Page 7 of The Live-In Temptation (Steele Brothers of Starlight Cove #2)

CHAPTER SIX

CHLOE

I wasn’t mad at Luna per se. More frustrated. And maybe not frustrated as much as clam jammed. Because when I got this job—and to be clear, I was absolutely going to get this job because I was a fucking magician with kids—that meant banging Sir-Broods-a-Lot was officially off the table.

And. Well. I deserved to mourn that a little bit. Because that ass? Good god . And that Stern Brunch Daddy thing he had going on? Lord . The Destroyer of Ovaries moniker wasn’t just a pithy remark—I was pretty sure it was actually true.

But I guess her setting this whole thing up meant she was a good friend. Yeah, technically , I probably did need a job and money and, you know, a place to live or whatever more than I needed a dicking down that would rearrange my chakras and my guts.

Thank god one of us was an adult and could see past the sex haze.

At 4:07, I strode up the steps of the quaint Cape Cod.

Navy blue with white shutters, empty flower boxes clinging to the windows, and a porch dusted with snow.

Yeah, technically, I was late. It was for a good reason, though.

I’d had to turn around to grab my unicorn lunch box—aka the Kid Dazzler—because it never missed.

Was it overkill? Maybe. Probably.

But I hadn’t yet met a child who wasn’t enamored with at least one thing inside my magical kit, and I wasn’t about to break that streak today when my homed status hung in the balance.

I rang the bell and plastered on my brightest smile, ready to charm.

Xander Steele swung open the door wearing an expression that perfectly mirrored his name.

Fortunately, my smile didn’t waver, even while faced with his glower—a glower that only deepened as he swept his gaze over me from head to toe.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice sharp and commanding. “And you’re wearing pajamas.”

I glanced down at my leggings and oversized hoodie with an owl on the front proclaiming, Owl always be reading . “This is my power suit but make it cozy. Believe me, it’s way too cold to wear my pajamas outside. You remember…you’ve seen them.”

A spark of heat lit in his eyes, but it was there and gone so fast I wasn’t sure I hadn’t imagined it. Except the way my nipples responded made me think I definitely hadn’t.

“And sorry about being late. I had to grab my briefcase.” I held up the vintage metal box and tapped my fingernails against it. “We ready to get this party started?”

He studied me for long moments, those obscenely muscled arms crossed over his obscenely muscled chest and that glower telling me without words to be a good girl. “ That is your briefcase? Doesn’t look like any briefcase I’ve ever seen.”

“And exactly how many professional kid wranglers have you been in the company of, Chief? Boring leather briefcases aren’t gonna cut it when you’re dealing with preschoolers.”

He clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring as he blew out what was very clearly an aggravated sigh. “Let’s get this over with,” he muttered and held the door open wide for me.

Right. He’d clearly already decided he wasn’t going to hire me, so I definitely had my work cut out for me with this one. Challenge accepted, Glower Ranger.

I stepped into the incredibly tidy, incredibly structured, incredibly boring home, and spotted a little girl. Her dark-brown hair was pulled back in a disaster of a ponytail, and she peeked out at me from behind a throw pillow, her green eyes wide.

Two seconds in Emma’s presence, and I knew Sutton’s assessment of her had been spot-on. Though I didn’t blame the girl. Losing her mom and moving across the country with a father she’d never met before would have been scary for anybody, let alone a four-year-old.

Fortunately, this wasn’t my first run-in with a shy kid. The key was not to overwhelm them. And to be intriguing enough to entice them to come to you.

So, instead of approaching her, I sank down onto the floor. Sitting cross-legged, I flipped open the latch of my kid dazzler kit and began rummaging around inside until I found what I needed. I pulled out the small notepad and a handful of crayons, scattering them on the floor next to me.

Then, without a word, I started drawing while humming and minding my own damn business.

“What the hell are you doing?” Xander asked.

I glanced up to find him looming over me, arms crossed, that scowl firmly in place. Shrugging a single shoulder, I turned my attention back to the paper and continued drawing. “Waiting for the interview to start. This is my pregame ritual. Helps me focus—really get in the zone, you know?”

Now it wasn’t just his face I had to contend with—I could actually feel the waves of irritation rolling off him. Didn’t matter, though. I knew it wasn’t my job to impress Xander in this interview.

My job was to win over Emma.

And I’d never met a four-year-old who was won over by prim professionalism—regardless of the fact that I couldn’t be primly professional if my collection of tarot decks depended on it.

“What’s that, Mr. Dragon?” I leaned closer to my drawing and tipped my head to the side, as if I was listening. “Oh, okay. You want glitter wings and a…butt tattoo? Well, those are bold choices, but we love a brave queen.”

Emma giggled softly from behind the pillow. And hearing that, knowing I’d earned it, was what I imagined winning gold at the Olympics felt like.

I smiled at her. “Are you laughing at my dragon’s tattoo? I think it’s ridiculous too, but who am I to argue with a mystical being?”

Emma lowered the pillow so I could see her entire face now—round cheeks, a little button nose, and green eyes that couldn’t quite hide her sadness.

I raised a brow at her and tipped my head toward the picture. “You wanna help?”

Rather than answer, she pushed aside the pillow and scooted off the couch. She took a few tentative steps toward me before sitting on the floor just out of reach. After only a moment’s hesitation, she grabbed a sparkly purple crayon and held it out toward me.

“Ohh, glitter . A girl after my own heart. You have amazing dragon instincts. I think that’ll be the perfect color for his wings.”

“He needs sparkles.”

“Finally, someone with some vision! He absolutely needs sparkles. Everyone needs sparkles, am I right?”

Emma’s grin widened, and she offered a small nod before scooting forward on her knees. “Can I draw the wings?”

“Only if you promise to help me name him. He needs something magical and majestic. Like Sir Waddlesnoot.”

That earned me another giggle.

“That’s a dignified name for a dignified dragon, don’t you think?” I pointed to where she drew what I assumed was a crown on his head. “Have you done this before? You’re very good at it.”

Emma smiled and leaned over the paper, all of her attention focused on our make-believe creature.

“I can tell Sir Waddlesnoot approves too. He’s very confident in your artistic ability.”

Xander cleared his throat, and I glanced up to find him watching us from the doorway, arms still crossed, an unreadable expression on his face. He split his gaze between me and his daughter before straightening and tipping his head toward the other room. “We should talk.”

I couldn’t tell a damn thing from his tone. But I had a fifty-fifty chance of snagging this job. I just had to pull out all the stops.