Page 67 of Coach Me
Lucie splits and rolls out the dough with Miles’s help. All while, yes, making a fucking mess with the flour. I don’t give a single damn about it either. I don’t think this kitchen has heard this much laughter ever.
Miles giggles uncontrollably as Lucie tosses the dough in the air like she’s done this forever.
“Please don’t get the pizza stuck on my ceiling.”
“I think I’m really getting the hang of this.” Lucie beams as she catches the dough and then lays it back on the counter.
Miles jumps up and down. “Do the next one! Do mine!”
“Okay, okay.” Lucie picks up his next, and Miles’s laughter fills the apartment. God, it’s the best fucking sound.
I continue to cut the veggies while still watching Miles be completely mesmerized by Lucie.I’m completely mesmerized by Lucie.
And that comes at a cost, because as Lucie tosses the dough in the air I completely slice my hand. “Motherfu?—”
“Dex?” Lucie cuts me off, keeping her voice even. I’m sure it’s not to freak out Miles any more than I just did.
“It’s fine, I just cut my finger.” It’s a cut from a sharp blade, so naturally it’s bleeding pretty good.
“It’s bleeding, Daddy! Lucie! It’s bleeding!” Miles panics.
Shit, I grab a nearby rag to hold on my hand. “It’s okay, bud, I promise. I’m okay.”
Lucie gives Miles a small smile, then moves to me. She grabs two cherry tomatoes off the board and hands themto Miles. “I’m going to go help your dad. Why don’t you give these to Pip and Pop for me?”
Miles’s bottom lip hangs. “But Daddy’s bleeding.”
“And I’m going to make it stop.” Lucie’s voice is calm. “I promise. Now, give the turtles their treats and we’ll meet you there, okay?”
“Okay.” Miles sulks the whole way to the living room.
Lucie turns to me with a small smile. “Let me see, Masterchef.”
“Luce, if you weren’t just so good with my son, you’d be paying for that comment.” The flirt comes out before I can stop it, but Lucie doesn’t even blush, or I think even catch it.
She steps in, standing so close to me now—hell, even the way she smells feels bright, like honeysuckle and jasmine.
Lucie looks up to meet my eyes as her hands touch mine. “I’m not afraid of you, Coach.”
Fuck, she’s killing me. Here I am, thinking my comment will throw her off kilter, but no, it’s her throwing me off.
I swallow hard and whisper, “I think I’m afraid of you.”
The admission isn’t something I want to take back—I am scared of Lucie. Scared of what having her around much more will do to me. Scared of what it could mean if she left, because let’s face it, I won’t exactly need a nanny and homeschool teacher forever.
But to Lucie, I’m pretty sure my whispered confession comes off more as a joke. The corners of her mouth tilt up for a second before she swallows, then looks down at my hand. It’s for the fucking best, I guess.
It’s finally stopped bleeding, and really, it’s fine, but Lucie hums. “I’m going to get a Band-Aid for Miles’s sake. Where are they at?”
“Under the sink in the guest bathroom.”
Lucie looks back up at me as her hands still rest on mine. Everything about this moment feels charged. One sign—I mean one fucking hint of her wanting more—and I might finally break. One more second of her hands touching me. One hitch of her breath and a part in her lips, and I’m done.
Yeah, I’m fucking afraid of her. I’m afraid I’ll never know what she tastes like. What her moans sound like in my ear. What these days could be like if she was more than the fucking nanny. I want her so damn bad that it terrifies me.
Her hand is still touching me. Fuck, what’s one lean in?
“Daddy! I got you a Band-Aid!”
