At the arcade, he’d said that he never dated. But that could mean anything, right? Her cousins never dated, but they had one-night-stands whenever the mood struck them. Who said Keenan didn’t do the same? Just because he hadn’t this week, maybe he would fall back into old habits after she’d settled in?
The idea of Keenan with another woman made her see red. And knowing she had no claim on him, she got irritated with herself. She righted her shoulders and continued down the stairs like she couldn’t be bothered what anyone thought of her and her pjs.
When she rounded the corner, she gasped at the sight in front of her. Tommy stood on top of a chair with flour stuck in his hair. It also was plastered on his pajamas, on his arms and in a four-feet radius from his chair.
“… And you know you’re not allowed to cook without an adult present.”
Tommy stepped down from the chair, dejected. Keenan put his hand on Tommy’s chest, “No, not yet. First, I want you to promise me you’re not doing this ever again. Okay?”
Tommy gave his father a forlorn nod. “Yes, Dad. I’m sorry.”
Outside the kitchen window, the world was covered in darkness. Ryleigh glanced at the oven and read the time.
03:14 am
“Wow, you’ve been quite busy. I can’t wait to see what you’re going to make us in the morning, Tommy.”
The shy smile on his face instantly dropped when Keenan cleared his throat. “I’ll take you upstairs and don’t come out before I call you in the morning. Okay?”
“See you tomorrow, Tommy.”
Tommy gave a quick jerk of the head and led the way out of the kitchen with Keenan at his heels. Ryleigh grabbed the vacuum cleaner from the walk-in pantry next to the kitchen and got to work.
After everything had been cleaned, Keenan walked back in.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. He wanted to bake cupcakes for the party tomorrow and surprise us.”
She rolled the vacuum cleaner into the pantry and said, “Ahh, that’s sweet.”
“Thanks for helping me out—and for helping me tomorrow with the party. I know you have the weekends off and—”
She walked around the corner, and he’d stopped talking. His eyes went from her face, down to her chest. Her hardened nipples poked against her silky camisole. Why couldn’t they just stay in place and not draw his eyes to them?
Keenan’s gaze moved on to her shorts and wandered over her naked thighs. Is it even possible for her skin to prickle where his eyes touched her?
“It’s no problem…” her voice came out breathy.
No. She had to stop imagining he was interested in her like that. He’s only being nice, thanking her for hanging around tomorrow on her day off.
“Good…” he rasped.
The silence was killing her. She wanted to say something so bad but couldn’t think of anything. So she stood stock-still when he came up to her and brushed his thumb over the pebbled skin on top of her shoulder, “You’ve got some flour on you.”
His pinky connected to her camisole strap, and it tumbled down, drooping below her elbow. The cooler night air tickled her bare breast and had her already hard nipple throbbing in its need to be touched.
He took a sharp breath and said, “Oh, shit. Sorry.”
When he reached for her strap to pull it back up, the side of his hand connected to the swell of her breast. She gasped, and he instantly retreated his hand.
“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“To touch my boob?” She giggled at the absurdness of their situation. His deer-caught-in-headlights- face morphed into an ear-to-ear smile.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
She loved how his stubble rasped against his touch when he palmed his jawline.