Page 39 of Mr. Infuriating (Mister #1)

Gabe

I watched Gretchen as she prepared Jake’s dinner and was struck at how beautiful this side of her I hadn’t seen before was. I was willing to bet she was an amazing teacher, too.

Which I was banking on, if my plan was going to work.

Once she set Jake’s plate on the tray of his high chair, I cleared my throat and said, “So, about this proposition I have.”

Gretchen shot a look in her son’s direction before quietly murmuring, “I don’t think we should talk about that right now.” She motioned her head at the little man happily munching away on his fish sticks in one hand and tater tots in the other. “Not in front of …”

That confused me, but I stammered out, “Oh, okay.”

She pulled a pot out of the cupboard, set it on the stovetop, and asked, “Are you hungry?”

“I am.”

It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d just come from stuffing myself at an all-you-can-eat buffet, it sounded like she was offering me dinner and there was zero chance I’d turn that down.

Fortunately, I hadn’t eaten since lunch.

She pulled a container from the refrigerator, poured its contents into the pot, and turned the burner on medium.

“I’m just having cream of potato soup, but I can make you a grilled cheese or hamburger to go with it.”

“Are you having anything besides soup?”

“Well, no, but it’s not a problem to make you something. ”

“So, let me get this straight… I was a jerk to you, and you’re still offering to make me something special for dinner?”

“I wouldn’t call it special.” She smirked as she stirred the soup with a wooden spoon. “But since I’m not sharing the cheesecake, I thought it’d be the polite thing to do.”

I gave her a sly smile. “I brought two slices.”

Without missing a beat, she replied, “And I’ll appreciate that second slice tomorrow at lunch.”

My mouth dropped open in fake outrage, and I waited for her to tell me she was just teasing. But she didn’t. Instead, she continued, “So, do you want a grilled cheese or a hamburger or something else?”

“Um… I’ll just have the soup with you.”

Finally, she burst out laughing.

“Okay, fine, I’ll split the cheesecake. But I know the soup and cheesecake aren’t going to fill you up, so pick something to go with it, or I will.”

I wanted nothing more than to kiss that feisty mouth of hers into submission, but considering our circumstances, that might lead to a knee to my groin.

Still, I couldn’t resist raking my gaze up and down her body as I replied, “I’ve got something else in mind.”

Our eyes locked and her mouth parted. We’d spent a weekend flirting with each other; I knew she understood the innuendo.

But after a beat, she looked away and said, “Oh, do you want a sandwich or something instead?”

I wasn’t going to let it go that easily.

“Or something. ”

This time when our gazes met, she lifted one eyebrow and defiantly put her hand on her hip.

“Such as?”

I knew then that I’d overplayed my hand.

Hell, I wasn’t even sure why I was playing any hand at all. I’d come to her house to offer her a deal—a way for her to keep her house, while my kid could improve his grades. And in the process, assuage my conscience for how big a dick I’d been after we’d spent an amazing weekend together.

When I arrived here, there hadn’t been any expectation of continuing things between us.

But the second I saw her, all I could think about was feeling her underneath me again.

Judging by her reaction to my flirting attempt, the feeling was one-sided.

I dropped down onto a stool at her kitchen island. “Actually, a grilled cheese sounds perfect.”

She nodded and gathered the contents for the sandwich on the counter, then took a frying pan from a cupboard and set it on the stove.

“Mama, I done!”

She glanced at Jake and shook her head.

“Five more bites.” Then she clarified, like they’d played this game before. “ Big boy bites.”

He bit half a red pepper strip, and Gretchen declared, “One,” as she opened the bread bag and pulled out two slices of bread.

Jake took a bite of fish sticks this time and she said, “Two…” while slathering butter on the bread. She placed one pi ece on the frying pan. It let out a little sizzle and she set two slices of cheese on it, before topping it with the second piece.

“Three.”

I watched in awe as she stirred the soup, then reached inside a cupboard for two bowls, grabbed two spoons from the drawer, and followed it with effortlessly flipping the sandwich in the pan. All while keeping track of her son’s eating habits.

“Four.” She stopped what she was doing. “That’s not a big boy bite. It has to be a big boy bite for it to count.”

Jake took a dramatic chomp of a red pepper strip, and she praised him with, “That’s better.”

She ladled a bowl of soup, set it in front of me, then plated the sandwich—making sure to cut it in half before sliding it next to the soup.

“Thank you, this looks amazing.”

“I didn’t try to burn down the kitchen this time,” she said with the soft smile I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed until right at that moment.

She looked at Jake and beamed before proclaiming, “Five! Good job, sweetie.”

With his mouth still full, he exclaimed, “Poo-ding, mama!”

“You want pudding?”

He nodded vigorously as he chewed.

“Okay, but you have to give me two more big boy bites first.”

Jake took another bite of fish sticks, and Gretchen opened the pantry and pulled out a chocolate pudding cup in one hand and a vanilla in the other.

“Chocolate or vanilla?”

“Banilla!”

She looked over at me with raised brows, and repeated, “Chocolate or vanilla?”

I grinned broadly as I finished half of my sandwich. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had pudding.

“Oh, chocolate, definitely.”

She returned my smile and put the chocolate flavor in front of my plate, then told Jake, “One more bite, baby,” as she peeled the lid off the vanilla cup.

He did as his mom asked, and she set the pudding on the little boy’s tray, much to his delight.

Gretchen cleared his dinner plate, rinsed it, and put it in the dishwasher.

She still hadn’t served herself any soup.

“Are you going to eat?”

“Oh,” she glanced at the stove where the pot of soup still sat. I noticed the burner was off. “I will.”

“When, darlin’?”

“Probably after I put him to bed,” she sheepishly admitted.

Glancing down at my now-empty sandwich plate, I felt a wave of guilt for having eaten my grilled cheese without her.

I stood and ushered her to the barstool next to mine. Once she was settled, I grabbed her bowl and went to where the pot of potato soup sat on the stove and ladled her a generous portion.

“Eat,” I commanded as I set the bowl in front of her, then opened her pantry and pulled out a box of club crackers and deposited it next to her bowl. Next, I opened her fridge.

“What can I get you to drink?”

She jumped up from her seat .

“Oh my god! I didn’t offer you anything to drink! I’m so sorry!”

“Sit your cute butt back down and eat. I’m perfectly capable of getting my own drink if I’d wanted one. Now, let’s try this again. What can I get you to drink?”

Gretchen looked mildly amused when she settled back onto the stool and replied, “Just water, thanks.”

Jake took the opportunity to aggressively clank his now-empty sippy cup on the high chair tray. “More miwk, pweeze!”

“No, baby. No more milk. You can have water.”

Again, she stood up, and I immediately tsked, pointed to her seat, and told her, “I got it,” as I grabbed Jake’s cup.

I served her a glass of ice water first. Then, under her watchful eye, I rinsed the sippy cup before filling it with water from the refrigerator door.

“Does he get ice?”

She shook her head. “He doesn’t like it.”

After giving Jake back his cup, I sat down beside her and picked up my spoon to finish my bowl of soup.

“I can warm that up for you.”

I couldn’t help but smile as I took a bite.

“Thanks, it’s still warm. How’s yours?”

“It’s good, thank you.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed her staring at me as she ate, so I turned and asked, “What?”

“I’m just very confused right now. I haven’t heard from you since…” she trailed off as she glanced at Jake, who was happily working on his pudding. “And you show up tonight, a month later, and act like everything’s fine. And worse, I’m letting you. ”

I knew she’d accepted my apology too easily.

“Let me explain…”

She cut me off. “No need. You don’t owe me anything. I just can’t figure out why you’re here now .”

“I told you; I have a proposition for you.”

“Right, a proposition. Not to sound like a broken record, but why now?”

“Your phone call today made me realize how badly I owe you an apology. Plus, I thought we could help each other out.”

She took a quick intake of breath, and I noticed her nipples were pointed diamonds. Which, of course, made my dick jump.

Down boy! She’s not interested.

But her nipples hadn’t been stiff a minute ago, and it wasn’t cold in the kitchen, so I had to wonder what was up with her tits.

****

Gretchen

I swallowed hard as my mind raced to what I thought his proposition was going to be.

I couldn’t decide if I was flattered, insulted, turned on, or a combination of all three.

“Like I said, I don’t think we should discuss that now.” I motioned my head toward Jake. “Maybe we could have lunch or something this week.”

“What time does he go to bed?”

My attention went to the clock on the microwave that read 6:19.

“Around seven-thirty. ”

“I can wait. Or, if you’d rather me not be here that long, I can come back.”

“We have play time, then he gets a bath, and then we read a story… I don’t want you sitting around twiddling your thumbs.”

“I don’t mind. I’ve got my computer in the truck, so I can get some work done. I’ll stay out of your way.”

Of course he would. God forbid he have any more interaction with my child.

Although I did have to give him credit for how well he’d behaved around Jake tonight. A far cry from the first time they’d met, when he’d practically tripped over his feet running to his truck.

Fortunately, that interaction had been so brief, Jake had been none the wiser.

“I done!”

I took one look at my little guy and burst out laughing. His face and hair were covered in pudding.

“Oh my goodness. Did any of the pudding make it into your mouth, child?”

He just grinned at me in return.

I stood to get a rag to clean his hands and face, but Gabe put his hand on my arm.

“Finish your soup. He’ll be okay until you’re done.”

It was such a foreign concept, finishing my food before jumping to help my kid. No one had ever encouraged me to do that before. I hadn’t realized I needed permission from someone else to take care of myself, but Gabe was right—Jake was fine while I finished.

“Thank you,” I said when I finally put my bowl in the sink .

He cocked his head. “For what?”

I shrugged, unsure how to put how I was feeling into words. “For telling me to eat hot soup.”

It was a lame explanation, but he smiled like he understood.

“Of course.”

I glanced at Jake and sighed. “I think we’re going to do things out of order tonight. Bath first, then play time.”

Gabe also looked at the mess that was my son and chuckled. “That’s probably a good idea.”

I quickly wiped Jake’s hands, so he didn’t get pudding all over me when I took him out of his high chair.

“We’ll be back.”

He gave me a soft smile. “I’ll be here.”

I couldn’t help but wonder though, would he really?