Page 31 of Grinchland
His broad shoulders, muscular chest, and abs… I didn’t need to know that he has abs under all of his pretentious suits. Why couldn’t he be anything but perfect? He looked like he was chiseled by the gods.
“Ms. Snow?”
I snapped my gaze up. His eyes were wide and his eyebrows were raised as he stared at me in disbelief.
“Isabelle let me in,” I said as if that was going to justify why I was so obviously ogling him.
He glanced over his shoulder and then turned back to me. “Oh.” He studied me for a moment. “Belly! What did I tell you about answering the door?” And then, as if he suddenly realized that he was standing there shirtless, his smile turned sheepish. “Sorry. Belly spilled pancake mix all over my shirt.” He moved his hands like he was trying to decide if he should cover up or not.
I nodded. “Oh.” I wasn’t sure if I should drop my gaze or keep it focused on Silas. If I looked away, would he think that I was embarrassed? Or if I kept looking at him, would he think that I liked what I was seeing?
This was all too complicated for me, and my brain was short-circuiting, so I just stood there like an idiot. Then I remembered that I was holding Pudgie. “Brought this over,” I said as I leaned forward and set the penguin down next to the front door.
I could feel Silas’s gaze on me, and when I straightened and looked back at him, he startled as if he’d been snapped out of a trance.
“I’ll go get dressed,” he said as he walked forward to the entrance of the staircase and then took the stairs two at a time.
I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just stood there, facing the staircase. My mind instantly went to how I would decorate it. Magical was the only way to describe it.
“Um, can you help Belly clean up in the kitchen?” Silas suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs. His gaze met mine, and all I could do was nod.
Yes. Good. A job. That was what I needed.
“Absolutely,” I said as I kicked off my boots and started to unzip my jacket.
Isabelle and I had cleaned up the spilled pancake mix with paper towels and were in the middle of mopping when Silas joined us. His hair was damp, his face was freshly shaven, and he was wearing a black sweater and dark jeans. I shook my head. I was determined to see him in color before our seven days were over.
He glanced around and noticed that I was watching him. He met my gaze for a moment before he turned his attention to Isabelle. “Looks great, peanut,” he said as he crossed the space between them and planted a kiss on the top of her head.
She paused and then wrinkled her nose. “You smell weird.”
Silas’s cheeks reddened as he glanced over at me. “It’s just my cologne. You’ve smelled it before.” He reached out to tousle her hair, but she dipped and dodged his hand.
Isabelle shook her head. “I never smelt that before in my life,” she said as she swished her hand in front of her nose.
Silas glanced around like he was looking for an out. I couldn’t help but smile. He was embarrassed. Five-year-olds will do that to you. They have a way of making the proudest in society crumble with self-doubt.
“You missed a spot,” he said as he pointed his finger to a spotless section of the kitchen floor.
Isabelle dragged the mop across the floor in a squiggly pattern, cleaning the spot that he’d claimed she’d missed.
“Ms. Snow helped me,” Isabelle said as she glanced back to me and smiled.
Silas looked relieved that we were now officially off the topic of his cologne. “I know,” he said as he glanced over at me once more. Then he mouthed, thank you.
I just smiled and shrugged. “Happy to help.” Then I paused. “Actually, I was hoping it would put me in your good graces.”
Silas eyed me. “What did you have in mind?”
I took a step to the side and motioned with my head for him to follow. Isabelle didn’t seem to notice as she continued drawing with the mop.
“As you know, it’s day two.”
His eyebrows went up, stopping any more of my proposition from flowing. “I didn’t think we’d be doing this on the weekends. You know, with Isabelle being around and all.”
“I was hoping we could take her out with us today.” I nodded discreetly toward Isabelle.
Silas flicked his gaze toward his daughter. “I don’t know,” he said slowly.
