Page 26 of Rebel

“We are?” She looked at me and then back to Logan, bouncing on her toes, ready to burst with energy. “What are we gonna do?”

“We’ll figure something out, kiddo.” He tweaked her nose and laughed when she giggled. Logan stood and faced me. “I’m gonna give you a ride home after the show. Don’t leave the studio until I tell you we’re here. Got it?”

I was breathless at his commanding tone, and I nodded slowly because the lust he created fogged up my brain. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Good.” He scooped Livvy up into his arms as if he’d been doing it since the day she was born.

“Bye Mommy!” Livvy leaned in for a hug and a kiss which brought Logan and his too masculine scent far too close to me.

“Bye honey. Have fun and make sure you listen to Logan, okay?”

“I will. See you later.”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “See you later.” They walked out and I stood there staring after them, wondering if he’d figure it out before they picked me up tonight.

“Damn girl.” Mia finally broke the silence. “You didn’t tell me it was likethat.”

“Like what?” I knew exactly what she meant. Electric. Combustible. Dangerous.

The entire production team exploded with laughter.

My cheeks flamed. “Okay people, back to work.” I smacked my palms together and dropped my head forward to cover the blush staining my cheeks.

That man was walking, talking temptation.

I couldn’t hide my reaction to him if I wanted to, so I did what I did best.

I got back to work.

Chapter Twelve

Rebel

“Wait, you want me to do what?” I stared at Livvy’s smiling face, so damn adorable—and manipulative—and wondered what in the hell I’d gotten myself into.

“Hold your hand like this.” She spread her fingers wide on a paper towel on the coffee table.

“I got that part. Why?”

Her laughter was sneaky and contagious. “So I can paint your nails.” Her tone indicated I should’ve already guessed that.

It was decision time. It wasn’t that I was worried that nail polish would put my masculinity at risk but rather the dexterity of her little hands. “Have you done this before?”

She nodded. “Sometimes Mommy or Auntie Mia will let me practice.”

Little liar. “Fine but don’t get it all over my fingers, okay?”

“Yay!” She jumped up and down and then pulled a giant plastic bin of nail polish bottles from under the table. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Black.” It was the honest answer, but her pout said it was the wrong answer.

“Okay,” she drew the word out to about seven syllables before she finally fished out a black bottle. And a yellow bottle.

I slid from the sofa to the floor to save my back and watched as she set everything out, her expression so serious I could barely contain my laughter. “I can still have tea with this hand, right?”

She nodded without looking up and set my fingertips in some contraption that only women knew about. “Yes. More tea?”

“I’m good.” That’s right, the power of her adorableness had already gotten her a tea party complete with real tea—ice cold and sweet—and cookies. It was odd, how much I enjoyed being around this little girl. She made me feel light and free, and protective as hell, which was strange. I liked all the kids in the MC, probably even loved them in a familial kind of way, but it wasn’t like this.

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