Flirting With Disaster (15 page)

She exhaled and pushed that
worry to the back of her mind. It was her
day off
and she needed one. Six of
the cars were running again, and three looked spit shined. Whatever
time she wasn't spending with Dane was spent at her shop with her
brother.

Pierce had packed up, moved to a hotel and
driven into town. She never asked him why, but then again, he
hadn't been at her house the first time Dane stayed over. She could
guess he used the spare key, walked in, saw her and Dane's clothes
strewn all over the living room floor and promptly turned around to
find other lodging.

And here she was, babysitting with him.

Dane strolled into her
kitchen as though it were his. The dark browns, deep mauves and
golds complimented him or maybe vice versa. The moment felt so
natural, so different than just a month before. Her life was
unrecognizable. The fear she ignored flared back up again.
What the hell was she doing?

She pursed her lips, taking in the kid. “You
look like a booger digger. Let's wash our hands.”

Jon looked more like his mom than his dad so
when his eyes rounded, she recognized Naomi in the small
expression. The little boy said, “That's nasties.”

She leaned forward and whispered, “Only if
you eat them.

He giggled. “I don't eat them.”

She gasped. “I knew it. Booger digger.”

He kicked his feet and that just made her
smile. Dane moved beside her and asked, “Need some help?”

“
I'll get our hands washed
up, make sure he uses the restroom. Can you get all the ingredients
and things out?”

He looked at Jon again and looked as wary as
the boy did. “Sure.”

She narrowed her gaze at his response. “Do
kids make you nervous?”

His brows rose before he sighed. “Yes.”

Brooke glanced at Jon. “Are you scary?”

The little boy put his hands above his head
and roared.

She met Dane's gaze who was smiling at Jon.
“I guess you're right. Be very afraid.”

She picked him up, did another twirl that
elicited a giggle. When they returned to the kitchen, Dane had
lined up everything she needed to make cookies from scratch. She
handed Jon the measuring cup, stood behind him on the chair and
then watched him make a complete mess while trying to measure
flour.

Dane leaned against the island, his hands
clasped in front of him, his phone near his elbow. She opened her
mouth to ask about his fear of children and realized how that
question might sound—like she wanted to know if he would want kids
with her. Dane cocked his head to the side, observant as usual and
catching onto whatever insecurity she wanted to hide from him.

She shook her head. They were dating.
Emphasis on dating. Talking about children, even flirting with the
subject, seemed like a big deal. Not just a relationship but
skipping straight to a future with them and adding children.

He wouldn't mind if she’d ask, Brooke knew.
He'd told her that's what he wanted, but her own doubts kept her
from taking that step with him. Being with him made her—scared her.
Scared her shitless, and she didn't know how to navigate between
keeping things light between them and losing herself in him.

Maybe it showed on her face because he said,
“I've never been around any.” His gaze stayed on her face, reading
her reaction.

She had a love-hate relationship with how he
managed to cut to the heart of anything. “I guess it was an obvious
question.”

It wasn’t the first time they’d hit on a
precarious subject. She wanted to know more and refused to ask.
Because she knew Dane, she could guess he wanted to tell her more
but refused to answer on principle. They were still fighting,
arguing, but most of those heated exchanges were silent and
happened in a blink of an eye.

Jon managed to get half a cup of flour into
the measuring cup. The rest was on his clothes, hands and the
island. Brooke laughed. “Naomi will have a fit if she saw him
covered in flour like this. I'm going to have to wash his clothes
to hide the evidence.”

Dane sighed. “You seem good with kids,
Brooke.”

Smooth. He was putting the ball back in her
court, making her answer a non-question. “He likes me because I
help him rot his teeth. I don't think that same tactic would work
with...my kids.”

Dane reached forward, offered his hand to
Jon, and the boy handed him the measuring cup. He held it up to
draw the toddler's attention and dipped it into the flour. When
Dane was sure the little boy was still watching, he brushed off the
excess.

Jon's eyes brightened as he grinned. “Thank
you.”

He looked back at Brooke, a smile tugging at
his lips. “I can see the appeal of having kids.

Dane wanted children. Brooke’s stomach
fluttered and her hold tightened on Jon. If they were normal
people, maybe they could have just stated one day in the future
they'd like to have kids. But that was too optimistic of a
conversation for either of them. They'd been heading down this road
for a year, and had finally reached dating.

Fighting was their first, real form of
foreplay. She had looked forward to it, she could admit that now.
So, God, they were so screwed up and that worried her to no
end.

Dane's phone buzzed at his elbow. He spared
it a second of his attention, sighed, and looked back at them. It
buzzed again, but this time he didn't look.

She found that reaction curious. “You can
answer that if you need to.”

He shook his head. “First Reid then Tate.
They like to tag team.”

She nodded, seeing the full picture. “A
boy's night out. You said no?”

A smile showed in his eyes. “More important
things came up.” He put emphasis on the last word.

She snorted at the joke. She had no hold on
him, no right to his time. They were dating. It was in the
boundaries she drew in the line between them. No way to get her
hopes up about some fairy tale she used to believe in. No way to
forget her own comfort zone. As long as she didn't put a claim on
him, he could never do it to her.

“
Brooke.”

A shiver went down her spine. She could
always hear the way he had growled her name their first time
together. She opened and closed her hand to steady the tremble.

“
Dane.” After he laughed,
she added, “I can guess Reid and Tate started laying in on you
about spending all your time with me.”

“
Something like
that.”

Jon picked up the chocolate chips and handed
them to her. She ripped open the bag, and handed him some. He
shoved them all in his mouth.

“
I have company if you want
to go.” She gave Jon another handful and again he stuffed them into
his mouth. She ate some too. “He's gorgeous, he makes me laugh, and
I'm baking him cookies.” She dropped some chips into Dane's
outstretched hand.

He chewed on them, his gaze narrowed on her.
“Are your friends laying in on you about spending all your time
with me?”

She laughed because they were. She finally
put some chips into the mixing bowl. “I'm just saying, seeing as
how our plans for the night are waylaid, you can have fun with the
boys.”

“
Brooke,” he said again,
this time his voice low. He sounded...irritated. “If I wanted to
spend time with them, that's where I'd be. I thought we talked
about this.”

Her stomach clenched, because they had, but
that fear had crawled into her heart

Jon looked at her and that was the only
reason she swallowed the choice curse word. “More chips?” she
asked.

“
Yes!”

She placed a kiss on his forehead and gave
him another handful. Dane was watching her, his jaw taut. She
sighed because she knew that expression. “You choose now to have
this argument?” she asked.

“
We've been avoiding
it.”

She couldn't say that was a
lie. “
He
,” she
referred to Jon,
“has sat through too many
as is. Can you hold him while I do the eggs?”

“
Slick way to avoid it,” he
said and reached out for the toddler. He held him close to his
chest. Jon just looked at him, but he didn't cry. Then his small
fingers touched Dane's five o'clock shadow along his
jaw.

Dane smiled. “One day you'll have one of
these things.” He lifted his chin and pointed to his Adam's apple.
“One of these, too.”

She added the rest of the wet ingredients
and began to stir, watching the two males bond over little things.
Did her heart flutter? Yes. Nothing was sexier than a man holding a
child. He may have been scared or nervous, but the more he just
talked to Jon, his posture relaxed. He kept the boy busy as she
laid out the dough on the sheets. He never left the room, and his
voice soothed her as much as it did the toddler.

Could she lie to herself anymore about how
she felt about Dane? Yes. She could, but what would be the point?
She had fallen for him. He'd gotten under her skin and then deep in
her bones. And it scared the shit out of her. She was just waiting
for the other shoe to drop. So sure the heartbreak was just around
the corner. So sure she'd wake up and not even recognize the woman
she'd become.

After she wiped everything down and had the
cookies in the stove, she went to Dane and put out her hands for a
handoff. He smiled at her and shook his head. She crossed her arms
over her stomach because the butterflies flapping around refused to
die. The bastards.

She was trying to play it cool and that
feeling did not help. “He probably has some trucks or toys in his
baby bag.”

Dane's phone vibrated on the island. He
sighed and answered. “You guys don't know when to give up, do
you?”

He snorted at the reply while trying to
juggle Jon and the phone. “Ball and chain?” He scoffed. “You're the
one to talk.”

A stone lodged in her stomach.

Dane's gaze narrowed on her, a question
clear in his eyes. His focus went back to the phone. “I can't even
insult you properly. I have a toddler's ears listening in.”

He laughed again at something Tate or Reid
said. Jon reached for the phone, Dane pulled his head back and then
did an abrupt handoff before walking down the hall to finish his
conversation.

Brook glanced down at the boy. His bottom
lip pushed out on a small pout. “Right? We've been dismissed.”

A month ago you would have pointed it
out.

“
Dismish.”

She shushed him having forgotten that about
toddlers. They liked to repeat. “Let's go check on the cookies for
no good reason.”

“
I like
cookies.”

She hugged him because his answer was so
pure and honest. It sort of made sense why Naomi wasn't bitter.
Yes, Brooke had seen Jon act a holy terror. When he had, she
usually made the sign of the cross over her uterus. But right now,
just being with a sweet kid had dulled her unease. Looking into his
innocent face put into perspective why parents would grit their
teeth and not break up a marriage. She wanted to say something
biting to Dane for practically tossing him into her arms, but it
didn't matter. There were chocolate chip cookies to stalk and the
prospect of watching Jon's face when she pulled them out of the
oven.

She made her way deeper into the kitchen,
with the child on her hip. The room had warmed from the oven. She
flicked a switch by the back door to turn on the ceiling fan.
Moving to the stove, she pushed the oven light on and looked.

“
Almost done,” she said.
“You want them sort of gooey in the middle, because once they cool,
they are cooked but soft.”

He nodded as though what she said made
complete sense. Dane's voice filtered through the hallway. “Hell
no. You know how women are. Something like that won't stay a
secret.”

Her jaw clenched, but she sucked in a
calming breath. She took another when Dane laughed hard. His voice
lowered, but sounded closer than before. He poked his head into the
kitchen.

“
Can you make me a
sandwich?” He didn't bother to linger at the doorway before he
headed back to the hallway.

She glanced at Jon, her blood started to
boil in her head. It made her dizzy trying to hold back the spurt
of anger. She inhaled again, held the breath and pushed it out.
Brooke told herself she was overreacting. She was being overly
sensitive. She would make everyone a sandwich, because she was
hungry too, and she'd forgotten to ask when was the last time Jon
ate.

You know how women
are
.

A month ago, before she fancied herself
falling in love, she'd have ripped him a new asshole. But now...she
was swallowing it down. She took in another breath and it didn't
tame her anger at herself or Dane, at all.

*****

Jon drooled on his shoulder, letting out
small snores that were cute and made Dane feel warm. He settled
deeper on the couch, stretched out his arm to touch Brooke, but she
had scooted farther down the couch during the movie. His temper
sparked to life.

Dane had noticed the distinctive chill after
he ended his call with Tate. He waltzed into the kitchen to see
Brooke had made sandwiches for dinner. They had sat at her table
like a pretend family and it would have been perfection, what most
of the night should have been, if not for the strained
undertone.

The underlying tension made
his shoulders tight and reminded him too much of being in the same
house with his ex when she was
displeased
. She never bothered to say
why she was pissed. He was supposed to guess or lay out a blanket
apology for being an inconvenience in her life. It was a passive
aggressive mind fuck that he hated.