Getting Hotter
Page 18
“It’s just thunder, guys,” Miranda said from the doorway.
Seth’s mouth turned to sawdust as he watched her enter the kitchen. She was wearing the clothes he’d loaned her—the pants were baggy, as he’d predicted, but he hadn’t expected the shirt to be so big too. With the top two buttons undone, the flannel neckline kept sliding off one of her shoulders, revealing her supple, tanned skin. But it was the no-bra-strap part that transformed his mouth into a sand dune. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath that shirt. Or the pants. Jesus. She was totally naked under there.
Their eyes met briefly, and Seth knew she’d read his dirty thoughts because she blushed before casting her gaze downward.
“I can’t believe how hard it’s raining.” She sank into the unoccupied chair next to her daughter’s. “Let’s just hope the flooding over at our place doesn’t get worse.”
“Did your landlord say how he planned to handle the damage?” Dylan asked, reaching for a chocolate-chip cookie and taking a bite.
“He’s trying to get a professional crew to come in this evening, if possible. If not, then it’ll happen tomorrow morning. They’ll have to pump out the water and shop-vac the place.” Her expression turned grim. “I think the biggest concern is sewage contamination and mold forming.”
She moved her gaze to the sliding door that led to the small backyard. Rivulets of rain streamed down the glass, and in the distance, the sky was a dark, ominous gray. Miranda’s face took on a faraway expression as she started mumbling under her breath.
“Who knows what might be damaged. Insulation, drywall, ceilings, floors…definitely the floors. God, and the furniture and appliances, the carpets and bedding, and our clothes and…”
She was beginning to look green, and Dylan quickly interjected. “No point in worrying about things beyond your control,” he said gently. “Tomorrow you’ll assess the damage and figure out what needs to be done. Tonight, there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“You’re right,” she agreed, albeit grudgingly.
“Mom, Sef has a ta-ttoo,” Jason blurted out.
“Seth,” Miranda corrected with a smile. “Remember we were going to try and practice our t-h sounds?”
“Seth,” Jason said slowly. Then he nodded, looking pleased with himself.
“And yes, he does have a tattoo.” She shot Seth a quick look. “Is there a story behind it?”
He shrugged. “Not really.”
“Sure there is,” Dylan said with a grin. “It’s just not kid-appropriate.”
“What’s kid-appoeperit?” Sophie asked.
“Appropriate. And it means that Seth’s story is for grown-ups,” Miranda said firmly.
Sophie twisted around in her chair and stared at Seth with a hint of contempt, as if she blamed him for not being able to hear the story. Jason, on the other hand, merely shrugged it off and reached for another cookie. Okay then. Clearly the girl was the dominant of the two, and the one he needed to watch out for. Good to know, Seth thought. A SEAL always needed to be aware of his enemies, after all.
“So…” Miranda studied the clock on the microwave display. “Huh, it’s only three o’clock. Feels much later. What should we do now?”
Dylan spoke up sheepishly. “Well, I kinda promised the squirts we would watch a movie on Netflix. As long as the power’s still on and the Internet works, we might as well take advantage of it. If that’s okay with you, of course.”
“It’s fine by me.” She turned to her kids. “Any movie ideas?”
As the twins began shouting out film titles Seth had never heard of—how was Puss in Boots age-appropriate? It sounded like p**n , for chrissake—he fought the urge to sneak out of the kitchen and hide out in his room again. Sitting around eating cookies and discussing the options for kiddie movie night was not his scene. At all.
But he forced his feet to stay rooted to the tiled floor. If he was going to succeed in finally getting Miranda naked, he needed to prove that he could be around her kids.
Jeez, is she even worth it, bro?
The thought gave him pause. He couldn’t deny that this was getting pretty f**king complicated. He was going to great lengths to get this woman in bed, even willingly spending time with an age demographic he usually avoided like the plague.
So…was she worth it?
He discreetly watched as she got up, laughing at something Sophie had said. As she helped her daughter up to her feet, Miranda’s sable-brown hair, now dry and wavy, fell forward, revealing that bare shoulder he’d been admiring earlier.
A rush of heat coursed through his blood and his c**k stirred beneath his sweatpants.
Fuck.
Of course she was worth it.
She was absolutely worth it.
Chapter Five
“Kids asleep?”
Seth’s low voice startled the hell out of her as she shut the guest room door and stepped into the corridor. Miranda’s pulse sped up when she spotted him at the end of the hall. Those magnetic gray eyes were focused on her with such intensity she felt rattled.
“Yeah.” She reluctantly walked toward him, wishing she’d decided to turn in herself. But it was barely eight forty-five and she wasn’t tired. If anything, she was wide awake and would probably stay that way for hours. The more it continued to rain, the higher her stress levels soared.
What would she find when she went home tomorrow? How much of their belongings could she actually salvage? How long would the renovations take? The floors would definitely have to be replaced, but what else?
Seth’s mouth turned to sawdust as he watched her enter the kitchen. She was wearing the clothes he’d loaned her—the pants were baggy, as he’d predicted, but he hadn’t expected the shirt to be so big too. With the top two buttons undone, the flannel neckline kept sliding off one of her shoulders, revealing her supple, tanned skin. But it was the no-bra-strap part that transformed his mouth into a sand dune. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath that shirt. Or the pants. Jesus. She was totally naked under there.
Their eyes met briefly, and Seth knew she’d read his dirty thoughts because she blushed before casting her gaze downward.
“I can’t believe how hard it’s raining.” She sank into the unoccupied chair next to her daughter’s. “Let’s just hope the flooding over at our place doesn’t get worse.”
“Did your landlord say how he planned to handle the damage?” Dylan asked, reaching for a chocolate-chip cookie and taking a bite.
“He’s trying to get a professional crew to come in this evening, if possible. If not, then it’ll happen tomorrow morning. They’ll have to pump out the water and shop-vac the place.” Her expression turned grim. “I think the biggest concern is sewage contamination and mold forming.”
She moved her gaze to the sliding door that led to the small backyard. Rivulets of rain streamed down the glass, and in the distance, the sky was a dark, ominous gray. Miranda’s face took on a faraway expression as she started mumbling under her breath.
“Who knows what might be damaged. Insulation, drywall, ceilings, floors…definitely the floors. God, and the furniture and appliances, the carpets and bedding, and our clothes and…”
She was beginning to look green, and Dylan quickly interjected. “No point in worrying about things beyond your control,” he said gently. “Tomorrow you’ll assess the damage and figure out what needs to be done. Tonight, there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“You’re right,” she agreed, albeit grudgingly.
“Mom, Sef has a ta-ttoo,” Jason blurted out.
“Seth,” Miranda corrected with a smile. “Remember we were going to try and practice our t-h sounds?”
“Seth,” Jason said slowly. Then he nodded, looking pleased with himself.
“And yes, he does have a tattoo.” She shot Seth a quick look. “Is there a story behind it?”
He shrugged. “Not really.”
“Sure there is,” Dylan said with a grin. “It’s just not kid-appropriate.”
“What’s kid-appoeperit?” Sophie asked.
“Appropriate. And it means that Seth’s story is for grown-ups,” Miranda said firmly.
Sophie twisted around in her chair and stared at Seth with a hint of contempt, as if she blamed him for not being able to hear the story. Jason, on the other hand, merely shrugged it off and reached for another cookie. Okay then. Clearly the girl was the dominant of the two, and the one he needed to watch out for. Good to know, Seth thought. A SEAL always needed to be aware of his enemies, after all.
“So…” Miranda studied the clock on the microwave display. “Huh, it’s only three o’clock. Feels much later. What should we do now?”
Dylan spoke up sheepishly. “Well, I kinda promised the squirts we would watch a movie on Netflix. As long as the power’s still on and the Internet works, we might as well take advantage of it. If that’s okay with you, of course.”
“It’s fine by me.” She turned to her kids. “Any movie ideas?”
As the twins began shouting out film titles Seth had never heard of—how was Puss in Boots age-appropriate? It sounded like p**n , for chrissake—he fought the urge to sneak out of the kitchen and hide out in his room again. Sitting around eating cookies and discussing the options for kiddie movie night was not his scene. At all.
But he forced his feet to stay rooted to the tiled floor. If he was going to succeed in finally getting Miranda naked, he needed to prove that he could be around her kids.
Jeez, is she even worth it, bro?
The thought gave him pause. He couldn’t deny that this was getting pretty f**king complicated. He was going to great lengths to get this woman in bed, even willingly spending time with an age demographic he usually avoided like the plague.
So…was she worth it?
He discreetly watched as she got up, laughing at something Sophie had said. As she helped her daughter up to her feet, Miranda’s sable-brown hair, now dry and wavy, fell forward, revealing that bare shoulder he’d been admiring earlier.
A rush of heat coursed through his blood and his c**k stirred beneath his sweatpants.
Fuck.
Of course she was worth it.
She was absolutely worth it.
Chapter Five
“Kids asleep?”
Seth’s low voice startled the hell out of her as she shut the guest room door and stepped into the corridor. Miranda’s pulse sped up when she spotted him at the end of the hall. Those magnetic gray eyes were focused on her with such intensity she felt rattled.
“Yeah.” She reluctantly walked toward him, wishing she’d decided to turn in herself. But it was barely eight forty-five and she wasn’t tired. If anything, she was wide awake and would probably stay that way for hours. The more it continued to rain, the higher her stress levels soared.
What would she find when she went home tomorrow? How much of their belongings could she actually salvage? How long would the renovations take? The floors would definitely have to be replaced, but what else?
