Page 11

CHAPTER

FIVE

brEE

T alk about being backed into a corner. Either I agreed to this farce or be forced to tell one of the best people I knew, one of the few people in this world who loved me, that while she watched my son, I’d been getting laid by a hookup.

I couldn’t tell Mrs. Grazia, er , Miss Claudia—it would take me some time to get used to calling her that—I couldn’t tell her the truth.

And not because I felt ashamed of a hookup.

I danced naked for a living. Plus, words like whore and slut always infuriated me.

Why were men still allowed these sexual passes and women were supposed to remain completely celibate unless in a committed relationship?

I hated the double standard. But it felt somehow disrespectful to Miss Claudia.

I couldn’t disappoint her. I needed her to always look at me the way she looked at me.

“Let me get dressed,” I mumbled, turning around before I started crying like an idiot. “Then I’ll make us breakfast.”

I dashed into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me, and let the frustration spill out in hot, angry tears. It took until I had two legs in my panties, sliding them up my thighs for the door to creak open again .

“You okay?” Reece’s voice broke through.

“Do I look okay?” I snapped, voice thick. “I have to lie to the best person I know or risk disappointing her.”

“She doesn’t sound disappointed, for what it’s worth. She’s a real nice lady.”

“Yeah, she is. But she doesn’t know the truth. Miss Claudia always thinks the best of me.”

“And a hookup would change that?”

“I don’t know. She might feel used.”

“Listen, you don’t want to do this, we’ll go out and tell her together, and then I’ll leave.”

“No—I can’t take the chance. She’s all I have. Her and Benny.” I slipped my bra on, and he stepped close, his hands steady as he fastened the clasp. A soft kiss landed on my earlobe, grounding me in the moment.

“Are you agreeing, then?” He almost sounded vulnerable.

“I don’t know that I have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice, babe. Are you agreeing? I need to hear the words.”

Sighing, I pulled a T-shirt out of my drawer, slipping it on, hanging my head. “I’m agreeing.”

“What are you thinking for breakfast?”

I glared at him. “Really?”

Reece chuckled. “Simmer down. I meant I’ll go start prepping while you finish getting dressed.”

“ Prepping ?”

“I helped my mom all the time. It was just her and me. She called me her ‘sous chef.’ I’ve got some killer knife skills. You need something chopped, I’m your man.”

My man. My fake man.

Could non-beggars still be choosers? I laughed at my stupid response to myself. “I’ve got onion and bell peppers in the fridge. You mind getting those diced? I’ll make a frittata.”

“Cheese?”

“I know shredding your own is better, but?— ”

“But you’re a mom to a young, special needs son and you work two jobs. Anyone who judges bagged shredded cheese can suck your ass.”

Without thinking, I slapped a hand over my mouth, laughing as I shook my head. He gave my butt a playful pat before walking out, and I quickly tugged on a pair of joggers from the open drawer, twisting my hair up into a clip as I followed.

Pausing, I let out a cleansing breath before opening the door. I was doing this. Baker Reece and I were fake dating.

Chatting from the kitchen echoed throughout the apartment.

I smiled. Miss Claudia’s voice chitted the loudest. Just her being her normally welcoming self.

When I made it into the kitchen, I found Reece busy washing peppers at the sink and Miss Claudia with the large, plastic cutting board out, shredding potatoes on top of it.

“I hope you don’t mind, Bree,” she said, smiling at me. “Baker said you’d decided on frittata and I thought hash browns.”

“Woman, you know potatoes—well, carbs of any kind—are my weakness,” I replied, still smiling. “I’ll get the mushrooms.”

“Leave it,” Reece said. “Just get the eggs and I saw you have turkey bacon in the refrigerator. Get that going. I’ll handle the mushrooms when I’m done with the peppers and onion.”

My kitchen certainly wasn’t big, by any means, but the size for an apartment happened to be the biggest reason for signing the lease here.

We fit fine. Benny sat at the table playing with his tablet.

I kissed my boy on his head as I passed him on my way to the fridge.

Having a home full of people working together like a family felt surreal.

Almost like I’d stumbled into some alternate reality where I no longer had to bear the weight of keeping everything going, alone.

It was a nice thought. I pulled the brand-new carton of eggs, the bacon, and the milk. Before starting on the eggs, I fixed Benny a sippy cup of chocolate milk. Then I pulled out a glass measuring cup from the cupboard, filling it with ice and water.

One of the kitchen lessons my mother had taught me years ago: always use ice water when scrambling up eggs. It made the fluffiest eggs. And what was a frittata but baked scrambled eggs with a filling?

Thank goodness for air fryers. They made for crispy bacon without the mess. I oiled up the casserole dish and whisked the eggs with the ice water. Reece walked over to where I stood closest to the stove to scrape his diced onion, peppers, and mushrooms into the eggs.

“You are good.” I couldn’t help but give the compliment.

“Told you. My mom taught me well.”

Agreed.

“Coffee?” he asked.

“It’s in the canister that says coffee .” And yes, I might’ve answered with a hint of teasing.

He raised an eyebrow. “How many people actually use the coffee canister?”

“I do,” I replied.

Miss Claudia piped up. “I do too. I’m the one who gave her the canisters last Christmas.”

Without thinking, I playfully slapped at his bottom, but he caught my hand, bringing it up to press a kiss to the inside of my wrist, never breaking eye contact as I felt the wetness from his lips and my lips parted.

“Oh my,” Miss Claudia said, sparking me sober from the Reece-induced stupor I’d found myself in. He turned his Baker Reece smile on her and I knew no matter what he said or did from this point out, she’d be putty in his very capable hands.

I removed myself from the huddle to get the now-crispy bacon, the smell of which filled the apartment, making my mouth water. After crumbling the bacon and adding it to the mixture, Reece dumped in what I had left in the bag of shredded cheddar and it all went into the oven to bake.

Miss Claudia helped me prepare a large skillet of hash browns.

This skillet’s hot, cast-iron surface made for optimal potato-to-pan contact, and delivered an unbelievably crispy exterior.

Also known as the perfect bite. I legitimately felt sorry for the other neighbors in our apartment building because they weren’t getting invited to this feast yet had to smell all the tasty aromas.

Reece made good on the coffee.

And the next thing I knew, we were moving into the living room with mugs and plates in hand to eat.

I set Benny up with his table tray on the floor.

He sat in his little beanbag chair eating and watching his tablet.

There wasn’t enough room for all of us at the kitchen table.

With it being just Benny and me living here, we only needed a small one.

But none of that mattered because the hallmark of a good meal had to be silence. None of us spoke while shoveling all the delicious food into our very happy mouths. Only once we’d filled our bellies did the conversation resume.

“What are your plans for today?” Reece asked me.

“If Miss Claudia needs to go to the store, we take her. Then maybe this afternoon, we’ll take Benny to story hour at the library.”

“Which library?”

“Charleston County Public. The Wando branch.”

“I should call up Bishop. He’s got a little guy. I bet he’d enjoy bringing LJ to a story hour.”

He wanted to ask Grant Bishop to join us? The Copperheads’ starting forward always treated me with kindness, but I doubted he’d want to spend his Saturday with us. Before I had the chance to voice my concerns, Reece had his phone out pressing Grant Bishop’s contact.

“Hey, man,” he said into the receiver. “Bree and I are taking her boy to story hour at the library on Wando.” He paused, then went on. “Yeah, we’re seeing each other now. It’s sort of new.” He paused again, covering his hand over the speaker. “When is it?”

“Four,” I answered, trying and failing to figure out how I’d lost control over my life.

“Four,” he said back to Grant Bishop. “Great. See you then.” After hanging up, he shoved his phone in his pocket and turned back to me. “Dishes first. Then the store and we’ll catch the story at the library. Bishop wants us all to go out to dinner after. That cool?”

Cool? Surreal— yes. Nerve-wracking? Possibly. But cool was yet to be determined. How did that old saying go? In for a penny, in for a pound?

“Miss Claudia?” I asked and she traitorously nodded. Without any other buffers to keep this from going down, I heard myself answer, “Yeah. Cool.”

After Benny finished his plate, I picked it up along with the others, stacking them one on top of another to take them into the kitchen.

As I stood at the sink rinsing, Reece walked in with the cups.

He started cleaning up the pans while I got the plates and cups into the dishwasher.

We worked well together, which surprised me.

I guess I’d never thought of the Baker Reece as a domestic type of guy.

The man always seemed too… too… above it all.

So much of my time spent with this man consisted of me thinking of him as a hockey star or a sex god. And those were both absolutely true. But the Baker Reece he showed me now seemed way more complex than that. Now, I’d never tell him this, but part of me was excited to find out more.

I finished wiping my hands with a piece of paper towel, and a thought struck me as I casually tossed the balled-up paper towel in the trash.