At least she could call her brother to confirm her girls were with their cousins and not “boning” some random boys.
Madison was twenty and now technically an adult, but still... No matter how old she was, Chelle was allowed to worry. Like it or not, until she moved out on her own, Maddie had to follow Chelle’s rules.
Ugh, she wanted to cry. When the hell did they grow up to the point where they were checking out the same man?
Or having sex?
Or having more sex than their mother?
The blood that had gathered in her face drained. She needed to schedule a sit-down with both of them again and have another discussion about safe sex. Just a reminder.
A precaution.
She also needed to remind them they could come to her about anything.
Even sex.
Oh God. Just not right now with Shawn on the other side of the wall.
“You both have school tomorrow.”
“We’ll be back before curfew,” Josie assured her.
“You don’t have any assignments pending?”
“Nope, all done,” Maddie answered. “Josie?”
“No, I did all my homework during study hall on Friday.”
“No tests to study for?” Chelle prodded. She sighed when both answered no. “Okay. Do you need money?”
Both girls got good grades and worked part-time, they deserved an evening of fun. At least they’d be with their cousins, who were within the same age range. Even better, weren’t wild and crazy.
Her older brother Rick and his wife were pretty strict with their daughters. All four of the girls had grown up more like sisters than cousins. Especially after Brendan died. Rick had stepped in as their father figure.
Thankfully.
Neither girls answered the money question. Instead, they pasted hopeful looks on their faces, which meant they had their own money, but preferred not to spend it.
She sighed. “Fine. Go in my wallet and grab my Visa. I can’t give you cash because I need to pay Shawn. Movies and dinner only. Got it? Anything else you pay for yourself.”
Josie bounced on her toes, then gave Chelle a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks, Mom!”
“Thanks, Mom!” Maddie yelled as she rushed down the hallway toward the kitchen where Chelle’s purse was.
“Take Maddie’s car. It’s more reliable,” she yelled as they disappeared. She slapped a hand to her forehead. “Oh my God, who said having kids was a good idea?” She sighed again and walked into the room.
And froze just inside the doorway.
She bit back a nervous giggle that would’ve sounded like her daughters’.
Shawn stood in the center of the room with hands on his hips and his dark brown, almost black, eyes on her. His long hair was still pulled back and he wore the same clothes he painted in yesterday. But then, so did she. No point in getting paint splatter on more clothing than necessary.
“Is there a problem?” Her question got caught in her throat at the way he was studying her.
She moved closer and held out one of the water bottles. When he took it from her, their fingers brushed and she swore she felt a shock.
He must have felt it, too, since he quickly jerked his hand away. She glanced down. Nothing in the room, or where they stood, would’ve created static.
“No problem,” he finally answered, as he continued to stare at her while cracking open the lid on the now sweating bottle. “Just thirsty.”
You’re not the only one.
She cleared her throat, opened her water and hoped it cooled her molten insides.
She turned in a circle, pretending to study their progress, as she took a long sip, wishing it was vodka. When she was done, she said, “We should be done within the hour, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll wait until tomorrow to uncover everything and move the furniture back.”
“I’ll do it before I leave.”
She shook her head. “I’ll get the girls to help. I just gave them money; they can earn it by helping me.”
Chelle heard him make a noise in his throat and she turned her attention back to him.
“Good mom,” was all he said.
“Are you asking if I am or stating I am?”
“Tellin’.”
He didn’t know her well enough to know if she was or wasn’t, but she appreciated him saying it. “Thanks. I try.”
There were plenty of times while raising two teenagers where she questioned whether she was a good parent. But both girls still had all their fingers and toes, so she must have done something right.
“Once we’re done, I’ll get you paid.”
“No rush,” he mumbled, putting down his water and heading back to the wall he’d been working on. Before he picked up the roller from the paint tray, he turned to face her again. “Chelle.” His voice was quiet.
She wiped a hand over her mouth and screwed the cap back on her water bottle. “Hmm?”
“Think I’m hot?” His voice also held a hint of amusement.
She knew the instant the blush hit her face. She turned away to hide it and pressed the water bottle to her cheek to cool it.
Oh my God, Chelle, you are not Josie’s age. You’re forty-one!
“Chelle.”
Him saying her name the way he just said it sent not only her heart to flutter, but also the place between her legs that had been untouched for longer than she’d like to admit.
So much longer.
“Yes?” came out on a squeak.
When she glanced over her shoulder at him—because, damn it, she couldn’t resist—she saw his lips quirk the slightest bit.
“That a question or the answer?”
She turned, not hiding her surprise. “You don’t know you’re hot?”
“Don’t give a fuck about that.”
That shouldn’t be a shocker. After working beside him, she noticed he wasn’t cocky or arrogant at all. Nor pushy or aggressive like she would’ve stereotyped bikers, even though she’d never known one personally before. Shawn seemed to be a more of a roll-with-the-punches type of guy.
“You don’t seem to be vain.” She added, “I think you’re too young,” then grimaced. She should’ve kept that thought buried deep in her head. Evidence she’d been considering him as a man and not only someone helping her out for some extra cash.
“For who?”
She didn’t even know if he was single. She should stop assuming everything about him and just encourage him to keep painting. How hot he was or his relationship status didn’t matter.
Doesn’t matter, Chelle, she reminded herself for the hundredth time.
“My girls are just obsessed with boys right now. Ignore whatever they say.”
“Not a boy.”
No, he wasn’t. He was... not a boy. Far, far, far from a boy.
She mentally rolled her eyes at herself.
“They said you should be out datin’ again. Takin’ that means you don’t got a man.”
She let that last sentence swirl around her brain and wondered if she should blow it off or answer. She hated admitting she didn’t have a husband because she was a widow.
She didn’t need a man to be strong. She didn’t need a man to be her backbone. She didn’t need a man to support her financially. She might not be rich, but they were doing just fine. She’d raised her daughters on her own for all these years. Her daughters were doing well, even getting a college education. She was proud of them.