She just shrugged. “At least I’m not afraid to try.”
Jeez. Getting kicked out of my uncle’s house and put in myplace by my nine-year-old wasn’t on my bingo card for the day, but it looked like I didn’t have a choice.
I reached forward and yanked a blue crayon from the cheap cardboard box, pointing it at my daughter. “Alright, smarty pants… Let’s make a deal. Whoever loses has to do dishes for a week.”
Charlie narrowed her eyes. “What about Duke and Harper? That’s not fair if they don’t have the same rules.”
I turned to Duke. Charlie was right. If it was going to be a team event, he had to be on board. “Well?”
Duke looked at Harper, who had a smirk on her face. A dare. A challenge. With a simple nod, he said, “Alright. I’m in.”
Lucy staredbetween our two art pieces, tilting her head back and forth as though she was a famed art critic instead of a restaurant owner we’d paid twenty bucks to judge us impartially.
Twenty bucks was a good investment if it meant I won.
Of course, there was no way to tell whose was whose. Our mats had been face down when we asked her if she’d be willing to do it. Then we mixed them up a couple of times for good measure.
“Well?” Charlie asked. Her big blue eyes were so wide; it was the perfect puppy-dog pout. Lucy looked her way, visibly softening under my daughter’s gaze.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” I snapped my fingers in front of Charlie’s face. “That’s the oldest trick in the book, and it’s not allowed.”
“She doesn’t even know which one is mine, Mom. How could I possibly cheat?”
Okay, so she had a point. But I knew my daughter would do some shady things to get out of doing dishes for a whole week. I couldn’t trust her when so much was on the line.
“No tricks. Keep those big, blue eyes to yourself,” I said, leaning back in the booth.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Duke shaking his head in silent laughter at our banter. There was something different about him today. He seemed lighter. Less guarded. And I’d counted two smiles since we sat down.
Our newfound camaraderie felt an awful lot like friendship. Being able to spend time with someone who not only understood the pressures of being a parent but also the impending demise of my uncle was freeing somehow. It had been a long time since I had a friend who understood.
My only problem is that I wasn’t sure friendship was what I wanted. At least, not entirely.
I didn’t have much experience with relationships. Before I married Grady, I had a handful of boyfriends who never made it past the six-month mark. Then I married my best friend in a ruse to take over my family’s company and help his music career. We were only supposed to stay married a few years. Enough to satisfy the press and the Hartstrings board of directors so they’d allow me to assume my position as the company’s CEO.
But as the years passed, neither Grady nor I had any interest in going through the divorce process. He would forever be pining over the one who got away, while I was convinced I’d be the really cool single aunt someday.
And then came Cleo.
I personally had zero interest in dating. Which was fine, seeing as I also barely had time to fly home and see my daughter a couple of times a month. For whatever reason, being aroundDuke was changing things for me. And it wasn’t just the realization of how lonely I’d been since the divorce.
It washim.
His looks. His smell. His moody demeanor. His stupid slutty little mustache. His deep voice. His calloused hands.
Oh god, his hands. They were massive and looked like they were carved from marble. On more than one occasion, I’d found myself wondering how they’d feel as he ran the rough pads along my body gently. Reverently. How he’d grip my hips, bruising them with each mindless thrust.
I’d had to charge my little pink bullet twice since I got here.
While I could blame the sudden horniness on the fact that it’d been a very long time since I had sex, it wasn’t that simple. Nothing and no one else made me feel the way I did when I was with him. Not even my trusty book boyfriends, which I found extremely frustrating as I tried to relax one evening with my favorite one-handed read. A mustache showing up on my favorite fae prince really put a damper on things.
“You good there?” Duke asked, pulling me from my thoughts. The entire table was staring at me with concern.
“Sorry. Must have zoned out there for a minute,” I said, smiling weakly. I looked toward the girls and Lucy. “Did you pick a winner?”
Lucy shook her head. “You know, this is a lot of pressure to put a single person under,” she muttered. “But I suppose if I had to choose, I’d go with…” Her eyes darted between the two sheets. “This one.”
I closed my eyes to the sound of Harper and Charlie whooping loudly. Everyone turned towards our table as Duke and I launched into our complaints, demanding to know why theirs won over ours.