The Lemon Sisters (Wildstone #3)(48)

With the cereal.

Ass.

“What’s with you two?” Linc asked.

“Nothing.”

“Want to try that again and make me believe it?”

“Nope.”

Linc took that in stride in the way only a man who couldn’t multitask would. “I know I can fumble my way through taking care of my kids,” he said, “but I don’t know what to do for Mindy. Help?”

“I think maybe you’re already starting by just being here for her.”

“That can’t possibly be enough. If you were me, what else would you do?”

“I’d make her waffles.”

“Is that because Garrett just stole back his breakfast and you want waffles?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “But also because Mindy loves waffles and rarely lets herself have them. But you should also make pancakes because, well, you’ve met her. She needs choices.”

“Good idea. And here.” He handed her a key.

“What’s this?”

“The key to the guesthouse. Now that I’m back, I’ll take the kid watch. You don’t need to be woken in the middle of the night. And you’ll have more privacy.”

She took the key because she was done with the living room floor. “It’ll only be a few days,” she repeated. “At the most. You’re going to get it together and keep it together, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He slung an arm around her neck and brushed a kiss to her temple. “But you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. We miss you. I hope you know that.”

She’d gotten by for years now because she’d cut ties to her emotions. But those emotions were suddenly spreading through her like wildfire, going after her heartstrings.

Stupid heartstrings.

She lugged her backpack and the ridiculously huge duffel Mindy had packed for her out to the guesthouse and stood in the doorway. “Guesthouse” was a fancy way to say “pool house.” And since it was filled with crap, it was really just a closet.

But it was all hers, all 250 square feet, including the tiny bathroom and kitchenette. She’d take it just to escape the insanity of the big house. Dropping her stuff, she moved to the far wall. It was all windows, and that’s where she discovered an unexpected bonus.

A direct view into Garrett’s kitchen.

And it was like Christmas and her birthday all in one, because he was currently shirtless and sweaty and doing pull-ups in the doorway. Her mouth went dry and her body tingled, both of which were majorly annoying. But damn, she missed intimacy. Or at least the illusion of it. She wanted a man’s hands on her. She wanted to feel a warm, hard body against hers and have it take her outside herself, if only for just a little while.

The thought had her aching. Shaking her head, she pulled the shades down and stripped for a shower. Only problem: The water didn’t get hot. Or even lukewarm. She waited a few more minutes to be sure, but nope. Just icy-cold water. She could handle a whole hell of a lot of things, and had, but a cold shower wasn’t going to be one of them.

With a sigh, she wrapped herself in a towel. Going back to the big house to shower meant joining the circus, and she needed a few minutes to herself. Out the window, she saw Garrett crossing the yard. He’d dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, a tool belt strapped low on his hips, looking better than any man had a right to look. He went into Mindy’s house.

Brooke took a good look at Garrett’s place. She’d bet her last dollar he had hot water. And as a bonus, his house was empty . . . Grabbing her duffel bag, she slung it over her shoulder and stepped outside, looking right and then left to make sure the coast was clear before sprinting barefoot across the yard.

Garrett did indeed have hot water. In fact, his shower was heavenly. She used his soap, which turned out to be a mistake because now she smelled like him, meaning sexy as hell. Just pressing her nose to her own arm nearly gave her an orgasm. Dammit. She turned off the water and had to open the door to clear the steam. When she could see, she nearly swallowed her tongue.

Garrett was sprawled out on his bed, hands behind his head, boots crossed.

She held on to her towel and stared at him. “What the actual hell?”

“Right back at you, Goldilocks.”

“I needed hot water.” She grimaced. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked.”

He waved a hand, like, Mi casa es su casa . . .

So she could use his house, but not his body. Or his heart. Check. “What made you come back?”

“I was looking out Mindy and Linc’s bathroom window when you did your cat burglar imitation.”

So much for stealth. “Go back to work,” she said. “I’ve got to get dressed, and then I’ll get out of your space.” She dropped her duffel bag on the bed, but he didn’t move. She raised a brow.

“I won’t look,” he said, and closed his eyes.

She did some mental knuckle cracking. He’d seen it all before, of course, but she hadn’t been mad at them both at the time. And she was mad at them both. She was mad at herself for caring and at him for making her care. But screw it. If he wasn’t into her, it didn’t matter, right? So she dropped the towel.

At a low, rough male sound, she glanced up and found Garrett’s eyes open and on her. “Hey,” she said, scrambling to wrap the towel around herself. “You said you wouldn’t look!”