Page 55 of Mr. Infuriating (Mister #1)

Gretchen

“Ms. Kelly, this is really good!” Brittany announced in between bites of the skillet beef macaroni and cheese.

Gabe nodded enthusiastically. “Delicious.”

“Thanks. You saw it was pretty simple to make.”

He choked out, “ That was simple?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I stabbed some pasta with my fork. “Well, yeah.”

“It’s like a gourmet version of the stuff from a box that Dad makes.”

I glanced over at him with a knowing smile, then told Britt, “I’ll send your dad the recipe.”

Jake happily munched away in the travel booster seat that was pushed up tight against Gabe’s kitchen table.

“Is it good, baby?”

He nodded enthusiastically and attempted another bite that ended up on his face before reaching his mouth.

Gabe smiled as he watched Jake, then told me, “I think I have p-u-d-d-i-n-g in the pantry for dessert. Although it’s the instant kind in a box, not in a cup.”

“I saw that. The instant is better anyway. At least in my opinion. Although, either way, it’s going to end up in his hair.”

“That’s what bathtubs are for.”

He needed to keep his kind eyes to himself. I wouldn’t be lulled into believing he felt anything for me other than polite indifference.

I tried to keep the conversation light .

“I can’t wait for summer at the Cape, and I can just stick him in the outdoor shower.”

Brittany sat up straighter. “Oh! Do you have a place there? My Uncle Maverick and Aunt Olivia just bought a summer house on the beach!”

“My parents do. My mom inherited it from my grandparents.”

“The one you stayed at when you were a kid?”

“The very same. And now my kids will get to spend their summers there, too.”

“How many more kids do you want?”

“Britt—” Gabe warned. “That’s not something you ask someone.”

“Why not? She said her kidssss,” Brittany drew the “S” out. “I was just wondering how many more she was going to have.”

I looked at Gabe, who was obviously uncomfortable with the topic, but I decided not to let it go.

“It’s a reasonable question, given how I was the one who brought it up. But your dad’s right; that’s probably not something you should ask someone out of the blue. The answer is, ideally, I’d love three more. But at my age, I’ll be happy if I can give Jake at least one little brother or sister.”

Brittany gave Gabe a conspiratorial look.

“Do you have anyone in mind to be the father?”

Gabe abruptly pushed his chair back from the table.

“All right! That’s enough!”

Both Brittany and Jake stopped eating and stared at Gabe in surprise.

I wrinkled my nose at Brittany and gently shook my head.

“Yeah, that’s definitely not something you should ask. ”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude. I just thought maybe—” She trailed off as she stole another glance at her dad, who still scowled.

He pinned her in place with his glare.

“You thought wrong.”

I pretended it just dawned on me what she was thinking and let my eyes go big in dramatic fashion.

“Oh, you thought…” I moved my finger back and forth between Gabe and myself, then chuckled. “Oh, no. No. No. No. That would never happen.”

****

Gabe

Never?

Why the fuck not?

Wait.

That’s exactly what I’d been saying.

Except I didn’t like hearing it come out of Gretchen’s mouth.

What the hell was wrong with me? A question I’d asked myself more than once today.

“Honey, I explained this already. Ms. Kelly’s a client, and a friend, that’s it.”

My daughter’s pursed lips indicated she wasn’t convinced, but she remarked, “If you guys say so.”

I stole a glimpse at Gretchen, maybe hoping she’d look as unsure as I felt. Instead of any uncertainty though, she nodded her head in confirmation, so I steadfastly replied, “We say so.”

An awkward silence overfell us for a beat; even Jake seemed to understand something was amiss because he shared in the quiet while he continued eating. Then suddenly he loudly announced, “I done, Mama!”

She looked at his empty plate.

“Good job, baby! You ate all your dinner!”

“Can we have p-u-d-d-i-n-g now?” Brittany asked hopefully. “I’ll make it.”

“It’s okay with me if it’s okay with Ms. Kelly.”

Gretchen nodded her head. “Thanks, Brittany,” then asked Jake as she cleared his plate, “Do you want some pudding?”

The little boy’s eyes lit up, and he bounced in his seat while echoing, “Poo-ding!”

Brittany got up and headed toward the pantry, and I called out, “He likes vanilla!”

Gretchen’s snapped her head to stare at me.

“You remembered that?”

“Of course.” I winked at her. “And I think we even have bubble bath for when he’s done.”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I promise, no naked time though.”

My mind immediately went to naked time with her .

What a shame.

Her brows furrowed as she exclaimed, “What did you say?”

Shit, did I say that out loud? I needed to back pedal—fast.

“He seemed to have so much fun streaking through your house. You said so yourself, it’s just something little kids do.”

“I’m trying to teach him there’s a time and a place for everything, and this is not an appropriate time nor place to do that.”

“Why not? I want you to feel at home here.”

“You do?”

I answered without hesitation, “Yeah, I do,” and found I meant it.

I noticed my daughter pouring milk into a mixing bowl with a big smirk.

Aw, crap.