Page 40 of More Than a Helping Hand

The kiss isn’t frenzied. He’s unhurried, intentional. Powerful and gentle. He threads his fingers into my hair and tips my head back, then trails kisses down my neck. My lips feel scorched, but maybe that’s just the beard.

When he pulls back, I lean forward, not ready for this to end.

But my leg sticks to the counter.

“Honey.” It’s a timely reminder that I’m a single mom, and this is a dangerous path.

Desire swirls in his eyes, and he chuckles. “I didn’t expect that pet name, but I’ll take it.”

I run a hand down his chest. “It’s what I’m sitting in. Bailey’s current favorite snack is dipping bananas in honey, then rolling them in dried cranberries.”

“Sounds yummy.” He leans around and looks at my thigh. “Need help getting it cleaned up?”

That eyebrow quirks, and I pull him back in for another kiss. As long as I’m stuck here, I might as well enjoy myself. Even if it is dangerous.

* * *

Anderson is stretchedout on the floor, assembling my bedframe, which seems like the perfect opportunity to bare my soul. He’s focused on something else and can’t look at me.

“What I said earlier about being bad at relationships… that was me trying to explain why this scares me. If we’d just met somewhere random, you wouldn’t have met Bailey yet. Not for a long while. And I definitely wouldn’t have asked you to help me move.”

He shifts and rubs his sock against my leg. “I’m listening.”

“But if we are going to do this, you need to know… stuff.”

His head pokes out from under the frame. “You mean like your middle name?”

“Speaking of middle names, please be careful when Bailey is around that she doesn’t see me texting you or vice versa. I changed your contact to your middle name, so she wouldn’t know it was you.”

“Good thinking. I’ll take care of that tonight. But my middle name, really? Why not something like The Cowboy?”

“Too obvious.”

“Or Mr. Muscles?”

“Seriously?”

“Or Cactus Man.”

I laugh. “You going to wear a green leotard and run around poking villains?”

“There is no way I’m wearing a leotard. Not happening. I’m not even sure how I’d look in a unitard.”

“What’s the difference?”

He slides out and sits up. “A leotard doesn’t cover the legs. It’s like a ladies’ one-piece swimsuit. A unitard covers the legs.” Pointing at his legs, he wiggles his eyebrows. “I know you like looking at these, but shorts is the best I can do. I’m not squeezing into a leotard.”

“And how, pray tell, do you know so much about this topic?”

Smiling, he slides back under the frame. “My sister was in dance for a while. You could name my contact Prickle Butt.”

I rub his foot. “Why do I feel like there is a story there?”

“Because there is. You were there, remember?” He smirks. “Oh, you meant the dance thing. That’s part of my story. And when you’re ready, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“Bailey’s dad was my first serious boyfriend. Totally swept me off my feet. I was young and far away from home. He was a smooth talker. When I told him that I was pregnant, he seemed so supportive. Talked about how we’d get married and be this perfect little family. He was about to graduate, so I was convinced life would be wonderful.”

After a couple of seconds of quiet, Anderson’s sock brushes my leg.

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