Page 31 of Muddy Messy Love

His giggle fills the air as he grabs the piece from my hand and puts it in the correct place. “There you go, silly.”

“Well, aren’t you clever?” I ruffle his hair, and pride beams from his cherubic face, squeezing my heart and shooting warmth through my chest.

If I can’t spend my days covered in clay—paint, soggy food, and kiddie germs are by far the next best thing.

When I return from lunch ten minutes early like always, twangs of acoustic guitar are floating through Mini-Bees. Tej croons a smoky rendition of “Brahms’ Lullaby” to his gathering of fun-size fans, who all sit with their mouths hanging open like carnival clowns. I mosey over to Hannah’s side and glance her way. “Um…is he hypnotising the kids?”

I catch her staring at Ella with a glimmer of melancholy in her expression, but it’s gone in a flash, replaced by one of her serene smiles. “Oh yeah. That’s Tej’s superpower.”

“A man of many talents.” I chuckle. “Tell me, why’s he working here with a voice like that?”

Hannah stares at Tej as if she, too, is entranced. She shrugs. “It’s one of life’s great mysteries.”

My gaze lingers on her for a beat. She’s striking today. Wavy tendrils of cinnamon-brown hair frame her rosy cheeks, and her flowy blouse matches her sky-blue eyes. Hannah’s like the first day of real spring: warm, cheery, and filled with all the beginnings of life. But at times, her mind seems to live in a land far from nice. I guess it’s not easy being a young mum.

Finishing the final bar, Tej plucks the last tranquil note, then opens his eyes, flashing a white grin that pops against his light-brown skin and floppy jet-black hair. “Okay, my loyal munchkins, what shall I play for you next?” Little arms fly into the air, and high-pitched voices whimper to be chosen. “Ella,” Tej says, winking up at Hannah. “What would you like to sing?”

Hannah grins at her daughter but leans in towards me. “The Wiggles. ‘Rock-a-Bye Your Bear,’” she whispers behind a cupped hand.

“Umm.” Deep in thought, Ella rubs her little lips. “Rocky bear, please.”

“Good choice, and good manners,” Tej says before rising from his chair and sliding it aside with his boot. The children follow his lead and stand, jumping and bopping in anticipation. “Now, remember, if you don’t know the actions, just make them up.” Tej strums the first notes on his guitar, and the lullaby calm is chased out of the room by a burst of high-energy rock. The children buzz. Little arms and legs flail, flap, and bounce in all directions, and they’re so damn cute—so untainted and free—I dissolve into laughter.

Ella rocks an imaginary bear in her arms with such gusto she loses her balance with each jumbo swing. Giggling, Hannah shrugs up her hands. “What can I say? Clearly, she’s the next Maddie Ziegler.”

We watch the pandemonium for another hilarious minute before Hannah frowns as if she’s heard something. “I think we’ve woken up Jack. I’ll be back.”

I glance up at the clock, remembering the reason I return early from lunch, and then eye the elevator. Like clockwork, a minute later it dings, boosting my heartbeat to the tempo of the song. The golden doors slide open, and Cole’s glimmering eyes meet mine. He’s alone, like always. And offers me a nod, like always. Politely, I smile, ignoring my traitorous cheeks as their heat travels south, sparking everything to life.

If working at Mini-Bees is a sumptuous red velvet cake—1:35 p.m. is the decadent cream cheese frosting.

Typically, I behave during these encounters, but today when Cole steps out of that softly lit cabin, time stands still, and my gaze drifts down the length of his body as if controlled by another force. I admire every nuance of his frame. The skim of that V-neck vest across his broad chest. The emerald tie that dips behind it. His relaxed hands-in-pockets stride, and the way those black suit pants gently hug his lean yet solid legs.

Our eyes meet again as he skirts the great glass wall of Mini-Bees, but this time his are darker—harder—and I flinch awake.

Uh-oh.Busted.

Severing contact, I stare at my dirty pink Chucks as Tej’s guitar and the song roll back into my awareness like they’ve returned from outer space.

God, what’s wrong with me?

Yes, we exchanged some flirty texts. And yes, he bought me a phone. But ever since I set foot inside Mini-Bees twelve days ago, Cole has been nothing but professional.

I should be doing something constructive. Cleaning. Restocking the nappy bay. Dying the macaroni for Monday’s jewellery making session. Maybe that’s why he stares. He’s paying me to work, yet I stand here every day like a perverted slacker, toying with the notion a man like him could ever be interested in little lost me.

You have no substance, Avery Lee. You’re just a shiny, empty tin.

I grind the tip of my shoe into a trio of carpet stars. It’s just…I felt something.

The door to Mini-Bees unlatches, and I look up to find Cole walking in. My breath hitches. He never comes in. Shit, am I in trouble? If covering my eyes could make me magically vanish, I’d do it this very second, but unfortunately toddler logic isn’t particularly sound.

Cole strolls over and halts at my side, bringing with him that soft sandalwood-rose scent. Resisting the urge to sniff the man, I force a trembling smile that probably appears creepy. “Hi,” I say with a regrettable dorky wave in case he didn’t hear me over the music.

Cole returns the smile, but his isn’t creepy at all. It’s a smooth and sexy smirk that tilts up to the left and triggersthatdimple. “Hi,” he half yells, returning his hands to his pockets. That one baritone word runs through my veins like warm maple syrup. “How are you?”

“Good.” I nod, too eagerly, like an overenthusiastic bobble head. “Yourself?”

“Good,” he says before falling silent.

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