Page 42 of Delayed Penalty

The floor squeaks, and I spin around like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t be—and I guess I have. There my new roommate stands, her brown hair in a braid that hangs over her shoulder, wearing an oversized cream-colored sweater, her jeans dark and form-fitting. Those damn ridiculous earrings she loves so much dangle from her ears, hippos in tutus today. Flora would love them.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For helping me move. And for the bag ofbutterscotch candies I found in my room. You didn’t have to do that.”

I shrug. “I owed you, remember?”

She smiles, and I hate how much I like it, especially when the dimple near the bottom of her lip pokes through.

“So I was wondering…” She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Could you give me a hand with moving my dresser? It’s not quite where I want it.”

It’s the first thing she’s asked of me since I saw her sex toys, and I find it amusing how timid she is asking such a simple question.

“Sure. I just called in some Chinese. I hope that’s okay. Hutch and Auden should be back with Flora around the time the food arrives. I promised them dinner for watching her today.”

She nods. “That sounds good. I’m excited to see her.”

I grin. “She’s been talking nonstop—or at least as nonstop as Flora talks, meaning she’s mentioned it more than once—about how she can’t wait for you to live here with her. I think…I think you make her happier than she’s ever been before.”

Quinn frowns. “That’s heartbreaking. She’s seven. Her life should be nothing but happiness.”

Sometimes, with my life now, I forget that noteveryone’s had the same childhood. I can relate to Flora and her shitty upbringing far more than I care to admit. I was a lot like her at her age, quiet and uncertain around other people. Then I grew up and realized I could use those people like they’ve used me all their lives—I could get lost in them, escape the dark corners of my mind. So, that’s what I did…and it bit me in the ass more times than I can count.

I hope that’s not what Flora is doing with Quinn and whatever bond they’re forming is genuine. Flora needs that. And I might need it too.

That’s later though, something way far down the road when I’m at a more stable point in my life and not barely hanging on.

“Lead the way,” I tell Quinn, nodding toward the hall.

She turns, her absurd earrings swaying with the movement, and I follow her to her bedroom, trying very hard to keep my eyes off her ass and my mind off her sex toys.

Fuck. There I go thinking of them again.

She leads me to her dresser, standing on one side and pointing to another.

“I’d like it over there instead.” She points to the wall beside the window. “It’ll give me more natural light while doing my makeup.”

I want to tell her she doesn’tneedmakeup, but whatdo I know? She could be wearing it right now, but I wouldn’t even be able to tell. I’ve seen the magic women can work with that stuff. Sometimes, when I think they’re wearing nothing at all, it’s a lie.

“Sure. Ready when you are.”

I grab one end of the dresser, she is stationed at the other, and we lift it. I hold the bulk of it so she doesn’t have to do much of the work. If she notices, she doesn’t say anything as we maneuver it to the spot she wants. She stands in front of the mirror, leaning forward to fix something on her face, presumably testing the light, and my eyes drop straight to her ass.

It’s wrong. So fucking wrong. She’s my new nanny, for fuck’s sake. But I can’t help it. Not when it looks so good in her tight jeans.

She stands up straight, and I snap my eyes away, pretending I wasn’t looking, but the second our eyes collide in the mirror, I know one thing for sure—she saw. Her nostrils flare, but that’s the only reaction I get before she spins and points to her bed.

“I want you there.”

“Excuse me?”

Her eyes widen. “I… Uh…” She clears her throat. “I meant I want to move the bed too, so could you go over there?”

Oh. That makes more sense.

I move to where she’s pointing, and we adjust thebed to how she likes it. Why she didn’t boss Lawson and Fox around to do this is beyond me. That’s what I hired them for. And by hired them, I mean blackmailed them into it, reminding them I had pictures of them doing nefarious things from our last trip before Lawson became a good boy for his girl, Rory, and stopped going places with us. Fox just didn’t want anyone to see that he certainly felt like a woman dancing in the aisles during the Shania Twain show we went to.

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