She turned to look over her shoulder, finding Spike there. His back was to them, his towel hanging precariously around his hips as he grabbed a T-shirt from his drawers.
“Umm. That’s Spike.” He wasn’t her man. But she didn’t want to get into that with her friends.
“Well, hello there, handsome,” Mrs. Spain practically purred.
“Mrs. Spain,” she managed to splutter out.
Spike turned and gave her a curious look.
“Um, these are some of my friends from back home. This is Spike, who I’m staying with.” And fucking. And who is my temporary Daddy. But there’s no real emotion between us. Well, that’s not true there is from me to him just not vice versa. Because he still loves his dead wife and how can I compete with that?
News flash. I can’t.
Spike gave everyone a wave. “You okay?” he asked her.
She nodded woodenly and he walked into the bathroom again, presumably to get dressed where he wouldn’t be ogled.
“Who was that?” Mr. Spain demanded.
“Millie’s man,” Mrs. Spain replied.
“The milkman? Why is the milkman in Millie’s bedroom?”
Millie started giggling as everyone tried to correct the deaf older man. Even Mr. Fluffy started barking as though to add his two cents worth.
Okay, so maybe Spike would never love her. Or want anything more from her than what they now had. But she did have people who loved her.
And she should be grateful for that.
* * *
“Please, pretty please with kale and chia seeds on top.”
“Kale and chia seeds?”
Standing on the other side of his desk with her hands in the prayer position, she batted her eyelashes at him.
He should send her away. After all, begging didn’t work with him. He was immune to it.
Right. Sure you are, idiot.
When he’d first insisted on bringing her home, he’d known he was making an idiotic move. He’d told himself that he could keep her safe without caring about her.
Yeah. That had worked.
All too soon, she’d started working her way under his skin. He had to keep reminding himself that this wasn’t a forever thing. He’d been keeping as much distance as he could from her physically. But he knew that hurt her. He’d seen the flashes of pain in her eyes when he’d brushed off her attempts to pull him into one of her games.
The house was filled with laughter and sunshine again. He should hate it. After all, she was bringing out feelings in him. Things he didn’t want. He liked his lonely, dark existence.
It was his punishment for his failings.
So yeah, he should tell her no. Send her away so he could hide in his study and pretend that he didn’t long to play with her. To watch her as she danced and sang. To wince as she attempted to play the damn keyboard he’d bought her. The woman sang like a dream. But she couldn’t play the keyboard for shit.
“Too dangerous,” he told her shortly. “Order it online.”
He knew his words were too harsh when she winced. “Okay.” Her shoulders slumped and she turned away.
Stay strong. Stay strong.