Page 51 of The Baby-whisperer and the Brute
“Yes, you can, Daddy,” Claire said. “You’re an aff-leet. You can do anything.”
“Don’t quit, Daddy,” Skyla pleaded. “You have to try.”
Sully shot me awhat’re you gonna do?look and blew out a long breath. “I’ll try.”
I gave him a tense smile of commiseration. “Good luck.”
He first tried drawing his left foot beneath him, but the yellow row was too close to where his left hand rested on the row of green circles, and his thigh muscles were literally too big to allow his leg to fold beneath him like that.
“Okay, I’m gonna have to spin around and face downward, I think,” he said.
“Remember not to stop touching with your other foot and your hand,” Skyla warned, well versed in the official rules of Twister.
“Got it,” Sully said.
He drew another breath then in one swift move, swung his left leg up and over to the nearest yellow dot, spinning on his right toe and right hand so that he now faced the mat. To his credit, he pulled it off.
Unfortunately, his new position put him directlyoverme. And behind me.
Closebehind me.
So there we were, both of us with our legs spread wide, Sully’s chest pressed against my back, and his pelvis pressed tightly to my backside.
Thisdefinitelyreminded me of what I’d read.
Claire, who was twisted like a little pretzel and looked entirely comfortable anyway, laughed out loud. “Look, Angelina’s giving Daddy a piggyback ride!”
Suddenly the space between our bodies seemed to lessen. There was a distinctive pressure against my bottom. I gasped and dropped to the mat like I’d been shot.
“Oh no, Angelina. You losed.” Claire gave me a look of ultimate sympathy.
“Yep. That’s too bad,” I blurted, scurrying out from beneath Sully and off the mat. “Okay, who wants to play Operation now?”
Chapter Sixteen
Distraction
Sully
I didn’t stick around for the next game, andnotbecause I sucked at Operation—I was the fucking master at extracting that little funny bone without setting off the buzzer.
No, I just needed to escape.
My excuse was that I had to get ready to meet up with Wilder. It was true—I was supposed to meet him at Padraig’s—just not quite this early. The baseball game didn’t start for a while yet.
But I’d changed clothes then practically run out of the house with a quick kiss for Skyla and Claire and barely a glance at Angelina.
Whatthe hellhad I been thinking agreeing to a game of Twister with her? I should have left the instant I saw her in those clingy yoga pants.
Those skin-tight pants might very well have been the straw that broke the camel’s back. Or maybe it was that dry-humping position we were in that had done it.
Either way, I was one miserable broke-back camel.
For the past several weeks I’d been falling harder and faster every day. It had started with attraction, of course. I mean, she was absolutely gorgeous. But it had become so much more than that.
I liked Angelina. I admired her.
And Iwantedher.
