Nice and Easy: Boys of the Big Easy book three Page 7

  Holy shit. On second thought, he did need something to drink. Like whiskey. Or maybe some of the schnapps from last night.

  Which made him think of bubblegum. Which made him think of how Lexi had tasted last night. And how he didn’t think he’d ever get his fill.

  Caleb reached for Shay’s sippy cup, unscrewed the top, and downed the orange juice.

  “You should play it again with your friend. You’re probably good at it,” Shay told her.

  In spite of the fact that Shay was hardly an unbiased opinion—his niece thought Lexi walked on water—Caleb was quite certain Lexi was damned good at it.

  “But I think he’s worried that if we play that game together, it might make the other things we do, not as good anymore.”

  Shay seemed confused about that and Caleb almost laughed. She should be confused about that. People who liked each other were supposed to play games together, and playing together made people like each other more, not less.

  “My friend Kayla is a brat when we play hide-and-seek,” Shay said. “I don’t like to play that with her. But I like to play in the sandbox with her.”

  Or maybe his four-year-old niece completely understood the world and relationships in a way Caleb simply didn’t.

  What was that famous poem? About learning everything you needed to know in kindergarten? Looked like Shay had figured life out even before kindergarten. And this was why he wasn’t worried about her. Or hadn’t been. Until Jack had carried a huge armful of books across the room without help or tipping over. Shay couldn’t do that. She also couldn’t sort all of her shape blocks by color. But Jack could. Still, Shay was a bright, sweet, happy little girl. Until she was trying to do something that was hard. Or when she had an emotion that she didn’t know how to handle. But wasn’t that essentially true of everyone? Caleb had told himself that she was completely fine.

  It was definitely a bit of denial…mixed with him not knowing what the fuck he was doing.

  He blew out a breath. Damn, this was going to be hard.

  He really liked when things were easy. When he thought he had it all handled. When he felt on top of things and like the fixer and protector he wanted to be.

  Fuck.

  “It’s just like you and Kayla,” Lexi told Shay. “Some friends you play hide-and-seek with. Other friends you play in the sandbox with.”

  Caleb frowned. He fucking wanted to play all the games with Lexi. And he sure as fuck didn’t want Lexi playing any games with anyone else. He wanted hide-and-seek and the sandbox and TAG and any other damned thing that girl would ever want to play. And he’d be the best playmate she’d ever had.

  “Is your friend a brat sometimes?” Shay asked Lexi.

  Lexi smirked as she lifted her coffee cup. But he saw it.

  “Yes, he is definitely a brat sometimes.”

  Well, that was nicer than over-protective asshole, he supposed.

  “He should play a different game with you then,” Shay said. “You should still be friends.”

  Lexi nodded. “You’re a sweetie, Shay.”

  Yeah, he had a whole list of games he and Lex could try. Caleb couldn’t help the thought. He shifted on his chair. This was a dangerous conversation to be having with a two- and four-year-old around.

  “Do you want some strawberries?” Lexi asked Shay and Jack, avoiding Caleb’s gaze, changing the subject just like that.

  “Yes!” Jack shouted.

  “Yes,” Shay said.

  And they were off the playing-games-with-people-who-didn’t-want-to-play-with-you conversation. Except that Caleb was not as easily distracted.

  Lexi went to the fridge and retrieved the strawberries from the drawer. She went to the sink, washed them, then transferred them to the cutting board. She started taking the stems off and slicing the berries as Caleb watched her, absently handing Jack pieces of banana and pushing Shay’s toast closer so she’d finish it.

  “Did you put your hands on Uncle Caleb when he carried you upstairs?” Shay suddenly asked.

  He saw Lexi freeze just before he looked at his niece.

  Lexi looked over her shoulder. “What, honey?”

  “Is that why you got hot?” Shay put a bite of eggs in her mouth, looking at Lexi innocently. “When my hands get cold, I put them on his neck and they get warm fast.”

  Lexi coughed and turned back to the strawberries. He heard her swear softly and move toward the sink. He covered the curse with, “Your cold hands on my neck make me cold, you know,” he told Shay, leaning toward her.

  She dodged his tickle-fingers with a giggle. “Did Lexi make you cold?”

  Well, that was a definite no. He glanced over at Lexi. She reached for a paper towel.

  “No,” he said honestly. “Lexi didn’t make me cold at all.”

  He saw Lexi’s shoulders rise and fall as she took a deep breath. She moved back to the cutting board full of strawberries. He watched her for a second, realizing that something looked awkward about what she was doing. “Lex?” he asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “You okay?”

  She sighed. “Yeah. I just need to run upstairs. Can you finish these?”

  He got up and crossed to her. “What’s going on?”

  She held up her hand. “I just cut my finger.”

  He saw the red stain coming through the white towel and his heart lurched. It was a finger. A paring knife cut. Nothing horrible. But he reached for her immediately. And she pulled back.

  He lifted a brow. No. Lexi wasn’t going to pull back. Not figuratively or literally. “Don’t,” he admonished softly.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “There’s nothing you need to do.”

  And suddenly they were not talking about the cut.

  “There is if you’re hurt.”

  “I’m fine. I’ve got this.” She started to turn away.

  He caught her wrist. “Lex.”

  She stopped and sucked in a breath. But he knew he hadn’t hurt her finger. He had, however, hurt her feelings.

  “Let me take care of you.”

  She pressed her lips together and looked up at him. “I need to stop needing you to do that all the time.”

  His gut twisted.

  “I can handle it,” she said. “I know what I’m doing here.”

  He tugged her over to the cupboard where he kept first aid supplies anyway. He had stuff upstairs, too, but it didn’t hurt to have things readily available all over the house. “I’m a first responder,” he reminded her. Maybe he couldn’t fix what she saw as a rejection last night—at least not at this very moment—but he could fucking fix her finger.

  “And I’m a nurse.” She let him move her toward the cupboard, though. “You guys just keep people going until they can get to us, right?”

  That was true. And he was a firefighter first. The majority of the calls they went on were medical emergencies as opposed to fires, and he was trained as a first responder, as were all the firefighters, but he wasn’t the main medic on the team, and the ambulance always rolled out with them to medical calls. He could keep someone alive until the ambulance arrived—usually…probably—if needed, but he was a lot better with the hoses. And for a second, he thought about saying that. Trying to recapture the teasing and innuendo from earlier.

  But Lexi was bleeding and he needed to be the one to fix it.

  “I think I’ve seen more blood than you have, Lex. I’ve been doing this for ten years. You just started.” He peeled the paper towel away from her finger. The cut was small but deep. He frowned. “I should glue this.”

  “You’re not gluing it,” she said, tugging on her wrist. “I’m fine.”

  “Like I said,” he told her, looking up. “I’ve done this more than you have.”

  “It’s a cut. On my finger,” she said.

  “That might need glue.”

  “Caleb,” she told him, her voice firm. “If you come at me with glue, I will—”
She glanced in the direction of the kids. “Put my knee somewhere you don’t want it to be.”

  He felt his eyes widen. Wow. Lexi had never thought she knew better than him about something. Damn, she was feisty this morning. And Lexi was never feisty.

  At least that he knew of.

  “What’s your problem?” he asked. “I’m trying to help.”

  “I’m a nurse,” she said. “I think I know when a cut, especially on my own finger needs glue. And I can put a bandage on myself.”

  That irritated him. And he couldn’t even say why. Because of course she could. Even without her medical training.

  “What would be helpful would be if you’d go cut up the strawberries,” she said.

  He let go of her and stepped back, hands up. “Fine. Do it yourself.” He stomped over to the cutting board. He tossed the knife she’d been using into the sink and grabbed another one, slamming the drawer harder than necessary.

  “Use the kitty Band-Aids,” Shay said from the table. “They’re the best ones.”

  “Thanks, honey, I will,” Lexi said.

  Caleb chopped up the strawberries and dumped them into a bowl. There, at least he was useful for that. And why he was acting, and feeling, like this, he couldn’t have explained for a million dollars. Unless he was being honest with himself and admitted that he was mad because Lexi hadn’t let him help her. And he really needed to feel helpful this morning.

  But that didn’t make him feel better, so he decided not to be honest with himself.

  Lexi bandaged her finger as he carried the bowl over to the table, then Lexi took the chair next to Jack.

  “Uncle Caleb has to kiss it better,” Shay said, reaching for the strawberries. “That’s what he does after Band-Aids.”

  Lexi looked up at him, her cheeks suddenly pink. “Oh, but I kiss both you and Jack after Band-Aids,” she said. She lifted her finger to her lips and kissed it. “See? All better.”

  Spurred on by all the emotion of the last two days, Caleb caught her hand and bent as he lifted it. He met her eyes and said, “I don’t think kissing yourself counts.” Then he pressed her finger against his lips. He lingered there, watching her as her eyes locked on his mouth. He saw her swallow and her hand seemed to instinctively curl around his.

  When he finally let her go, Shay announced, “There. All better.”

  Lexi slowly nodded as he straightened. “Sure. All better.”

  He gave her a half grin. “Glad I could help.”

  Caleb did always make things better. Sure, the kiss on her finger had made all kinds of sparks and tingles go racing through her body. And now she was thinking about all of the other places she’d like to have his mouth. But she definitely wasn’t thinking about the stinging from her cut anymore. Or even, much, about her annoyance over the cut and Band-Aid and everything.

  That was still there, though, at the back of her mind. She’d cut her damned finger because of Shay’s comments about Lexi putting her hands on Caleb. Then he’d completely overreacted about her possibly needing glue. For God’s sake. She would have known if she needed glue. And she would have taken care of it.

  But she’d almost let him do it.

  That was the most irritating part of all. She’d almost let him glue the little cut on her finger because she knew how much he loved taking care of her. It also felt really freaking good to have Caleb Moreau fussing over her. She figured the tough, life-saving hero wouldn’t love the term “fussing,” but it was exactly what he did sometimes. And dammit, it was nice.

  It was also a little pathetic. Except that it really worked for both of them.

  Right now, he was upstairs showering and Lexi was sitting on the floor by the coffee table in the living room where she could see the kids playing in the next room, but could spread the newspaper out to look for apartments at the same time.

  She wasn’t sure she’d ever been more distracted in her life.

  She’d drawn twenty-seven circles around the same apartment listing in the paper. And it certainly wasn’t an apartment worthy of twenty-seven circles.

  Of course, it wasn’t entirely her fault. It was biology that she was attracted to Caleb. He had all the characteristics of the alpha that appealed to women on a primal level. He was a protector, a provider. He commanded attention. He’d stepped in to raise his niece. He walked into fires to save lives. And he had really great hands. Big, and a little rough, strong, confident, and yet very gentle when he was playing with or taking care of Jack and Shay. And yeah, hot. His hands were hot. Literally and figuratively. So was his mouth. She’d replayed last night and the feel of his hands and mouth on her, the dirty words, the way he’d looked at her like he’d never seen anything he wanted more, a million times since waking up.

  If she wasn’t attracted to him, she’d wonder what was wrong with her. It was like her ovaries…and her nipples…strained toward him whenever he was around. And now he was naked and wet just upstairs. She groaned and leaned to put her forehead on the table, thunking it a couple of times against the hard surface on the off chance that it might help. Though with what she wasn’t sure. She didn’t really want to not be attracted to him.

  She just wanted him to be attracted back.

  She just wanted to make their pseudo-family into a real one.

  She just wanted him to be madly in love with her.

  She gave her head one more thunk against the table.

  She just wasn’t used to being here with him. She’d always loved being surrounded by his things and his scent and the pieces of his life that were obvious here—his hunting gear in the garage, his favorite foods in the kitchen, his running shoes by the front door—but he was never here when she was but for the few minutes by the front door. So now she felt jumpy and distracted. Especially after the kiss last night, and the stupid kiss on her finger this morning. How could those two things be equally affecting?

  Lexi sighed and watched the kids for a minute. They’d set up the miniature soccer goal and the six little balls that went with it.

  She heard the water shut off upstairs and pictured Caleb reaching for a towel and wrapping it around his waist. She thought about him leaning over the sink to look into the mirror while he trimmed his beard, and she realized that she wanted to watch that. That beard did things to her and she was fascinated by it.

  One of the little soccer balls bounced off the wall and came rolling into the living room, and Lexi saw that she’d started drawing circles around another apartment listing while daydreaming about Caleb and his beard. She’d tuned right back in to Caleb the second she heard a sound from the upper floor.

  Damn, that right there was a good reason she couldn’t stay here. If he was in the house, the kids could be setting things on fire five feet away and she wouldn’t notice.

  She glanced over at Jack and Shay. They were fine. They were right there and nothing was burning. But then she heard Caleb’s footsteps overhead and sighed. Caleb was right there, too, and if the past was any indication of how things would go, she’d never not be able to tune in to him if he was near.

  There was something about him that just made people listen. He said things in this firm, confident way, but with a true concern tingeing the edges that made her melt. When Caleb said he was going to do something, he did it, and when he wanted to take care of you, there wasn’t a lot you could do about it.

  But he really wasn’t a very good listener, come to think of it.

  She frowned and circled the apartment listing again. When he made his mind up about something, it was really hard to change it.

  Not that she ever argued very hard with him. It was like she had this instinct to please him. To make sure that he was happy. And the best way to make him happy was for him to think she was happy.

  It sounded nice—them wanting to make each other happy.

  And also sounded kind of messed up.

  And embarrassing when she thought about the things he’d asked her last night and how willing she’d been to do a
ny and all of it. It was no wonder he thought she was a crazy wannabe girlfriend.

  Because she was.

  Yes, there was a part of her that wanted Caleb to just take over and take care of her in the bedroom the way he did everywhere else.

  Lexi realized she was almost breaking through the thin newsprint with her repeated circles. She laid the pen down and sighed, massaging her temples. She turned her head and watched Shay and Jack kicking the balls into the net, trying to focus on the two little people who had brought her and Caleb together instead of the man upstairs who caused so many complicated emotions for her.

  The playroom was supposed to have been a formal dining room, but Caleb—or maybe his sister—had decided the wide-open room just off the living room on one side and the kitchen on the other was the perfect place to put Shay’s toys. Either way, it made the big, old house a lot less assuming. With the right table, that room could easily seat twenty people for a holiday feast. But the toy box, the sunshine yellow, kid-sized picnic table, and the brightly colored plastic tubs of art supplies and puzzles and books made it seem like a home.

  The room was big enough that the kids could play with balls if they didn’t get too crazy, and Caleb had set the soccer goal on the end away from the other rooms so the wall would stop any errant kicks. Once the kids were older and kicking and throwing harder, they’d have to move the sporting activities outside, but for now there wasn’t much they could hurt.

  Lexi frowned as Jack kicked the ball into the net. She was impressed with his seemingly natural abilities to catch, throw, and kick. According to the child development stuff she’d read—for class and for mom-hood—Jack was ahead of the average for his age. But he wasn’t the one she was really watching now. Shay was having a hard time with the kicking. It was as if when she tried to swing her leg, it threw her balance off. She managed to stay upright, but the ball barely rolled.

  Lexi resisted the urge to go over and help her. This wasn’t the first time she’d noticed Shay having trouble with something, but she knew that kids needed to figure things out on their own sometimes. Shay was perfectly safe, but Lexi’s protective instincts with that little girl were incredibly strong, and Lexi knew she was just overreacting to watching Shay struggle.