Page 16 of Totally Off Limits

Unafraid to let her glimpse at the soft spot he had inside.

“I promise you don’t want to eat what I’d attempted.”

“It smells pretty good.”

With a frown, Sierra moved over to the stove and picked up the skillet. After lifting the lid, she used the spatula to flip over the crusted breasts to reveal the blackened scorched underside. “If you like charcoal, I’ve got you covered.”

The twinkle in his eyes made her not care a bit about the failed meal. “Was that all you were making?”

“No. There are potatoes in the oven that have probably been there too long.” Grabbing an oven mitt, she pulled the door open. The skins around the potatoes seemed oversized now, meaning she’d probably overbaked them—but at least they weren’t burned. She took them out and placed them on the counter. “Do you like pizza? I could call and have one delivered.”

“Whatever you want.”

“That’s what I get for trying. I hate cooking. And this is what happens when you do something you’re not good at.”

“Youhatecooking? What’s to hate?”

“What’s tolove?”

“Everything. What I love about cooking is you’re taking care of yourself. It’s an expression of love, because you actuallycareabout the ingredients. And trust me. Once you’ve spent weeks on the road eating shitty fast food, you never want to do that again.” As if an afterthought, he looked over at Mia…who was hanging on his every word. “Sorry. I probably need to watch my mouth around her.”

“I’ve had to do that. She picks up new words pretty quickly nowadays. Don’t you, baby? You love to talk, don’t you?”

“Yes!” Mia smiled and giggled and picked up a red cube and brought it to Mickey. “Block.”

Mickey squatted beside her, taking the block she’d handed him. “Are you going to make something with those?”

“Yes.”

“What are you going to make?” When Mia seemed to consider pondering his words, he asked, “Are you going to build a house?”

“A house.”

“Yeah.” With a grin, Mia walked back to her pile of blocks as if on a mission. Mickey said, “Do you want me to help you make something?”

“I don’t really have much to make. I was thinking about making hamburgers because I have a pound of ground beef in the fridge and a loaf of bread.”

“Mind if I scope out your kitchen?”

“Be my guest.” Sierra took a step back, waving her hand as if giving him the entire room. Technically, she was. She loved seeing this side of Mickey she’d never known existed.

While he scrutinized her jars of spices, she turned to glance at Mia. The way everything the child approached was so brand new and fun inspired Sierra to be the best mom she could—and just what little interaction she’d witnessed between Mickey and Sierra had shown that he’d probably be a hell of a dad.

But no. That could never be.

Still…her mother couldn’t say shit if Mickey was her child’s godfather, now could she?

While those wheels were turning in Sierra’s head, Mickey had moved on to looking in other cabinets, and Sierra said, “There’s other stuff here,” pointing to the lower corner cabinet that rotated, chock full of things she rarely used. “And then, of course, the fridge.”

“I got it.” After assessing everything, he said, “You have a huge bowl of salad in here.”

“Yeah, that was for dinner. The one thing I couldn’t overcook. And that cheesecake is for dinner, too.”

Eyeing the box, he said, “You reallydon’tlike to cook, do you?”

“I don’t have time. Between work and school and Mia—” Shit. She’d let the cat out of the bag about school—but why did it matter? It wasn’t like Mickey was going to run to her parents and blab.

“You make time for what’s important. I get it. I’m not judging you. I’ve never had a kid, so I don’t know what that’s like.” For a second, his eyes took on a wistful look—but maybe that was just Sierra’s imagination. “I have an idea for dinner. Since the potatoes are done and there’s a salad, we could be eating in about half an hour—faster than pizza delivery. What do you say?”

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