Page 21 of Playing with Fire

“Just finishing these dishes from dinner.” She smiled. “Then I'll be out of your way for the night.”

I should be thankful. Her no longer in my space was what I wanted. What I needed. Right?

So why was I disappointed that she was leaving?

“There's a plate of chicken and green beans in the microwave.” She turned back to her task. “If you want it. Wasn't sure if you ate at the house. I can put it away if not.”

In my rush to get home in case the girls were still up, I’d left without eating dinner at the firehouse. “Thank you.”

She nodded. “You're welcome.”

I stepped up behind her, hitting a button on the microwave over her left shoulder. “Did you eat?”

“Yeah.”

Grabbing the plate from the microwave and a fork from the drawer beside her left hip, I turned and leaned back against the counter. Izzy dried her hands and glanced up at me from under her lashes as I took a bite of the chicken.

“This is good.” I swallowed as I stared at her. “Thank you, Izzy.”

Her cheeks held a tinge of pink. She wore no makeup except whatever made her lips so shiny. Strands of blonde curls cascaded down over each of her breasts and I swallowed hard, pulling my gaze away from her chest and back to her face.

Regardless of my physical attraction to her and my increasingly failed attempts to control it, I couldn't deny she had been a huge asset to my family. I needed to make sure she knew that. “For everything.”

She looked up at me, and I did my best to convey my sincerity and appreciation. The urge to talk to her, ask her about herself, struck me by surprise. But maybe that wouldn't be the worst idea. If I got to know her, if we became friends, I wouldn't have to fight so hard to resist being attracted to her.

A smile edged her lips, and her shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “Just doing my job.”

I cocked a brow at her. “Cooking for me is not your job. “

“Maybe not. But cooking for the girls is. You just got lucky that we had leftovers.”

I chuckled and forked the last bit of green beans into my mouth. “Well, I appreciate it.” I brushed past her and rinsed my plate before putting it in the dishwasher.

“So you have off until Monday?”

I turned to face her, leaning back against the sink. “Yeah. I'm assuming Maggie's PA sent you our schedules?”

“She did. It's very organized. I was impressed.” She folded her arms across her chest, making it hard to not glance down at her tits rising up into the scoop of her tank. “You have the girls until Saturday night. I won't be needed until Monday morning at Maggie's house.”

I nodded. “Yeah, and not sure if Maggie mentioned it, but switching houses is fairly new. We started trying it in January.”

She shook her head. “I don't understand. What did you guys do before?”

“It's called nesting.” I crossed one ankle over the other. “We wanted to make sure both Nikki and Alice were comfortable when we first separated, and we both work weird hours, so it kind of made sense.”

Taking in her furrowed brows, I gathered she still didn't get it.

“Basically, the parents move, not the kids. I built a studio apartment over the garage for myself. Maggie got herself a condo. We took turns being here in the house with the girls.”

“Oh.” She smiled. “I guess that makes sense. So why did you guys decide not to continue it?”

I shifted uncomfortably, not wanting Izzy to think badly of Maggie. We were in a good place and co-parented well as a team. And while it might've been her idea to stop nesting, her reasoning made sense.

“Maggie started seeing someone, and once she thought it was getting serious, she decided it was best to move forward with our daughters going back and forth between our homes. I agreed. Nesting was great to help them transition, but it's not a forever thing.”

She nodded. “The girls seem to be doing okay with it.”

“Yeah, they’ve adjusted well.”

---