Page 72 of Outlaw Heartstrings
After dinner and a card game that Jagger teaches me, my son runs off to brush his teeth. (Yes—he’s my son, dammit. No stupid DNA test is going to tell me otherwise.)
I notice that the little guy doesn’t even wait to be told. I realized since day one that Alba has been doing a great job raising him, because damn, I sure was never that well-behaved. The more I hang around, the more apparent it becomes how amazing Alba Anderson is.
I’m sitting in Jagger’s room now, reading him a bedtime story while Alba cleans up the kitchen.
I seriously tried to tell her I would take care of it—hell, I’m the one who made the mess—but Alba insisted. So we made a deal; I handle bedtime while she handles the kitchen.
Teamwork for the win.
Besides, I’d never turn down some quality time with Jagger. I freaking love my kid. I love teaching him new things. But I’m discovering that I also learn so much from the little guy whenever we spend time together.
Alba just finished putting the last of the leftovers inside her fridge when I stroll back into the kitchen. Skirting around the spot she just finished mopping, I open the oven and snatch the piece of apple pie that was leftover from dinner.
I grab two clean forks and Alba’s hand, forcing her to abandon the mop in the middle of the kitchen floor. She suppresses a giggle as I pull her toward the front door.
“Want to take this outside and talk?” I ask as I move toward the porch, her hand still clasped in mine.
She chuckles, swiping the blanket off her couch as she follows after me. “Do I have a choice?”
“Always.”
“Well, you’re holding half an apple pie in your hand, so obviously, this is coercion,” Alba shoots back, and I’m captivated by the playful twinkle in her eye.God—she’s so beautiful.
We exit the front door and take up the same spots on the porch as the other night. I hand her a fork, and we both dive in, eating straight out of the pie tin. For a while, we talk and laugh and catch up, with the swaying leaves of the big oak tree acting as our privacy screen against the world.
These quiet, stolen moments are becoming my favorite parts of the day. Somehow, I already see how this could become our routine. Our thing.It would be way too damn easy to get used to evenings like this.
I listen to the story she’s telling me now, unable to look away. Somewhere between Alba talking about the naughty toys she found at her cleaning job and about the nude garden gnome that her neighbor put in their yard, it hits me.
I have amajorcrush on my son’s aunt.
Fuck.
“What?” Alba asks, interrupting her own story. By theway she’s frowning at me, I’m guessing she caught me staring.
“N-Nothing.” I give my head a slight shake.
She jabs me in the bicep. “Stop lying to me, Mr. Tower. Come on. Tell me. What are you thinking right now?”
On a sigh, I bring my gaze back to her face, letting my eyes roam over every corner. “That you’re pretty. That’s all.”
Alba lets out a snort. “Easton Raines, we both know there’s nothing pretty about spending an evening cleaning other people’s toilets.”
I’m shaking my head again, more vigorously this time. It’s hard to follow the conversation when I’m sitting this close to her and staring into those green eyes.
“That’s just…I’m...Sorry, I’m trying to…” I pause to take a deep breath. “I can’t help it…I really can’t.”
“You can’t what?” She laughs nervously.
“You’re absolutely beautiful, Tiny Tiger. And I have a feeling you haven’t heard that nearly enough over the past nine years. That sort of fucks with my head.”
“Wow,” she deadpans, her eyes dimming with embarrassment. “I shouldn’t have opened my big mouth. I told you I’m a virgin, and now you’re looking at me like I’m some poor charity case.” She wraps her blanket tighter around herself as if for protection.
I scoff. “Are you freaking blind, woman?”
In my eyes, Alba is anything but a charity case. She’s the ultimate temptation. She’s gorgeous. Smart. Funny. Kind.Andshe loves my child the way a mother should. It’s quite the fucking combo, if you ask me.
“Ugh,” she groans. “Would you stop flirting with me? We’re just friends, and I swear, Easton, I’m fine. Being single isn’t so bad. I’ve been living vicariously through my romancebooks.” Then she mumbles something else, it sounds an awful lot like she mentions her vibrator.
