Sera’s smiling the whole time and gets up, leaning over the kitchen counter following Matty’s orders to get the napkins and cutlery. She’s so damn adorable right now, listening to him like he isn’t four years old and doesn’t have a say in what she does, but just follows suit like it’s no big deal.
I swipe her hand and land a kiss in the middle of her palm. Her fingers curl over it like she’s trying to keep it safe. Don’t beat your chest, don’t do it.
She actually looks surprised, her eyes are wide and her voice soft when she says, “Uh...what did you do that for?”
Because you’re hot enough that if we were alone right now, I’d have you over this counter, uh, if you’d let me. Because you’re sweet to the kid, because you’re sweet in general, and I never wanted to OD on sugar so bad.
I can’t stop touching her, my thumb tracing the bumps of her knuckles, hoping she feels a sliver of what she gave me last night. I wouldn’t mind seeing Sera out of control; hell, I wouldn’t mind it one fucking bit.
“I invited you for dinner, not to set my table. Matty can do it. Have a seat.”
Sera gets to the table without saying another word to me, and I give Matty the rest of the plates when he comes back for them, pretending the floor’s ice in his sock-feet. I pay for the pizza, and bring the box over to the table after having re-cut all the slices.
The kid starts with his daily adventures, and he looks happy enough that Sera seems to be the only one listening. I can’t help but watch her face for reactions, her expressions, the way she doesn’t mind having a legit conversation with a little kid.
“We made Play-Doh, but it didn’t come from the yellow jar!”
Shit, she actually looks completely interested. I can’t even fake it that well.
“Then, where did it come from, little man?”
“I made it!” Matty points at himself. Sera’s eyebrows pop high like she can’t believe it. “Yeah! I made it. Out of flour and some other stuff, and I painted it blue with red swirls. Then it turned purple!”
“Sounds like fun,” she says, nibbling on her slice of pizza. Oh, man, does she not like it? Hawaiian pizza isn’t for everyone, you asshole, why didn’t you get an all-dressed one, too? Then I get distracted by her teeth tearing the pizza and I’m having a hard time concentrating on keeping the blood above my waist.
“It was. It was.” Matty chews on his piece then looks at me like he’s waiting for story-time. Kid, don’t do it, I don’t want to talk about it…
“And you, Daddy? What did you do?”
Shit! He conned me, my own nephew conned me! Stall, here, wipe your mouth, and think of a good answer.
I’m not coming up with a good answer.
“Nothing special, buddy.” My pizza’s really interesting. Check out how much cheese they piled on top this time around. Which means I gotta adjust my insulin later - don’t forget, MacLaine.
“What did you do today, Hunt?” Sera asks, and I have to look up, making sure my mouth’s not open and she can’t see what I’m chewing. I’m grabbing my napkin like it’s personally called my mother a whore, and the plate was in on the name-calling, too.
Stop it. Just say the truth. Worst she can do is laugh. And laugh some more.
“Construction. I work in construction.” That’s what happens when you barely finish post-secondary education ‘cause your body’s fucking with you.
I look at Sera’s face, the way the colour blooms on her cheeks, the way she’s stopped chewing and isn’t really looking at me, but stuck somewhere in her head – hopefully with me front and center.
“Cool,” she murmurs, taking a chug of her water… like she’s trying to cool down. Jesus Christ, is she thinking about me?
“Sera? Can you read to me again tonight?” Matty asks, completely stealing all her attention, when all I want to do is press the advantage, and press, and press…
“Sure, kid. Peter Pan again, or something else?” She looks at me and I give the nod, because hell yeah, I want her here as long as possible. After she reads to Matty means there’s time for adult conversations, or hell, zero conversations at all. My skin’s tight and I can’t look away from her mouth.
I hardly hear Matty having a hard time.
“I...” Matty blows out air, carefully placing his pizza down on the plate. The kid doesn’t stop eating unless it’s important. Rewind – what did she ask him? C’mon, man, you can’t have blanked out this bad.
“I don’t want the story to end just yet. Can you read me something else?”