Page 23 of Only Temporary

“Is that part of your job description?” Kellan looks slightly suspicious and rightfully so. It’s not really something I should probably do. I haven’t done it for any other families, but he just looks so lost.

I shrug. “You all were my last visit for the day. I’m off the clock, and I love to cook.”

His brow is still furrowed, but I can see the warring relief there too. I desperately want to help him with this. It’s important to learn how to cook for his family. Totally justified.

I always try to go above and beyond for my families. I want them to thrive, and this is just one way I can do that. Would my boss agree? Probably not, but she’s a little jaded by the years. If I still have the will and the energy to want to go the extra mile, then why not?

“If you’re sure,” he says cautiously, and I can feel Braylen and Kieran watching us curiously.

“I am,” I say with far more confidence than I feel, but I have to help him with this. Anyone who wants to be a good guardian deserves that little bit of extra help. And I wasn’t lying about cooking classes.

The boys head to their rooms, and Kellan shows me into the kitchen, where I look through the fridge for something to make. I see fresh chicken breast and pull it out of the refrigerator, while Kellan leans against the counter, watching me.

I have to look away from him though. I swear looking closely at him is too tempting. Too tempting to wonder what his body would feel like against mine. Too tempting to want him to touch me. To kiss me.

This is so not good. So inappropriate. I quickly look away from him and find a pan so I can show him how to bake simple chicken. I continue to look away as I explain the steps to preparing everything, and I can feel his eyes on me but refuse to look.

“See? Easy.” His scent is strong and masculine, woodsy and sexy as hell as he walks closer to me to observe.

“I swear I’m not that bad. I tried spaghetti but somehow burned the pasta the other day. Okay. I’m really bad at this.” He lets out a self-deprecating chuckle, and I can’t take that, so I do turn and look right into his eyes.

His beautiful, sparkling deep-blue eyes, and it nearly steals my breath. “Uh...”Words. Try some damn words, Phillip.“It’s not difficult to burn pasta. Just try to make sure you have enough water, not too high of heat, and sometimes you can add olive oil to prevent it from sticking.”

He nods his head, his deliciously plump lips parted as he takes the information in. We’re standing too close. I mean, I’m sure it’s not at all too close for him, but for me—I’m having a hard time remaining professional.

I have this strange urge to lean in and lick his neck, breathe him in like a crazy person. So I shuffle backward a little, under the guise of looking for a side dish, to give my brain and my poor disappointed body some room.

I help him prepare a salad and bake some potatoes to go along with the chicken currently cooking in the oven. “See? Nothing to it.”

He rewards me with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. It’s small and a little crooked, but it’s magnificent. “Thank you.”

“Any time.” I barely manage to breathe as I push past him. “I should get going.”

“You don’t want to stay?” His question catches me off guard, and I stop walking suddenly.

“Oh. Um, I can’t.” I really, really can’t. I’ve already crossed the line being here. I know that, but I have to have some sort of boundaries. “Thank you for the offer though.”

Does he look disappointed?

I can’t tell, but his smile seems less real now. Maybe forced? “Okay. I’ll see you the next surprise visit.”

“Can’t wait.” I smile and then stand there, staring at him like a dope before I regain my senses and get the hell out of there.

I’m glad I could help him learn some cooking things, but I know I messed up today, offering to do that.

The biggest problem though...

I know I’m going to do it again.

ELEVEN

“Goddammit, Tatum. We should have had this done already.” I bark, looking over at my best friend from across the hood of a shitty Kia the owner should have given up on years ago.

He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at me, probably waiting for me to apologize because of course, it’s not his fault that we aren’t done yet. But I feel like I have a million things I need to do today, and it’s already almost five.

I drive the kids to school, but thankfully, the bus takes them home after school, so I know they should be home by now and don’t have to worry about that. But since they get out at three, that means they’ve been home alone for two hours, and God knows if they’ve killed each other yet. The house is too small.

All they do is bicker, and it’s driving me up the fucking wall. It hasn’t even been a week. Today was their first day of school, and I wanted to prepare a decent meal for them.

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