Page 9

Chapter Nine

BODE

I think he’s asleep. I start to move and he doesn’t stir.

Thank God.

Shifting Caleb in my arms, I walk as slowly and quietly as possible toward his crib and lay him on his back. He lets out a soft breath, his little face heavy with sleep.

I can’t help but stare down at him. It’s been a couple of months, but it feels like I’ve finally got a hold on these things.

Now, when he cries and I pick him up, he cuddles into me. Maybe it means he likes me? God, I hope it does because I’m realizing I’m starting to like this dad gig.

Fucking love.

Heading out of his room, I shut the door and jog down the stairs. The house is quiet. Looking out at the pool house, it’s dark. Knowing Gran and Deb, they’re out.

Who knew she would have more of a social life now than I do?

Grabbing a few beers from the fridge, I head out into the warm night. The heat of the day has finally loosened its stronghold and it feels comfortable.

Stretching out onto one of the pool chairs, I crack open a bottle and take a long pull.

Fuck. This feels good. My body is tired from practice. Getting back into workouts after the offseason is always hard. Especially now that I’m doing it on so little sleep.

The chirping of cicadas fills the air. Fireflies are lighting up the early night sky. Taking a deep breath, I revel in the peace. It feels good. No, great even.

This isn’t something I ever thought I’d want. Before Caleb, I never would have thought about spending a night at home by myself. If I was, it usually was because I couldn’t find anyone to hit up the bars with me. I always liked having someone with me. Made it easier to pick up women. Didn’t hurt that I was a hockey player.

It makes me sound like a dick, but they knew the stakes. They knew what they were getting with me—one night, no strings attached. That’s how I lived my life.

No emotions. No attachments.

I now have the biggest attachment of all.

Checking the baby monitor, I smile at the sleeping kid. He really is cute.

The back door opens and closes followed by the sound of flip-flops slapping on the flagstone. I turn to see Stevie illuminated by the lights spilling out of the living room, making her look like an angel.

“Hey.”

I don’t want to startle her, but she jumps anyway.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you there.” She turns back toward the house. “I don’t want to bother you.”

“Hey, join me.” I grab one of the beers and hold it out to her.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t mind the company.”

She grabs the bottle and plops down into the seat next to me. “Thanks.”

“Cheers.”

“I feel like I should be buying you beers,” Stevie says, taking a sip of her pale ale.

“Because I’m letting you stay here?” I ask, quirking a brow at her.

She laughs. A warm sound that feels like bourbon on a cold night. Soothing and sweet.

“I meant because I was going to use your pool. I can’t remember the last time I went for a swim.”

“Oh, right. Well, you’re welcome to use it.”

The thought of her using it? Stripping down to a bikini? It has dirty things rolling through my head. Things I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about.

“Listen, I don’t know much about you. Tell me something.” Stevie’s eyes sparkle in the quickly darkening night.

“What do you want to know about me?”

She laughs. Again with that laugh that does funny things to my insides. “You were terrible at getting-to-know-you games in school, weren’t you?”

I shrug a shoulder. “I was great at my favorite hockey player, but it didn’t come up much.”

“Okay, so who’s your favorite hockey player?” She quirks a brow, bringing the bottle to her lips and taking a sip.

Does she realize what she’s doing? The mind games she’s playing with me with one innocent move?

Stevie may look pure enough, but I bet there’s a devious streak inside her.

“Bobby Orr.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

I groan. “Of course you don’t. God, I have so much to teach you.”

“Sorry. If you want a favorite Spice Girl, or which version of Pride and Prejudice is better, I’m your girl.”

“ Pride and Prejudice ?” I ask. Now I’m the confused one.

“You don’t know Pride and Prejudice ? You never read it in school?”

I shake my head, gulping down my beer. “If we had to read something in school, it was likely that I got the summary online.”

“You missed out.”

I nod. “How about an easy one. Favorite game?”

Stevie sets down her beer and folds her legs together on the chair. The T-shirt she’s wearing slides down her arm, exposing the graceful line of her shoulder. All that tender skin there is begging to be sucked.

Shifting on my chair, I push that thought out of my head.

“I’m very good at games. Sorry is my best game. I always win.”

“You always win? I don’t believe you.”

“I’m serious. Sorry is my jam. If I had it with me, I’d kick your ass tonight.”

“Well, maybe if we played The Game of Life, I’d kick your ass.”

“That is all luck,” Stevie points out.

“How is Sorry not?” I throw back at her.

“It’s more strategic. Which piece to move once you get out.”

“Keyword once you get out,” I tell her. “Luck.”

“So you think.”

I smile at the woman sitting next to me. Who knew it could be so fun talking about board games?

“Favorite sports team?” I ask.

The grin splits her face. Her hair is piled on top of her head, and sitting here in the soft, evening light, she looks stunning.

“Black Diamonds.”

“A knife through the heart.” I feign hurt. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“It’s the only team I could think of. My friend Crestina’s fiancé is from Denver and loves them.”

“Well, you’ll have to bring them over and we’ll convince him otherwise.”

“Deal.” She smiles back at me. “Here’s one for you. Favorite meal to cook?”

“Oh God.” I bury my hands in my face. “This is embarrassing.”

“Let me guess…you’re not a chef?”

“No. I have a nutritionist prepare all my meals for me. I figure it’s easier than trying to cook for myself.”

“Hmm.” Stevie’s beer bottle hangs from her fingertips. A pensive look washes over her face. “Filing that away for later.”

“What do you mean later?” I ask.

“Well, I have a go-to meal that I’m great at cooking. I don’t get a chance to make it very often, so maybe I can teach you something.”

“Nice. I mean, fun. Good.” I cough, trying to cover up the bumbling idiot I’ve become. How can one woman turn me into such a mess? “That sounds good.”

Stevie is clearly trying to hold in her laughter. “Great. It’s the least I can do. I can’t let poor Caleb starve when he gets older because his dad can’t cook.”

“Hey. He’s not even nine months old yet. Let’s not go turning him into a teen just yet.”

Stevie drains the last of her beer and reaches for another. “Mind if I have one more?”

“Sure.”

“I know you didn’t get Caleb all that long ago, but is it weird thinking of him growing up?”

I peel at the label of the bottle. “Yeah. I mean, he’s this tiny little thing, but his personality is already starting to come out. Is he going to be like me? More like his mom?”

“What were you like in high school?”

That has laughter bursting out of me. “God, I was terrible. I think I gave Gran more gray hairs my junior year than she’s gotten her entire life.”

“I can see it.”

“Hey. I can’t imagine little Stevie was a saint back then.”

“I was.” She waggles her eyebrows at me. “I couldn’t stand the thought of getting yelled at, so I never got into trouble. Never broke curfew. Never drank. I was an angel.”

“Of course you were. I’m picturing you in the library during school, doing your studying and getting ahead on homework.”

“There was nothing wrong with trying,” she defends. “I was never a great student, so I had to work. I hated school.”

“Is that why you’re an aesthetician now?”

“More or less. I enjoy what I do.”

“Tell me about it.” Shifting in my chair, I turn to meet her gaze.

“I like people. I like getting to work with them and help them if they’re having trouble with their skin. I want to help them feel beautiful.”

“I’m sure you are good at that. And what makes you feel beautiful?” The words are spilling from my lips before I can stop them. I can see the question catching her off guard.

“Right. I should probably get to bed. I have an early day tomorrow.” Stevie grabs her empty beer bottles and hops out of the chair like it lit her on fire.

“You don’t have to go.” I jump up, trying to stop her but she’s faster. She’s scurrying inside before I can convince her to stay.

Damn it.

The night air is choking now, so thick I can see it. Just when I thought we were having a real conversation, she runs off.

I want to know all about this woman. Every scrap. Every seed. Anything she’ll give me.

How can I be so taken with one woman I barely know?

Sighing, I gather up the remaining beer bottles and head inside. After spending this little time with Stevie, I realize I have to take my time with her. Something has scared her off, and I want to know what that is.

I will figure out my roommate if it’s the last thing I do.