Falling for Mr. Wrong(15)



Harper groaned. “I’d think that would be funnier if it wasn’t so unfunny, you know.”

“Oh, this is actually so very entertaining. I am quite excited to watch this unfold from afar. I can’t wait to hear what happens next.”

“Are you suggesting there should be a next?”

“I’m saying there damn well better be because I want to hear every little bit about it.”

“Trust me, the only thing that might happen is me taking advantage of the proximity of his very familiar penis.”

“Which was as good as ever, I presume?”

Harper let out a little moan. “Better, unfortunately.”

She could hear her friend clapping in the background. “Oh, Harper. Hurray. Yes, yes, you need to take as much advantage of that thing as possible. And keep me posted on your progress.”

“For that matter, the only progress that might happen is I might be able to catch up on some long-lost sexual satisfaction.”

“Baby steps, my dear. Baby steps.”

Baby steps, indeed. Harper resolved to make room for some Harper time. And if getting with Noah helped in that regard, well, then, it would have to suffice. Maybe she’d simply suffer through sex with Noah for the cause.





Chapter Eleven


Noah had been promising his brother he’d babysit for his nephew for months now, and Matthew had cashed in at last.

“Dude, thanks for taking Tyler for the night,” Matt said as he handed a list of childcare instructions that looked more like a book manuscript it was so long and involved.

Noah held the multipage, stapled document aloft, dramatically leafing through the pages. “Is there a character arc in this? Obviously Tyler’s our protagonist, but who’s the antagonist?”

Matt grinned. “You, naturally.”

“I would argue that as the parent you’d be the obvious foil for our hero.”

“Yeah, but I’m the one who saves him from any and all disasters,” Matt’s wife Katie said, leaning in to kiss her brother-in-law hello on the cheek. “And if there are any disasters that befall him while we’re out to dinner, you have me to answer to.” She aimed her thumb at her chest. “And I can be a mean sonofabitch when it comes to my son.”

Noah patted Katie on the back. “Rest assured, the only danger that could befall Tyler might be a bit of a sugar buzz.” He pointed to a Ziploc bag he’d set on the counter. “Chocolate-chip cookies. Made them myself.”

Katie smiled. “I know you were an absentee uncle for a long time, and you’re doing a fine job of making up for lost time. But consider yourself warned: kids and sugar at bedtime is never a good combination.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I might well live to regret it, but the good news is I get to go home and have a good night’s sleep either way.”

She jokingly punched him on the arm. “And Matt and I might just decide to find a hotel room for the night and leave you to your own devices. Now play nicely, you two.” She pointed to her little boy, who had a mess of spaghetti sauce smeared all over his mouth and random noodles strewn around the table and on his lap. “And Uncle Noah’s going to give you a nice, warm bath before bedtime, so you’re shiny and clean. Love you, baby doll!” She gave her son a bunch of kisses all over his face, wiped the sauce she picked up off her own face, and they waved goodbye.

Noah sat down next to his nephew. “So, kiddo. You’re doing a bang-up job of that meal. You care to share any with your super hungry uncle?”

“No fork,” the boy said.

“No problem,” Noah said. “That’s what we have hands for.” He reached over and scooped up pasta with his fingers and shoved it into his mouth. The child giggled.

“Mommy says no hands,” he said. But he dropped his fork on the ground and didn’t bother to pick it up, instead grabbing a small fistful of noodles and forcing them into his mouth.

Noah chewed his noodles then opened his mouth wide. “Say ah!”

Tyler belly laughed hard, and it reminded Tyler what a prick he was not being there for this adorable little boy for all those years.

Of course his nephew mimicked him, and they both made nom-nom sounds as they ate like cavemen for the rest of the meal.

After they’d finished, Noah took a look at the table and floor beneath them. “Gah!” he said. “Uncle Noah is a pig!” He made oinking sounds and pushed his nose up, and the boy joined in the fun until he fell into Noah’s lap laughing.

“What say we get this cleaned up and then we go right to dessert?” He lifted his brow. “There’s cookies and ice cream in your future if you’ll help me.”

The two carried their dishes to the kitchen, and Noah gave Tyler a sponge to ostensibly wipe up after himself. It worked about as well as he expected, but he figured it was good training so let it go at that.

He grabbed the ice cream from the freezer and filled two bowls, topping each one with a cookie. “Oh,” he said, holding up a finger. “I almost forgot.” He walked toward the refrigerator, opening the door and pulling out a can of whipped cream. He swirled it on top of each cookie to the boy’s wide-eyed joy.

“More!” he said.

“More whipped cream?”

“Yes!” He nodded his head vigorously.

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