Page 52 of Just My Luck

This is going to be a very long night.

NINETEEN

ABEL

I stoodin the dimly lit kitchen, thankful that Ben had cried out when Tillie put him in a headlock. Sloane navigated the sibling quarrel with a firm but loving hand. She was a badass and certainly didn’t need my help. Still, I quietly operated in the background, cleaning up from dinner and tidying the rest of the house to keep myself busy.

I opted to stay behind when the kids begged to take their ice-cream sandwiches and go for a walk. I needed space to breathe. Space away from Sloane and how her mere presence was making me questioneverything.

I didn’t need her sunny smiles or passionate kisses or fiery looks from across a garden.

What I needed was her money.

A sick, oily feeling settled in my stomach.

Was I using her? Was I the same kind of man my father had become?

My track record was far from spotless, and I had made so many mistakes, but I couldn’t imagine ever hurting her.

I’d die first.

Sloane and I had set boundaries in place, but we were both all too eager to stomp all over them the second we had a momentalone. Thankfully, with two seven-year-olds, quiet moments alone were few and far between.

I made myself scarce the rest of the evening by watering the garden and tidying the mulch around the beds. When the soft glow from the bathroom illuminated the backyard, I safely retreated into the house, assuming Sloane was getting herself ready for bed.

From the hall closet, I pulled down the pillow and blanket I’d been using and tossed it on the couch. My back was already fucking killing me from the cramped sleeping quarters, but I had slept on worse.

The house was quiet when I removed my clothes, slipped into a pair of gray sweatpants, and stretched out on the couch. I stared at the ceiling and focused on my breathing.

In for four. Hold. Out for four.

My shoulders bunched tight as I shifted on the lumpy sofa. My feet dangled off the end as I tried to adjust and get comfortable. With my arms crossed, I stared at the ceiling.

I’d give my left nut for that fucking caveman bed right now.

Closing my eyes, I tried again.

In for four. Hold. Out for four.

A creak in a hallway floorboard snagged my attention. My eyes whipped open, but I stilled, listening to whoever might be coming down the hallway.

Soft footsteps padded down the hall toward the main living space. I strained to hear anything over my own heartbeat. In the darkness, I barely made out Sloane’s shape as she came into view.

Even in the darkness, I could see her skin illuminated by the moonlight that shone through the back windows. Dressed in only an oversize T-shirt, Sloane’s smooth legs were on full display. Her hair was up in a messy knot, and my eyes devouredthe smooth lines of her skin, from the top of her thighs to her bare feet.

She paused just after exiting the hallway. Her shoulders turned toward me. My eyes slammed shut and I leveled my breathing. I could hear her footsteps getting closer as I pretended to be asleep. Her soft breathing was just above me. For a moment I wasn’t sure if I should open my eyes or wait to see what she was up to.

Slowly, I felt the blanket tug up my chest as Sloane rearranged it on top of me. My feet popped out of the bottom, and Sloane’s soft chuckle was a lance to my ribs. With a gentle sigh, she let the blanket slip from her fingertips.

Before she could leave, I snagged her wrist.

Her soft gasp filled the living room as I gently thumbed the thin skin of her wrist.

My eyes moved to hers. “Thank you.”

She smiled down at me, not pulling away from my touch. Her voice was soft and low. “You look ridiculous on this couch, and that blanket isn’t big enough.”

I continued to stroke her arm. “I make do.” In the moonlight, Sloane was luminous. “Can’t sleep?”

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