Patrollers didn’t get paid sick days—a reality Jesse had never had to face before—so this was going to be hell on his next paycheck.
Note to self: Stay far away from children, even cute ones.
What about their mother?
He brushed the question aside. It was time for full-scale germ warfare.
He started in the bedroom, stripping his bed and throwing his sheets and blanket in the washing machine on hot. He disinfected his alarm clock, the doorknobs, and light switches with bleach wipes, then moved on to the bathroom. He scrubbed the sink, the toilet, and the tub, then cleaned all of the surfaces—the doorknob, the light switch, the soap bottle, the handles on his medicine cabinet.
He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, saw the stupid smile on his face.
Knock it off, dumbshit.
He’d been thinking aboutheragain.
So Ellie was attracted to him. So what? She wasn’t his type.
Okay, so he didn’t really have a “type.” He didn’t care whether a woman was blond or brunette. He didn’t care how big her breasts were, didn’t care if she was short or tall, skinny or curvy. He just liked women.
When it came to relationships, however, he avoided all but the uncomplicated kind. Getting involved with Ellie would be anythingbutuncomplicated.
For starters, she was a mother—of twins no less—and children had never been a part of Jesse’s plan. Hell, no. He’d rather cut off his nuts with a dull razor blade than fuck up some poor kid’s life the way his father had fucked up his.
But more than that, Ellie was Crash’s widow. Getting it on with the widow of a brother-in-arms was deep in the no-go zone, a serious violation of the code. It didn’t matter how pretty she was or how long it had been since Jesse had gotten laid. It was his duty to have her back, not get her onto her back.
That thought wiped the smile off his face.
He finished the bathroom, moved on to the kitchen and then the living room, finally sweeping and mopping his wood floors. When he had finished, he carried the bucket of water toward the side door. He would toss the water outside into the snow, where the sun and cold could kill any remaining germs.
He opened the door—and gave a shriek. “What the … ?”
Ellie stood frozen in place, her fist raised as if about to knock, her mouth open in surprise. Her gaze moved over him, head to toe, her cheeks slowly turning red.
It was then that he remembered he was wearing only a pair of boxer briefs and yellow Playtex gloves.
Son of a bitch.
“I’m so, so sorry to startle you. I … um…” Her gaze snapped up to meet his. “I came to check on you, to make sure you were… uh … feeling better.”
“I’m fine. I’m good. Thanks.”Pull it together, idiot!“No worries. I’m just cleaning. I didn’t realize you were here.”
Had he just screamed?
Jesus.
She nodded, hugged her arms to her chest as if she were cold. “I’m glad you’re better. I’ll let you get back to it. I need to pick up the kids.”
With that, she turned and hurried down his driveway toward her car.
He watched her leave, then stepped outside and tossed the contents of the bucket onto the snow, feeling like an idiot.
Way to go, buddy.
* * *
“He answeredthe door wearing only underwear and rubber gloves—and you walked away?”
Ellie sank back into the sofa cushions, rolling her eyes so hard she thought her sister must have heard it over the phone. The kids were asleep, and it was her time to relax. Not that this particular conversation was relaxing. “He didn’t answer the door. I never got to knock. I startled him. He had no idea I was standing there.”