Page 34 of Captivating Mr. Second Chance

Code words: I’m not giving up.

11

Ethan generally wasn’t a liar, but it wasn’t beneath him to tell an occasional white lie. That was why he texted Laney,Can you come over? I have an emergency.

She texted back almost immediately. As he knew she would.What’s wrong? Are you okay?

I’m having an animal problem.

Animal problem?!!

Please come over. Quick, he messaged then added his address.

He laughed to himself. Did it make him an asshole to worry her? Maybe. But all was fair in love and war.

Not even fifteen minutes later, she was at his door, windblown and red-cheeked. “What is it?” she asked, her eyes darting over his shoulder, into his place. He lived on the first floor of his apartment complex, and his door opened up to a closet so she couldn’t see anything. It was a terrible choice in design, although it made her face of shock even better when Trace growled from the living room. “What is that? A raccoon? Why did you want me? I can’t do anything about a raccoon!”

He laughed, towing her inside with his hand on her wrist. “I have never been in close contact with a raccoon, but I don’t think they growl.” He lifted his hand out to his nephew, currently crouched down on all fours, his head thrown back as he growled again. “My animal problem.”

Laney guffawed and unraveled her scarf from around her neck. “I thought something was really wrong. A bear attack or, or…” She flopped her hands down at her sides, glowering at Ethan. “You’re awful, you know that?”

He apologized, completely unrepentant, and then beckoned Trace over. “Hey, T-rex, come here.”

Trace lifted his arms to his sides and stomped over to them, letting out a low rumble. “I’m a brachiosaurus.”

“Excuse me,” Ethan said with his hands up then tipped his chin to Laney. “This is my friend.”

Laney squatted down to Trace’s eye level. “I’m Laney. Should I call you brachiosaurus, or do you go by another name?”

“Trace,” he said then stomped away, roaring. “We’re playing Jurassic Park. Wanna play?”

When Laney tossed Ethan a look, he grinned. “Wanna play?”

She hung her purse, scarf, and coat on the rack and tugged on her loose long-sleeved shirt. She must have run right out of the house because her socks were mismatched when she took her shoes off. “Don’t think you’re cute.”

He pressed his thumb and index finger together. “A little?”

She pointed to Trace. “He’s cute.”

“I thought you’d think so.”

She elbowed him on her way to the living room, where she sat on the floor with Trace, who had a variety of jungle animals and dinosaurs lined up. “Quite an emergency.”

Trace bellowed like a siren, echoing, “Emergency! Emergency!” Then he growled and bowled over an elephant with a dinosaur. “Here.” He handed Laney a tiger. “T-rex and Tiger fight a lot.”

Laney and Trace faced off with their plastic toys, and Ethan slid down on the floor next to her, extending his legs and propping his back against the sofa. “You eat already?”

She shook her head and wound her hair up in a messy knot. It wasn’t as straight as it’d been when he’d seen her at the bar, the beginnings of curls taking root, a few flyaways waving by her cheek.

“I have veggie lasagna,” he said in a whisper so Trace didn’t hear. If his nephew knew how many vegetables Ethan had hidden away in the sauce, he’d never eat it. “Will you stay?”

Trace raised his hands in the air. “Uncle Efan said we can have a sprinkle party later!”

“What’s a sprinkle party?” Laney asked him.

“We have ice cream with sprinkles and dance. Woo-hoo! Sprinkle party!” Then he stood up and waggled his butt side to side like an excited puppy.

She blew out a breath. “I guess I can’t say no to a sprinkle party.” When she slanted her gaze to Ethan, she leaned back next to him, digging her fingertip into his thigh, and he deserved an Oscar for acting as if the tingle didn’t shoot straight to his dick. “Don’t smile.”

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