The Cad and the Co-Ed Page 72

I knew Josey didn’t see me, not truly. Best-case scenario, she saw a guy who worked hard on his body. Worst-case scenario, she saw money. I used to eat up that kind of attention. Not only that, I used to take advantage of it.

I blinked out of my thoughts and returned my attention to Eilish. She was still looking at me like she wanted to do naughty things with me. Huh. Maybe looking good for her didn’t require a shower, a shave, and a sharp suit. Maybe she liked me just as well in a dirty rugby shirt, scrum shorts, muddy boots, and a layer of sweat. The way she swayed toward me seemed to confirm it.

“How’s Patrick been?” I asked throatily. Maybe discussing our son would help me behave, because I was two seconds away from pushing her up against the wall.

She swallowed, her voice equally rough. “He’s good. He keeps asking about you.”

My heart gave one hard thump and my lungs filled with air, glancing at the wall over her shoulder.

I was constantly eager to know how he was doing, and the fact that he’d asked after me personally got my thoughts all twisted up. It was like there was a string tied around my heart and I had this need to know he was happy and safe at all times. The scary thing was, now that I knew he existed I felt like it was always going to be this way, whether he was four or forty.

“Yeah?” I asked, bringing my attention back to Eilish.

“Yeah. He thinks you’re hilarious. He keeps talking about how you did this trick with your thumb to make it look like you’d cut it off.”

I smiled fondly. “Most kids find that scary. But for some reason our boy thinks it’s the funniest thing ever.”

Something flickered in her eyes when I said “our boy”—something warm—and suddenly, I wanted to fuck her.

What was I thinking? I always wanted to fuck her. But now, right now, an urgent pounding at the base of my skull made it hard to think.

“He’s something else.” She chuckled, forcing my thoughts back to the conversation. “Nothing fazes him,” she continued. “I left him alone in Sean’s bedroom once and came back twenty minutes later to find he’d been climbing to the top of the wardrobe and dive-bombing onto the bed.”

I laughed loudly. “Are you serious?”

She nodded. “Yes, I swear to God, I almost had a heart attack. He wasn’t allowed sweets for two weeks after that.”

“Maybe we’ve got ourselves a little stuntman in the making, huh?”

Eilish shuddered. “Don’t say that. I’m not sure my heart could handle it.”

I reached out and touched her shoulder. “Nah, he’s just a little crazy, I guess. Gets it from me. I was a hell-raiser when I was a kid.”

Her gaze wandered over me, her voice quieter now. “I bet you were.”

I stared at her, stared until something passed between us, something heavy and needful. I cleared my throat and stepped away.

“I better go shower. Want to meet me out front in half an hour?”

“Sure. I have to go freshen up and call the babysitter to check in on Patrick,” she said and then paused, biting her lip. “By the way, do you want to tell me where we’re going? I have no idea what to wear.”

“Something comfortable. Nothing fancy.”

“You do realize that makes me more nervous than if you’d told me to dress fancy, right? I don’t know how to be outdoorsy. At. All. Just giving you fair warning.”

“Stop worrying. I promise you’re going to enjoy yourself.”

She narrowed her gaze but I could tell she wanted to smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”

***

Half an hour later, I was showered, dressed, and standing by my car, waiting for Eilish. She emerged from the building in boots, a jacket, and leggings that molded to every inch of her long, sexy legs. I could barely keep the grin off my face as she walked toward me, a rush of adrenaline followed, knowing I had her all to myself for the rest of the day.

Not touching her is going to be torture.

“You look gorgeous. Hop in,” I said and opened the door for her. She flushed a little at the compliment, and I went around to get in the driver’s side.

“Did you talk to Patrick?” I asked as we buckled our seatbelts.

Eilish nodded. “Yeah. He’s fine. Watching an episode of Bob the Builder.”

“I need to get to know what he likes. Buy him some stuff.”

“Believe me, Sean spoils him enough. He has so many toys I’m running out of places to store them.”

“Huh. How about I get some new storage then? Building furniture has actually become a bit of a hobby of mine. I made this giant set of shelves for my living room last week.”

Eilish shot me a funny look but didn’t say anything.

I glanced between her and the road. “What? What’s that look for?”

She shrugged. “It’s just, something weird about me. I love assembling furniture, organizing spaces. It’s like meditating. I love it.”

“Yeah? We should build something together sometime,” I said in a low voice.

She looked embarrassed, like I’d just suggested mutual masturbation. Although that was something I wouldn’t mind trying sometime, too.

“You honestly don’t have to buy us anything. Just being there for Patrick, spending time with him, is enough. He really likes you.”

“I really like him. Actually, I love him.”

“I know you do,” Eilish replied quietly. The statement surprised me.

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