Page 9 of His for the Taking

“I’ll do that now. Thanks again, Kody.”

“You’re welcome. See you.” She hangs up the phone well before I’m ready, and there’s no fucking way I’m touching that subject. Not when I’ve got a hard cock and a fantasy to play out in the shower. Christ, Kody might be doing me a favor when it comes to Josephine. Too bad all it’s doing for me is making my dick ache with the need to feel her tight wet heat surrounding me. It’s going to be a long-as-fuck night.

12

KODY

Dear God, it’s entirely too early to be up, out the door, barely caffeinated, and looking like I’m not trying to attract the attention of a man who makes me act like a giggling schoolgirl. I will say it was nice to hear him not so composed. I probably should have made him sweat a little more, and I would have, too, if it weren’t for Josephine. My only saving grace was my brother making me a mug of coffee doctored up just how I liked it. He gave me a quick hug, and then we were both heading out the door.

Now, I’m standing at his door, a coffee mug in my hand, my crossbody bag holding everything I should need plus a surprise for Josephine, and I’ve got my hand raised to knock on the door. What I don’t expect is for Jameson to answer the door before I make contact, or the way his eyes sweep my body from head to toe. The same could be said for myself. Clearly, he’s in his business mode, unlike me. I went for comfort since I’d be chasing after a toddler today. A white top, semi-cropped, black leggings, a flannel, socks, and a pair of suede clogs. My hair is pulled to the side in a braid, and I opted for no makeup. Jameson, though, dear God Almighty, the man is filling out his clothes in all the right ways. A dark blue long-sleeved buttoned shirt, jeans that mold to his muscular legs, and I’m having a hard time controlling my tongue from licking my lips. Even his hair is styled, though I have to admit, I like it best when it looks like he’s run his fingers through it a thousand times a day.

“Hey,” I finally break the silence, kind of hating myself because it also broke the trance he seemed to be absorbed in. The man is definitely hard to read when his walls are built up so high. When he does drop them, well, it makes me forget all the reasons I’m currently on a hiatus from men.

“Hey, come on in. Josephine is still asleep, except she’s in my room. I’ll show you the way as well as the house. We’re pretty easy going. She’ll take a nap after lunch and has no problem letting you know what she’d prefer to eat.” There’s the no-bullshit Jameson Evans I’ve come to know. It’s like a light switch he can turn on and off at any given time.

“Sounds good. Lead the way.” I walk in as he steps back, opening the door for me. I notice there’s an area off to the side with shoes, so I move toward it and kick mine off. I’m really glad I decided to wear socks because Jameson’s home is wall-to-wall wood flooring. There’s no way my feet wouldn’t get cold, and I’m pretty sure he’d frown upon me searching his laundry room or bedroom for a pair of socks to stay warm.

“Living room. The remote is on the coffee table. JoJo’s toys are in the built-in cabinets.” He points toward the area. My eyes sweep the room from each direction. The soft beige walls with the dark wood floors are beautiful, and the leather couches look warn and lived in. You can tell Jameson takes pride in his home. The built-in cabinets house frames with pictures of him and Josephine as well as a few of their family. There are a few books scattered throughout to bring it together.

“Alright. Anything she can’t get into?” I ask.

“Nope, the place is pretty much still baby proof. The garage would be the only place I wouldn’t want her, but you shouldn’t need to go in there. Which reminds me, I’ll put the spare car seat in your car on my way out, just in case.” My head spins sharply to his, taken aback by him leaving me with a car seat. Never in my wildest imagination would I think Jameson Evans would give over that much control. “Just in case. I don’t want you stranded out here if something were to happen. Not that I’m expecting anything, but life can be a fickle bitch.” He must have read my expression clear as day. It’s not like I can hide my expressive ways; it’s the one quality I wish I could control.

“Yeah, makes sense.” He walks me near the open kitchen.

“Kitchen. Help yourself to whatever. Josephine has no food allergies.” He’s on a mission because I barely get a look at the dark olive-green cabinets and stone countertop before we’re walking down the hallway.

“That’s good to know. Is she fond of anything particular?” I ask quietly to his back, uncertain if JoJo is a deep sleeper.

“Pancakes, eggs, but you don’t have to do all of that.” He opens a door. “Josephine’s room. Bathroom is across the hall. The next door on the left is my home office, and that leaves us with my bedroom.” I remain silent while following him. His backside… shew goodness. Broad shoulders, tapering to a waist that is not thin in the least. Don’t get me wrong; he’s muscular, but not in a lean way at all, and his ass can definitely fill out a pair of jeans.

“My room.” He opens the door and walks inside while I remain at the doorway. My shoulder rests against the frame, and I watch as Jameson bends over the massive king-size bed. It’s what he does next that kicks me right in the heart. There, in the middle of his bed, lies a little girl who’s currently sprawled out, and the man who definitely has two sides to him. Well, let’s just say seeing Jameson with his daughter is like seeing him come to life. One knee goes to the bed, and he moves soft tufts of blonde curls off her forehead, places a kiss there, whispers something in her ear, and then tucks her in. Jameson Evans as a dad is one of the hottest fucking things ever. Too bad when he opens his mouth he loses any manners his mother ever taught him. At least when it comes to me, they’re practically they’re non-existent. I back away, allowing him to finish telling Josephine goodbye, and walk back toward the kitchen. It’s a really good thing he’s not the nicest to me, or I’d be breaking my vow of man-hating in a heartbeat.

13

KODY

“Kody, you here!” I heard the rustling of sheets in the living room an hour after Jameson left. So, I got up from my place on the couch, choosing to keep the house quiet so I could keep my ear out for her waking up. Now, I’m sitting on the edge of Jameson’s bed, watching as Josephine’s arms lift up in a big stretch. I was almost worried I’d scare her if I came in here, but I figured her waking up alone without Jameson making noise in the house would be worse.

“I am. I hear you and I are going to have fun today.” I’m actually surprised she slept well past eight o’clock in the morning. Jameson really won in the sleeping-in lottery with his daughter.

“Yes!” she whisper-shouts, and then I realize she’s been asleep for a while and probably needs to head to the bathroom.

“How about I start breakfast while you go to the bathroom?” I didn’t even ask Jameson if she was wearing a nighttime trainer or not. What a rookie move that was.

“Otay, fwench toast?” she asks. I nod. That’s easy enough, and I’m sure Jameson has every amenity handy when it comes to food.

“You got it. Do you need help in the bathroom?” She shakes her head. “Alright.” I’ll let her do her own thing in the bathroom. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to stay within hearing distance just in case. I stand up, and she rips the sheets off her little body and does a stomach shimmy off the bed until her feet touch the ground. Then all that’s heard is the pitter-patter of her feet against the wood floor. A light automatically turns on when she walks into the bathroom, and I stay where I’m planted, waiting for her to do her thing in case she needs anything. I’m going over what we’re going to do to stay busy today when I hear the flush of the toilet then the turning on of the faucet, and after what seems like minutes of her splashing around in the sink, Josephine comes out.

“All set?”

“Yes.” The tail end of her word comes out like a hiss with her little lisp. “I hungry.” She holds her hand out for me to take and then leads me out of Jameson’s bedroom. A good thing because his woodsy scent is doing dangerous things to my senses.

“What do you want to do after breakfast? Well, after you get dressed and we do your hair.” We make it to the end of the hallway. JoJo lets go of my hand, darting to the remote on the coffee table to turn on the television.

“Toons!” I guess that settles that. She’s going to watch cartoons, and I’m going to make breakfast. On the counter, there are various things spread out. If I’m cooking, the first order of business is at least picking up. I start on my task, doing a search through the drawers to get myself acclimated as I put away a rogue cord, a few pens, and a notepad. The rest are cups and sippy cups; those go in the sink for now. Then I’m going after the ingredients while I keep an eye on Josephine.

“Are you thirsty?” I call out, opening the fridge. There’s milk, orange juice, and apple juice.

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