most Rough Riders live in one of the suburbs closer to the city, in more affluent neighborhoods.

“I grew up here, and my parents live five minutes away. Now that the twins are living with me, I thought it would be a good idea to be close to family.”

We arrive at an open-concept kitchen with a massive granite island separating it from the high-ceiling living room. The smell of cinnamon hits my nostrils. My eyes search for the source of the delicious aroma and find two slices of thick-cut bread on a skillet. Carter walks over and immediately flips the bread, revealing a lightly toasted surface.

I take in the bowl of beaten eggs, a carton of milk, and the cinnamon and sugar spread over the center island. “You’re making French toast?”

Carter’s back is to me as he pushes the bread to center it on the heat. “Yeah.”

“Impressive.” I nearly swoon as I take in the handsome man working in the kitchen wearing Clark Kent glasses. This is a fantasy I never knew I had.

“Thanks. It was my and my sister’s favorite growing up. Eventually, Mom got tired of making it all the time and insisted we learn how to make it ourselves.”

“Smart.” I watch him flip the bread and search for something to say to distract myself from admiring how attractive he is. “Do you only have one sibling?”

“Yeah, it’s just Carlee. Though, I grew up with Corey Johnson. He’s like a brother to me,” he mentions the star pitcher for the Texas Lonestars. I learned all about their friendship in my internet stalking last night. “What about you? Do you have any siblings?”

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