Page 28 of Mr. Wrong
“Can you really tell time?” I ask her because I refuse to get sucked into a losing argument with a six-year-old.
She purses her lips together and tilts her head. “Sorta,” she says with a shrug. I know what time Uncle Lex gets here to make me breakfast in the morning and whenPaw Patrolcomes on Nickelodeon—oh, and I know when Greta comes to tuck me in, but that’s it. But Icanwrite my name—I make really good Ss.”
No mention of her father.
I’m not sure if that pisses me off or if it makes me want to cry.
“Did my dad ask you on a date?” She says it to the catalog in front of her, her little fingers turning down the corners of the pages when she sees something she likes, like I showed her. “I say that’s what you guys were talking about outside but Uncle Lex said it wasn’t.”
I think about what he said to me after I came inside. His pointed questions and remarks about why I’m here. Whether or not I have some sort of deep-seated infatuation with his movie star brother. “No.” I shake my head, opening the kitchen cabinet over the coffee pot in hopes of finding a proper cup. “Your dad is my boss. He didn’t ask me out on a date,” I tell her, pulling a coffee cup from the shelf and reaching for the carafe tucked into the coffeemaker to pour myself a cup. I’m still hungry. Maybe caffeine will curb the growling beast in my stomach. Probably not, but it’s either this or I dig through the trash for cold pancakes.
“Well,” she says when I don’t elaborate. “What did you talk about then?”
I turn and cross the short distance between the sink and the kitchen island she’s sitting at so I can look at her. “We talked about your Uncle Lex,” I say, deciding to tell her the truth because if he’s serious about trying to get me fired, I need to be as honest with her as I can. “I told your dad that I thought it was a good idea for Lex to keep spending time with you. That he’s important to you, and you need him.”
She looks skeptical. “Really?”
“Really.” I nod, lifting my cup to my mouth to take a sip. Not that it did me any good. All I got was a brusqueMs. Pierceand an exasperatedwhy are we talking about this?for my trouble.
The back door opens and both men walk in, looking tense and angry. As soon as they see Cassie sitting at the counter, the tension between them evaporates.
“Hey, Uncle Killian,” Cassie crows from her perch. “I saidshitake mushroomsthis morning.”
Uncle?
“Nice.” The IT geek/Navy SEAL holds up his fist and Cassie gives it a bump with her own. “I haven’t had a chance to work it into a conversation yet.”
“Well, that’s because you sayshitall the time instead of—” Cassie slaps a hand over her mouth and her big blue eyes go so round and wide they look like they’re about to fall out of her head. “Sorry.” Her muffled apology leaks through her tiny fingers, her gaze and apology aimed at Lex.
“That’s two, Cass.” He shakes his head, reaching around Killian to lift her off her stool. “You know what happens if you get to number three.” He sets her on her feet and makes a valiant effort at looking stern.
She nods, her expression grave. “No television.”
Lex confirms her punishment with a curt nod. “No television.”
“I won’t do it again.” She crosses her index finger over her heart. “It’sshitake mushroomsandGod bless Americafrom now on. Promise.”
“Okay.” Lex nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Get your suit on. I’m going to take you swimming while Killian gets Ellenore set up with her passcode and prints.”
Lecture forgotten, Cassie lets out a whoop and is up the stairs in a flash.
Twenty
Lex
Killian said exactlywhat I knew he’d say when he realizedMs. Pierce,Cassie’s New TutorandThe Woman I Brought Homewere the same person.
“Are you out of your goddamned mind?” He doesn’t yell. Doesn’t have to. He has no trouble conveying his emotions without shouting. “The bar slut you brought home last night isCassie’s new teacher.”
“Number one—I had no idea who she was when I met her.” I take a half step in his direction, closing the distance between us just enough to let him know I mean it. “And two—don’tevertalk about her like that again.” The last of it is delivered in a nasty, almost feral snarl, born of some insane sort of reflex to protect her. A reflex that’s at complete odds with the fact that I just told her I was going to do everything in my power to get her fired and tossed out on her ass. It occurs to me that it’s not Killian that Ellenore needs protection from.
It’s me.
“Yeah?” He laughs at me and shakes his head. “Or what?”
“Let’s be honest,” I tell him, giving him awho gives a fuckgrin, “You and I ever squared up, you’d probably put me in the hospital—but you’d walk with a limp for the rest of your fucking life.” I cock my head and show him my hands. “So, I guess all that’s left is for you to decide if running your mouth is worth it.”
He glares at me for a second, probably trying to figure out how serious I am about what I’m saying. Finally, his shoulders sag and he swipes a hand over his face. “Shit, Lex—youlikeher.” He says it like I’ve disappointed him somehow. “Her. There are roughly two million women in this town and you fall forher.”
