Perfect Catch(50)

When they were both spent, he disappeared into her bathroom and came back moments later, strutting through the room, unapologetic in his nudity. She marveled at him, watching him move through her sleep-heavy eyes.

“Nice ass,” she teased.

“Yours ain’t so bad either.” He gave it a playful smack.

When he settled in behind her and tugged her against him, she didn’t hear the logical part of her brain suggest sending him home. Which was good. Because she would probably have told her brain to go fuck itself if it had tried.

She fell asleep with his arms wrapped around her.

What did her brain know, anyway?





Chapter Twenty-Two

Nine-year-olds were terrifying creatures.

Olivia leveled Alex with an unflinching stare, and the bruising on her face only managed to make her all the more intimidating. For such a slight girl, she had Alex squirming in his seat.

Did she know why he was there? He didn’t know what kids understood about sex, and hoped Liv was blissfully unaware of most aspects of it, but still…she had to think there was something unusual about his presence at the breakfast table.

He felt guilty.

Liv ate her oatmeal, the sludge giving off an appealing cinnamon-maple scent, but the sight of the cereal had made Alex’s stomach churn ever since his sister told him as a child it was made of dehydrated brain. It looked like she was only chewing with one side of her mouth though, so maybe she was being limited to soft stuff.

Instead of focusing on her meal, she continued to keep both eyes on Alex, and with each passing second he wondered what the children’s version of a scarlet letter was, and how large the one on his forehead must be.

“So…” He started to speak, hoping he might come up with something clever as the words came out, but he drew a complete blank. “How are you feeling?”

Olivia shrugged. “Better.” She mumbled the word around a mouthful of oatmeal. “Mom said I can probably go back to school soon.”

Alice sat down at the table, handing Alex a toasted bagel and a cup of steaming-hot coffee, an identical breakfast in front of her. “We’re going to wait until the bruises go down a bit first though. Don’t want anyone thinking you’re a little street fighter, do we?”

“You’re just afraid they’ll think you hit me.” Though the words were said with a pout, there was a teasing tone to Liv’s voice suggesting she was pulling her mother’s leg.

Alice, for her part, laughed and ruffled her daughter’s wild hair. “Glad to see your sense of humor wasn’t damaged in the accident.”

Olivia sniffed. “Neither were my taste buds.”

Alice smiled. “All right there, sassy. Eat your oatmeal. No complaining.”

Liv made a face but continued to fill her mouth. Alex took a big sip from the coffee, hoping it would keep him from saying anything else stupid.

“What are you doing here?” Liv asked bluntly.

“Olivia.”

“I mean in Florida,” she clarified. “Don’t you play in California?” She looked at her mother, both eyebrows raised as if saying, See, I wasn’t being rude.

“Oh.” Alex prodded his bagel, wishing he’d taken a big bite to give him longer to come up with a response. “I wasn’t doing very well, so they sent me here until I could get better.”

Olivia nodded. “Is it working?”

Alex glanced from her to Alice and smiled in spite of his attempt to remain smooth. “Yeah. I think things are improving.”

“My dad came to see me, but then he had to go back. I thought maybe they gave you time off too, like they did for him. But I guess that means you can stay longer.”

Alice went stiff.

It hadn’t escaped Alex’s attention that the first night he’d eaten dinner with them, Alice had constantly cut off Liv’s stories about her father. At the time he’d assumed there was bad blood between the two. Maybe a bitter divorce, perhaps a sordid custody battle. The kind of things he had no place asking about.

But something about the way Liv was talking about her father tugged at his brain. Something…familiar.

He turned his attention back to Alice, whose face was now bright red, and she’d begun ripping chunks off her bagel. He wasn’t sure he was in any position to push the subject further, but if he didn’t ask, his curiosity would nag at him.

“Hey, Liv?” He spoke to the child, but his gaze remained locked on her mother. Alice lifted her eyes and watched him but didn’t make any move to stop what he was doing. “What’s your dad’s name?”

“Matt.” She ate another mouthful of oatmeal.

“Matt what?”

As Liv continued to chew, she stared at her mother for aid. “Hernandez,” Alice whispered.