It was Monday and Abby had it off, so she’d kept Noah out of Club Kids for the day. She planned to play with him and get housework done. She’d love to skip the housework portion, but Noah was out of underwear and Abby didn’t even want to consider what kind of negligence Vivian would claim over that one. Besides, Abby was out of clean scrubs, so it was all-around dire straits in the laundry department.
“What do you feel like for breakfast? Waffles or pancakes?” she asked Noah.
He rubbed his eyes, wearing pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. He’d just emerged from his bedroom after sleeping in until eight, thank the universe. “Pancakes with extra syrup,” he said in a sweet, groggy voice, and flung himself face-first onto the couch.
“You got it.” Abby was more optimistic this morning than she’d been in a long time. She didn’t feel so backed to the wall. Abby had options. True, they involved a man she barely knew, but Hunt was offering a tempting alternative to the daily struggle she’d met for years.
She scrolled until she found an old playlist with Aretha Franklin’s “Respect” on it and cranked up her phone, swinging her hips as she prepped the pancake batter.
Giggles ensued from behind the counter, and she glanced over her shoulder.
“You’re funny, Mommy.” Noah was grinning, his knees tucked up near his chin. “Why are you dancing?”
“Because we’re going to eat pancakes and Aretha is playing.” She lifted the stirring spoon to her mouth like a microphone and lip-synced the chorus.
Noah jumped up and jerked his narrow hips while hopping around the living room. “R, E, S, Peee, C, P,” he shouted.
Abby laughed at her son’s slaughter of the lyrics. “You’ve got moves, little man. Just wait until the girls see how well you dance. They won’t know what hit them.”
Noah jumped onto the couch and shook his hips to the beat, kicking his leg in the air in a karate move.
Laughing, Abby turned and carefully poured the batter onto the grill she’d preheated. She set the bowl down and spun just in time for the next chorus, with a spoon to her mouth, eyes closed for emphasis.
Only, when she opened her eyes, Noah wasn’t alone.
“Gah!” Abby yelled, and stumbled back.
Hunt stood across the counter from her, arms crossed, feet spread apart. He quirked his eyebrow.
Noah stood next to him in an identical posture. Only he was unable to keep a straight face.
Abby set the spoon on the counter and quickly wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “What are you doing here?”
“Big Aretha fan, eh?” Hunt asked.
Noah dropped to the floor in a fit of giggles.
She frowned at her son then looked back at Hunt. “Do you always walk into people’s homes unannounced?”
Hunt stepped toward the front door and appeared to be checking the doorknob and lock. “Came by to fit the front and back doors with a chain lock. I noticed there wasn’t one the last time I was here.” He finished his inspection and looked back. “I would suggest you change the locks so that certain people with access can’t just walk in whenever they feel like it.” He sent her a knowing look.
Vivian, she thought, remembering how she’d told Hunt that she’d stupidly given Vivian a key to her home years ago.
“But I don’t think your landlord would appreciate that,” he said, and looked past her toward the stovetop. “I called,” he said, seemingly distracted by the food. “And knocked. Your performance must have muffled the sound. You don’t check your phone very often, do you?”
Busted.
“Besides,” he said, “once Noah started shouting about PCP and drugs, I thought I should check in on things and make sure everything was okay. Your door was unlocked, by the way.”
She twisted her mouth in annoyance. “First of all, I’m home. Sometimes I leave the door unlocked during the day. Second, Noah’s five. He got the lyrics wrong. And getting back to your purpose here, I can’t install a chain on my door. My landlord wouldn’t like that any better than changing the locks.”
He scratched the side of his jaw, scruffy as though he’d run out in a hurry this morning and hadn’t taken the time to shave. “It’s nothing permanent. They’ll probably appreciate the extra security. Everyone wants their property protected.” He notched up his chin. “What’re you cooking over there? Looks like pancakes.”
“That’s because it is pancakes.” Speaking of—Abby spun to flip the food before it burned. Hunt was rubbing his stomach when she turned back around.
“I haven’t eaten breakfast myself.” He gave her the saddest puppy-dog eyes she’d ever seen. “I wanted to run this errand before I went into work.”
She shook her head. “That’s the most pathetic attempt at inviting yourself to breakfast.”
“Did it work?” He lowered his voice. “Besides, I’m doing my fiancé duties and taking care of my woman. Can’t have the doors unsecured. What kind of man would I be if I put my food intake ahead of your and Noah’s safety?”
Her belly dropped. Damn him, he was good.
But that wasn’t what this was about. It was all a show. Only now, Noah was an avid audience to the interplay between her and Hunt.
“What’s a fiancé?” Noah asked.
If Abby followed through with the fake marriage, Noah would need to see this. He’d need to know Abby and Hunt were more than just friends. She hated lying to her son, but she couldn’t tell him the truth until she’d made a firm decision. Noah was completely guileless at this age, and incapable of lying. Vivian would hear the truth from Noah, and the jig would be up.
“I’ll explain later,” she told Noah. She sent Hunt a look. “Would you like to join us for breakfast?”
He gave her a toothy grin. “Only if it’s not too much trouble.”
After a breakfast in which both boy and man consumed an inordinate amount of pancakes and bacon, Abby stood and put dishes in the dishwasher.
“I have a proposition for you,” Hunt said, and Abby looked up. “What do you think of me taking Noah to the store to buy those chain locks? You’d have an hour or so to yourself.”
An entire hour to herself? Yes, there was laundry to do, but still… Except this wasn’t Club Kids. This was Hunt taking her son in the car and driving off somewhere. “I don’t know,” she said, and looked at Noah.
“Yes!” Noah shouted, and ran to his bedroom.
Hunt laughed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said it in front of him. You can still back out.”
If she was considering marrying this man, she needed to be able to trust him around her son. Technically, Hunt spent as much time with Noah as she did—or more so due to Club Tahoe—so it was silly to stand on ceremony now.
Noah returned and stripped off his pajamas before putting on pants and a T-shirt. The shirt went on backward, of course.
Abby closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Noah, we change in the bedroom.”
“Hunt’s leaving,” Noah said, “and I want to go with him.”
Hunt looked up, a question on his face.
There went her quality time with her son on her day off. Truthfully, she spent almost no time by herself, and she could use it. “Okay, but can you take my car? It has the car seat.”
Hunt looked out the window and winced. “No, no, I got this.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Is Sunflower not good enough for you?”
“Sunflower?”
“My car is delicate. The name fits her.”
Hunt chuckled. “Delicate is one way of putting it. I’m afraid I won’t actually make it to work today if I attempt to drive Sunflower to the store and back.”
She wanted to be insulted, but no joke, it could happen. “You can’t drive Noah without a car seat.”
“Which is why I’ll take yours from Sunflower and install it in my car.”
“You know how?”
He sent her an incredulous look. “I have a niece. I know how to install a car seat.”
“Interesting.” And it was interesting to think of Hunt taking his niece around town. And pretty darn cute. “Well,” she said, “it’s less of a car seat and more of a booster, since Noah’s older now. Should be easy to install.”
“No worries.” He looked out the window again. “What do you say about me taking Noah across the street to that park? If I know him”—Hunt winked at her son—“your boy needs to get a few wiggles out after eating all those pancakes.”
This was almost like having a babysitter. Hunt was good with kids. Really good. And he paid attention.
She looked at Noah, who was jumping up and down and tugging on Hunt’s arm. “I guess that’s a yes,” she said.
“Be back in a few.” Hunt walked out the door with Noah.
Abby watched them from the living room window, and saw Hunt hold Noah’s hand and look both ways before they crossed the street.
Even Noah’s father hadn’t been as conscientious with their son as Hunt had been just now. Abby didn’t realize until Trevor was gone how much she’d looked after things on behalf of the both of them.
Whatever this was between her and Hunt, it was temporary. She didn’t want to get used to the help, because she’d sorely miss it when it was gone.
Abby should have been folding laundry or finishing those dishes she’d started, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Hunt and Noah playing in the park.
Currently, Noah had his arms and legs wrapped around Hunt’s torso like a spider monkey, while Hunt did pull-ups on one of the tall playground bars.
Noah wasn’t light at over forty pounds, and Hunt was doing pull-ups with the extra weight like it was nothing. How did he do it?
Hunt’s biceps bulged with each repetition, his body tight and angled to support Noah on his chest. It was mesmerizing.
Until Noah began to slip.
Abby yelped, hand flying to her mouth.
But Hunt smoothly dropped to the ground, his arm already secured around Noah. He was in perfect control, this strong man with her son.
Her eyes grew wet, nose burning. She would not cry. That was ridiculous. It was only that she’d never seen a man so thoroughly careful and kind to Noah. Trevor had been a loving father, but he’d always put his me-time first. The birth of their child hadn’t slowed Trevor’s outdoor adventures one bit.
Noah ran to the slide, and Hunt followed him. They played on the equipment for a few more minutes, with Hunt pushing Noah on the swing or catching Noah when he flung himself at Hunt from atop the playground set. And then they were walking back toward the house.
Abby sucked in a breath and rushed for a tissue to blow her nose. She quickly grabbed the laundry basket and began folding clothes. She smiled when they walked in the door. “How was it?”
“Great!” Noah said.
Hunt hadn’t even broken a sweat; the clean scent of his soap wafted past her on his way to the kitchen counter. “You mind if I grab your car keys? I’ll get that booster seat set up, and we can be on our way.”
“Sure.” Abby strode across the room and fished inside her purse for her keys. She handed them to Hunt.
“Thanks,” he said. “Be right back.”
Abby looked down at Noah. “Use the bathroom before you leave, okay?”
Noah raced to the bathroom, did his business, splashed water on his hands for less than half a second, then ran back out.
She’d never seen her son so excited to spend time with someone. She had a special bond with Noah, but it was clear he’d been missing a man in his life.
Hunt returned, and Noah was already racing past her to buckle himself in the shiny new Range Rover.
Of course Hunt wouldn’t want to drive Sunflower when he had that beauty. Not that Sunflower wasn’t pretty. She was just…special.
Fine, her car sucked.
“Okay, so you’ll call me if you need anything?”
He sent her a knowing look. “We’ll be fine. Enjoy your free time. And try not to spend it all on chores. If I return and those dishes are gone from the sink, I won’t be happy.” He winked.
“Hunt,” Abby said. She’d already made her decision. It had come to her sometime between the pull-ups and the slide. “The answer is yes. To your question. I’ll—marry you,” she said quietly, though Noah was nowhere near earshot.
Hunt blinked, and then a smile slowly spread across his face. “It’s going to work out. You’ll see.” Before she could gather her wits, he was out the door and headed for his car.
Abby collapsed on the couch, shivers racking her body. “Holy shit.”
Had she really agreed to this? And if it was a marriage in name only, how would she fight her attraction to the handsome man in her house?