“I can help.”
“Nah. I got it.” Will shook his head. “I want you to work on my design.”
“I can’t do it in an hour. I need to measure and plan and—”
“Take as long as you need. I want to see what you come up with.” He pulled two steaks and broccoli out of the fridge. “But I want to hear more about how you became part ofMi Casa es Su Casa.”
And as Will cooked, he listened to her talk. About the interview process and the first season on the show. How much she’d learned. What she’d like to do from here. And before he knew it, they were putting away the dishes they’d washed. It was the best night he’d had in what felt like forever. The conversation was easy. He could do it over and over and never get bored. And that thought made his gut churn.
“Will.” The pained cry rent the air, drawing the attention of both Will and Aly, their heads swiveling toward the kitchen door.
The next noise was worse. There was no mistaking the gasp that echoed down the hall as they hustled up the stairs.
Aly froze. “He’s got the stomach bug,” she whispered.
Will nodded, and once he was in Andy’s bathroom, the smell reinforced their suspicions.
Aly gagged from behind him.
“I got this.”
“I should—”
“Team,” he reminded her as he rubbed Andy’s back. But the nagging voice in Will’s head said he was already getting invested in both Andy and Aly in a way he’d always avoided. Eventually, these two would move on, and where would that leave Will? He wasn’t certain he should open himself up to them. But he wasn’t sure he could stop himself either.
CHAPTER13
Aly backedout of the room and shut the door behind her. One more shining example of Will’s perfect parenting abilities. Even vomit didn’t bother him. The rank smell had Aly gagging, but Will wasn’t fazed. She headed down the stairs to grab a large pot and one of the ginger ales Will had put in the fridge earlier, because of course he was prepared.
The man was practically perfect, albeit a bit bossy. Even the way he’d pointed his fork at her and ordered she eat was all demand.
She reached the top step as Andy’s bedroom door opened.
“Perfect.” Will’s brown eyes danced as he glanced at the pot and soda. “See what a good team we are?”
“Meaning you do the work and I bring random stuff?” Aly handed him the reinforcements.
He set the can in the pot so he could hold it in one hand. “I was thinking more along the lines of being so in tune that you brought exactly what I was hoping you would.” Will brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Get to bed.”
The bossiness should ruffle her, but she was used to it at this point. Will Evans liked to give orders. And the flashing thought of what that might be like in the bedroom had her shivering.
“I meant your own bed.”
Her eyes widened. Had he read her mind? He lifted his hand once more, his fingers dancing along her cheekbone.
“You have to work tomorrow, so I’ve got Andy tonight.”
She swallowed, fixated on the way he watched her. Like his gaze was its own caress of her skin. He studied her like she was a work of art, and it flipped her stomach, clenched her core, and made her yearn for more.
“Don’t”—she cleared her throat—“don’t you have to be at the gym?”
He shook his head. “I already texted my assistant coach about running the teams, and I told the opening manager that I won’t be in. They have it covered.”
“While I got the pot? Holy moly, Will. How are you so on top of everything?”
He chuckled. “No, I did it earlier tonight. Knowing this,” he nodded his head toward Andy’s door, “was a possibility, I wanted to cover my bases.”
She groaned. That almost made it worse. “I didn’t even think about tomorrow.”