“Just so you know,” Mitch repeated, his chest hitting my hand then his entire body stopping smack in my space, “I’m in my bed, sleeping or otherwise, you should feel free to, say, crawl into it with me and do anything you want.”
Oh God.
I was seeing that I should have stood firm on the breezeway.
“Uh…” I mumbled as Mitch’s chest pushed against my hand and his eyes went to my bed then back to me just as his hands settled on my waist.
Oh God!
“It looks comfortable, baby,” he whispered.
“Um…”
“Though, that kind of thing is try before you buy. You gonna help me out with that?”
It took effort but I pulled myself together.
“Are you making moves on me with two kids in the other room?” I asked.
“Billie had three donuts and Billy had four. In about five minutes they’re each gonna have a sugar crash and lapse into donut comas. My guess is, we have an hour.”
“Mitch, seriously, we have important things to talk about.”
“I agree. Setting the boundaries of your bed and my bed are very important.”
I leaned into him an inch and hissed, “Mitch!”
His eyes warmed. “I promise, next time I’m in here when you’re sleeping, I won’t turn off the alarm.”
“Fine, can we move on?”
He ignored me. “But that’s the only thing I’ll agree to not doing.”
Argh!
I leaned into him another inch and snapped, “Fine. Can…we…move on?”
His hands slid from my waist to my back, one arm wrapping around, one hand sliding up to between my shoulder blades as he grinned and relented, “Fine. We can move on.”
I put both hands on his chest. “I’d prefer to carry on this conversation with you not holding me.”
His arm at my waist got tight, his hand between my shoulder blades pushed in and I found my body pressed to his.
His face dipped closer to mine and he said softly, “I think that answers that request. Now, moving on?”
I stared into his eyes. Then I sighed and decided to get this over fast so I could have coffee, get ready for work and get the hell out of there.
“I’m not comfortable with you having my keys, coming in and taking the kids out of the house without me knowing it.”
To that, he asked, “How you feelin’?”
My head twitched and I asked back, “Pardon?”
“How you feelin’?” he repeated.
“I’m fine.”
“You said you slept well.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You rested?”
A whoosh swept through my belly as I understood what he was asking. He’d done what he’d done so I could sleep in.
Oh my.
“Mitch,” I whispered.
“I came over, sweetheart, they were up. You weren’t. I told them to get dressed, I turned off your alarm, took them out but I left a note. We were gone fifteen minutes, tops. You had a rough week, a crazy night and you needed to sleep.”
“Is this you helping out?” I asked quietly.
“Yeah,” he answered just as quietly.
It was a nice thing to do. Intrusive and over the line, but nice.
Damn.
“We need to agree what other ways you’re going to help out,” I told him.
“You set up afterschool childcare?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I take them to school ‘cause it’s off your schedule but on mine. I can get away to pick them up and take them to childcare so I’ll do that too. If I’m off before you, I get them and they hang with me until you come home. You work weekend days, if I can look after them, I will. If one of your posse can’t kick in when I got something on, Ma or my sister Penny’ll do it. Those are the ways I’m gonna help out.”
I stared up at him. That wasn’t helping out. That was doing most of the tough stuff.
“That’s too much,” I pointed out the obvious.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“You have a job, a life,” I reminded him.
“I can fit this in,” he told me.
I shook my head. “I’m not comfortable with that.”
“Mara, sweetheart, I’m tellin’ you, it’s not a big deal.”
“But it is. You barely know me. You barely know them!” I was not only uncomfortable, I was getting freaked out.
“I’m gonna get to know you and the same with them.”
My head tipped to the side. “What happens when you get to know me and you don’t want to get to know me anymore? What happens to them?”
He tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling then he muttered, “Christ, here we go again.”
I gave a little shove to his chest and snapped, “Mitch!” and his eyes came back to me. “Seriously.”
“Seriously?” he asked. “I can’t tell the future. All I know is, right now, I want to get to know you and I’m gonna set about doin’ that. I also know those two kids out there have had it tough; they need to learn the lesson that there are good people in this world who give a shit because their Dad sure as f**k doesn’t. I’m tellin’ you I’m willin’ to step in and help them learn that lesson. We’re both adults. We’re both decent people. Because of that, those two, whatever happens with us, won’t feel it.”
“I don’t –”
“Mara,” his arms gave me a squeeze, “baby, you’ve got to live in the now. Not in your head. Not controlled by your fears. You can’t live for what might happen five months in the future. You got issues you gotta face today. You gotta deal with them now. You got two kids who count on you and their lives aren’t gonna go perfect every day because you weigh every decision you make and tread cautiously. Those options are no longer available to you. You’re gonna have to live day to day and make decisions on the fly. And I’m tellin’ you I’m here to help. You need it and they need it. Are you honestly gonna say no?”
I pressed my lips together finding it annoying when he was right.
I didn’t tell him that. Instead I changed the subject.
“There are other things we need to talk about.”
He stared at me a second then shook his head once and sighed.
Then he said, “Yeah, the Trailer Trash Twins.”
“Well, actually, no,” I told him. “I was referring to, um…what, uh…what happened last night.”