Shameless(19)

Big, brooding tattooed biker snuggling his baby niece…

Well, that did the trick. I’m warm. All over.

It’s no contest. If Isabella was his, he’d be the hottest dad ever.



Once I finish cleaning the barn, I take a deep breath and head for the house.

My cheeks warm at the thought of facing Brady this morning. If I’m lucky, he and Bella are still sleeping.

A loud squeal from the kitchen squashes that thought. As I pass the box of kittens on the enclosed back porch, I peek in and find them snuggled against Bandit. A sleepy furry face peers up at me.

“I’ll grab your breakfast,” I whisper and pat his little head.

After washing my hands in the bathroom, I walk hesitantly into the kitchen. Isabella is seated in her high chair and is busy smashing slices of banana all over herself. I chuckle… until I look up and find Brady standing shirtless at the sink.

He’s only wearing some black track pants. Some thin track pants. I may have already seen him in his boxers, but seriously, this never gets old.

The ability to speak leaves me as my eyes travel up. A dark treasure trail. That v-cut leading to a six pack. More muscles. Tattoos. A knowing grin.

Shit.

“See something you like?” He smirks.

I force a bland expression despite the flush in my cheeks. “I usually wait until after breakfast to throw money at strippers, but if you can’t help but rip your clothes off around me, I can go look for some singles.”

He laughs so loudly, Isabella jumps in her seat.

Shaking his head, he turns back to the sink where I realize he’s washing off his shirt, likely another casualty from trying to feed the baby.

Calling over his shoulder, he says, “I didn’t know what you fed her in the morning, but I thought bananas and a handful of that baby mush stuff were a safe place to start.” He lifts a bottle from a container of water and turns toward me. “I assume she also gets one of these like she did at bedtime?” He shakes it, drips a few drops on his wrist and then licks it off. He definitely listened to my directions last night, except…

It’s my turn to laugh. “How’d that taste?”

“Not bad. I don’t know why I had the impression that formula tasted rank.”

“That’s not formula, Brady. That’s breast milk.”

He stiffens, his eyes wide with horror, before he leans over the sink and spits. After swishing some water in his mouth and spitting it out, he turns to me. “What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me?”

I snort. “I didn’t think you were gonna taste it.”

He runs his hands through his thick hair, which points in a million different directions. “Jesus Christ, Kat. You should warn a guy.”

“Sorry.” I grab my stomach, which hurts at this point because I’m still laughing.

“So it’s not…” He points at my chest. “This doesn’t belong to…” He starts waving the milk at me.

“No, weirdo. I’m not lactating.” I laugh harder.

Swear to God, his face turns red. “No, of course not. I just… I just… I don’t know what I’m thinking.”

I pat his hard bicep.

Focus, Katherine.

Peering up at him, I smile. “C’mon, muscles. Go put on some clothes so a girl can concentrate.”

Nudging him over, I pour two cups of coffee. His footsteps fall away as he heads back to the office. When he returns a minute later, he’s wearing a black t-shirt that molds to his body and makes those tattoos stand out even more.

Motioning toward the bottle, I explain. “That’s frozen breast milk I thawed yesterday. We have a few more days’ worth, but I’ve already started transitioning her to whole milk.” My voice falls to a whisper.

He nods solemnly, and I know he understands where the milk came from now. At first I feel guilty for laughing about it, but before I can fully freak out, I realize Mel would’ve thought it was hysterical too. She’d probably remind him about it for the next twenty years.

Realizing I have two coffees in my hand, I pour some cream into one and hand him his cup. He takes it gratefully. As he lifts it to his mouth, he pauses, looks in his mug and then back at me. “You made it for me.”

“Well, yeah. You take it with cream, right? Why would I hand you a cup of black coffee?” I tilt my head and look up at him. He has the strangest expression. “Are you feeling okay?” I reach up and place my hand on his forehead.

Mistake. Big mistake.

This close, I can smell his body wash or cologne or whatever it is that’s making my pulse riot. This close, I realize I come up to his chin, which is chiseled and scruffy and ridiculously rugged. This close, I realize just how lethally good-looking he is.

I yank my hand back, but before I can take a step away, my eyes lift to his mouth. His lips are parted, and he sucks in a breath. The urge to kiss him is so strong, my whole body throbs. His green eyes darken as he stares at my lips, and just when I think I’m going to spontaneously combust, the sound of a falling bowl makes us both jump. I turn to find that Isabella has tossed her baby food all over the floor.

Thank God for small mercies. I was two seconds from embarrassing myself. Seriously, what’s wrong with me?

I grab some washcloths and wipe down the mess. “Sorry about last night,” I blurt before I chicken out.