Page 70 of The Baby-whisperer and the Brute
Silently I added,And far fromyou.
I’d need a few days of distance from Angelina to get my head in the right place for the fight. I loved being around her, but I was also aware she made me... soft.
Not in a bad way for everyday life—God knew I had plenty of rough edges that needed softening—but before a bout against arguably the toughest fighter alive today?
No, I couldn’t afford any softness.
“Plus, I thought it would be good for the girls to have a few days to settle back into their old rooms and old routines before school starts, to readjust to how Anouk does things.”
Angelina nodded thoughtfully. “Change can be hard on little ones. I know they’ve been very happy here with you.”
“And withyou.”
She looked away and picked up her nearly empty wine glass, finishing its contents. I didn’t refill it because I knew she wasn’t used to drinking—she’d already had two glasses.
Much more and I’d have to carry her back to the house and tuck her into bed.
On second thought...
I was saved from making averybad decision by the waiter, who returned with a miniature birthday cake ablaze with candles. We both sang the birthday song to Angelina before she fanned out the flames and closed her eyes to make a wish.
When she opened them, she studied the cake. It was decorated with white buttercream frosting and real flowers.
“Edible flowers,” she whispered. “This is beautiful. There’s no way I could eat all this, though.”
“You? That’smypiece,” I joked. “Nah, actually I’m staying off sugar until after the fight. I told them to make it four servings, though, in case you want to share it with Skyla and Claire in the morning—and have a piece for breakfast yourself.”
“You really are the best man I’ve ever known,” she said in a soft voice that brushed over me and raised goosebumps on my neck and arms.
Or “duck balls” as Claire would call them.
The combination of that voice, the look in her eyes, and her utter gorgeousness was causing a reaction below the belt as well.
Which was pointless. Not only was therenochance of having sex with Angelina tonight, but every trainer I’d ever had in my life preached the “no sex in training” gospel.
Definitely not in the week before a fight.
So even if pigs flew and the pool froze over here in August and shebeggedme to make love to her... I couldn’t.
So you can just stand the fuck down, big guy.
I deflected her sweet comment with a joke. “I’d say I’m flattered, but I’m pretty sure I’m theonlyman you’ve ever known.”
Angelina laughed. “True. True.”
Her eyes closed for a long blink before she opened them and absolutely paralyzed me with an intense look. “I guess I got lucky the first time.”
Wait a minute—wasthat... flirting?
Was she trying to tell me something? Had she changed her mind about us?
Or maybe she was tipsier than I realized. I tried to read her eyes, but she turned away and focused on the string quartet.
After a few minutes, another sound caught my notice—a light patter. And then it grew heavier. It was raining.Shit.
The musicians stood and hurried into the pool house, where I assumed they’d left their instrument cases. The catering staff ran for cover as well, joining us under the gazebo.
Angelina looked up at me. “Was there a storm in the forecast?”
