Tomorrow?

Before I could ask, I was staring at a closed door.

“I like him!” Billie shouted. “He’s nice and he bought me butterflies and flowers!”

I liked him too. In fact, I was back to loving him even though he thought I had my head up my ass.

He wasn’t just a nice guy. He was a really, freaking great one.

When he wasn’t being a jerk or scary, of course.

I was in trouble.

The rest of the evening was taken up with laundry, folding laundry and me trying to get the kids sorted. Mitch bought Billy more than jeans. He bought him three pairs of jeans and also bought him some t-shirts and a baseball mitt. Billie’s flower t-shirt and jeans skirt with cute pink ruffle was only the favorite of the three outfits Mitch bought her. It was her favorite because it was the cutest and girliest but only by a small margin. There were also two more plastic cards filled with girlie hair shit and a tiny, fluffy pink teddy bear.

Yeah, I was back to loving him.

Crap.

It took awhile to get to sleep. Not only because I was used to sleeping alone and having the whole bed to myself. The entire day, and every encounter I’d had with Detective Mitch Lawson, was dancing in my head. These thoughts alternated with Bill threatening me and neither were conducive to peace of mind.

Finally, I slept. Which brought me to now.

I did my bathroom thing, went to the kitchen, made a pot of coffee, had a shower and did my after shower thing. Then I got Billy up so he could take a shower while I did my makeup thing. Then I got Billie up so she could take a shower in my shower while I kept my eye on her and did my hair drying thing. We had a drama when Billie changed her mind about which was her favorite new outfit that she wanted to wear that day. Then she changed it again after she’d made up her mind which necessitated her changing her outfit.

We finally had that sorted and I was in the kitchen, the kids on the stools opposite me with glasses of milk in front of them. I was drinking a cup of coffee that by this time I desperately needed while talking to the kids about what they wanted for breakfast. Breakfast groceries were part of what Mitch bought including pancake mix, eggs, bread and three types of jelly. I was also eyeing the living room which had stacks of kids folded clothing on every surface. Most of it, I’d discovered, didn’t deserve to be laundered because it was worn or stained and should be thrown out. And I was thinking that my being able to be freakishly tidy and having a modicum of peace of mind because I was able to control my surroundings was a thing of the past when there was a knock at the door.

I blinked at the door. I was stuck in my head because I was scared to death about my future, the kids’ future, Bill’s threats and how I was going to clothe, feed and house three humans. Not to mention all things Detective Mitch Lawson. So the knock at the door coming so early in the morning threw me.

It didn’t throw Billie. She jumped off her stool and raced to the door shouting, “I’ll get it!”

“Billie, don’t.” I moved out of the kitchen, taking my coffee cup with me. “Let me check the peephole.”

She was turning the door handle desperately this way and that, ready to welcome whoever was out there wholeheartedly. These efforts were to no avail as the door was locked and chained.

I looked out the peephole and saw Mitch.

Oh God.

His hair was partially wet, the drying ends curling around his ears, neck and collar. I knew he was ready for work because he was wearing a light blue, chambray shirt and a dark, olive green, kickass sports jacket. Detective Mitch Lawson work clothes.

Jeez, he was hot.

“Who is it?” Billie asked.

“It’s Mitch,” I mumbled, gently moving her out of the way and unlocking the door.

“Yippee!” she cried and then shouted to the door, “Hi, Mitch! I’m wearing my new outfit!”

I opened the door to a smiling so much he was nearly laughing Detective Mitch Lawson.

Full on belly whoosh.

“Hey,” I said, standing between the doorframe and the door.

“Hey,” he replied, not standing but moving toward me.

Seeing as I didn’t move, his hand went to my belly at the last minute. He gently shoved me inside as he came inside with me.

“Hey Mitch,” Billy, who’d kept his seat at the bar, called.

“Hey Billy,” Mitch answered, shutting the door behind him. “Did I miss breakfast?” he asked and my lungs seized.

“No!” Billie shouted. “We were just deciding what to have!”

“Eggs,” Mitch decided for everyone and I stood where I was, watching him move into the kitchen. Then I stayed where I was as I watched him move around the kitchen talking to the kids, pouring himself a cup of coffee, opening and closing cupboards, getting stuff out and lastly and most scarily, making himself at home.

Woodenly, I walked to the kitchen, stopped by the end of the counter and asked, “What are you doing?”

He had the eggs, bread and a bowl out and he didn’t even look at me when he replied, “Makin’ breakfast.” I opened my mouth to protest but he kept talking. “Do me a favor, sweetheart, put in some toast.”

My mouth was still open. I started to form words when his beautiful eyes came to me and my breath got caught in my throat.

“What hours do you work today?” he asked.

I blinked then answered, “I’m on late shifts this week. Noon to nine…now, Mitch –”

“I’m takin’ the kids to school,” he announced, cutting me off and looking down at the bowl into which he started cracking eggs. “I gotta talk to the people in the office. I’ll pick them up this afternoon and take them to Ma.”

“Ma?” I breathed and he tossed some eggshells into the sink and looked at me.

“Yeah, my Ma. She works part-time at my sister’s shop. I called her last night. Her schedule is flexible. I’ll pick them up, take them to her place, get them after I’m done at work and I’ll hang here with them until you get home. You’ll need to give me a set of keys.”

I swallowed. Then I whispered, “Keys?”

“Keys,” he nodded, his eyes swept me up and down and then quietly he said, “Baby, toast.”

My body jolted, my gaze slid to the kids who were watching this avidly before I went to the bread, put down my mug and pulled the toaster away from the wall.

Then I pulled myself together and started, “Mitch –”

“You need to talk to your boss,” he told me.