As he ran a hand through his hair, tugging the shoelace out, I had a fleeting fantasy of running my own fingers through it. Startled, I shivered.
“Are you okay?”
I hoped he wouldn’t notice my heated cheeks. “I’m fine. But I don’t think a swimming pool is a good idea.” My panic made me sound bitchy.
He sighed and looked out the window, then turned back to me, eyes narrowed. “I’m teaching Max to swim, you know. And I’m a certified lifeguard. They’ll be fine.”
How many secrets could a person keep inside before they came shooting out like a geyser? “I just…just don’t want to.”
A long silence stretched between us.
“Fine. We’ll do it your way.” He stood up and stalked to the family room, where he plopped on the couch.
I felt awful. But I couldn’t bring myself to apologize for snapping, or to explain why I didn’t want to go to the pool. I didn’t want his pity.
The only sound was the muffled giggling from the kids playing upstairs.
Slade’s phone pinged and I watched him text someone. Alex? A girl? Girls? I wondered what he was texting. Probably, Save me from the psycho Bird Brain.
Footsteps thudded on the stairs, then the kids streaked into the kitchen. For real. Neither one of them had a stitch of clothing on.
“Gillian! Max!” I pointed toward the hallway. “Both of you. Get dressed right now or we won’t have any fun today.”
“What are we doing, anyway?” Gillian asked.
“I’ll tell you after you’re dressed.”
She and Max looked at each other. Neither of them moved.
Slade sauntered over, looking completely unfazed by the naked kids. He leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “We’re going to watch a movie. But only if you’re dressed.”
The kids jumped up and down. “Movie! Movie!” Max shouted. I’d never seen him so excited.
“What movie?” Gillian asked.
Slade shot a wary look at me then smiled at the kids. “It’s a surprise. Go get dressed.”
They tore out of the room like Olympic racers and thundered up the stairs.
“It’s not too late, Trina. You can still change your mind. Watch the boring documentary, or swim?”
Why was he so stubborn about getting his way? I shook my head. “If you’d bothered to crack the binder I gave you, you’d know that swimming is nowhere on the schedule.” I glanced at my watch. “In fact, we were supposed to start the film fifteen minutes ago.”
His grin was disgustingly sexy, even when he rolled his eyes. “I feel sorry for your future husband. You should come with a warning label stamped on your forehead.”
Anger flared in my chest. “You need a warning label, too,” I shot back.
He cocked an eyebrow, still grinning. “Yeah? What would mine say?”
Warning: Player. Slacker. Smart-ass. Lazy. Sexy. Wait, what? “Never mind,” I muttered.
He laughed softly. “You really need to lighten up, Clemons. I’m just messing with you.” He took a step toward me. “So, how about a swim?” His eyes scanned me from head to toe. “You could work on your tan.”
I crossed my arms protectively. “I don’t tan.”
His eyes, full of challenge, locked onto mine. “So I noticed.”
I swallowed. “I’m not interested in getting skin cancer.”
He took another step toward me, and I caught a whiff of his scent. Was that cologne? Soap? Whatever it was, it smelled really good. My legs suddenly felt wobbly.
“What’s up, BB?” He stood way too close. “What aren’t you telling me? I can tell you’re hiding something. You’re acting weirder than usual.”
A gasp escaped me before I could stop it. “Did you just… Are you calling me Bird Brain to my face?”
He smirked. “Not exactly. But you’re getting the general idea.”
My hand itched to slap him. But the way he was looking at me set off an internal fire, and not an angry one.
“Movie!” Gillian shrieked at the top of her lungs, screeching to a stop right between us.
Max walked calmly into the room, carrying a stuffed pink dinosaur. “Can we have popcorn, Trina? Please?” His voice was a whisper, and he bit his lip.
Was Max scared of me? My heart thudded to my feet. I dropped to my knees and looked into his big brown eyes. “Yes, of course we can, Max. What’s a movie without it?”
He gave me a tentative smile. I reached out to touch his dinosaur. “What’s his name?”
“Her name is Peggy. It’s short for pegasaurus.”
I glanced at Slade, who studied me closely. I turned back to Max, flustered by Slade’s intense gaze. I didn’t want him trying to figure me out.