“Well, what do you suggest we do about it?”
A grin that splits her entire face has my heart sinking in my chest. “I’m glad you asked,” she says, moving to the corner closet and retrieving a can of paint and brushes, along with a drape for the floor.
“Oh, no.” I grab up the materials and shove them right back into the closet. “That’s a six-thousand-dollar desk. We are not—”
“Look, Daddy, do you want to win her back or not? Because if you go around messing up her ambiance…” She trails off leveling me with a grave look.
After mulling her words over for a few minutes and weighing my limited options, I decide to trust my daughter. After all, I haven’t lived with Nya in ten years. Who would know better than Ellie how to keep that fiery Latina on an even keel?
With a slight nod of my head, my daughter springs into action, retrieving her materials and laying the drape over the carpet. Then she grips one end of the huge executive desk. “Grab your side, Daddy. Let’s get busy.”
So, I do what any desperate man with little to no options would: I follow the advice of a child, because she’s obviously smarter than me. “Shouldn’t we sand it before painting?”
Said child looks at me like I’m dumber than a pile of bricks. “It’s chalk paint,” she says simply. Like that means a damn thing to me. When I widen my eyes, she rolls hers and explains further. “It’s only the best thing to happen to furniture restoration since like ever. You can paint over anything.”
That doesn’t sound right. “Maybe we should wait for Mom and see what she thinks?”
A memory of countless hours spent stripping and staining cabinets with my father and younger brother as a teen comes to mind. What she’s suggesting sounds far too easy. Cliff and I damn near killed each other before all was said and done.
“Don’t you trust me?” she asks pushing her lip out in a mock pout.
“No.” I snatch the brush from her hand just before she touches it to the desktop.
“I helped Mom with hers. I’ve helped her with lots of projects for clients. I swear I know what I’m doing.”
“Fine,” I concede, “but if you ruin this desk, it becomes your Christmas present.”
“Grab a brush.”
“Helloooo, anybody ho—oh my God. What are you two doing?”
At the sound of her anxious voice, I glance up from behind the desk and greet her with a smile. “What’s it look like?”
Ellie pokes her little head out from where she’s painting underneath. “Daddy didn’t want to mess up your Zen… Trust me, you would have hated it. Mahogany… so drab.”
“Is that so?” Nya steps into the room to examine our project, which I must say is turning out quite nicely. My daughter is a genius—she could certainly teach her grandfather a thing or two.
The stunned brunette clears her throat. It’s hard to determine whether she wants to laugh or cry. “This is my office, Liam.”
“Our,” I correct. “There’s really no other room in the house to set up my desk. I’m not trying to invade your space”—I am totally trying to invade her space, her heart, her bed—“but I have to work too.”
“That’s an expensive piece of furniture.” She circles our work area, running a finger along the unpainted edge. “I can’t believe you trusted a child to paint it… No offense, Ellie.”
“Desperate times.” Our daughter shrugs, biting back a smile.
She nods then turns to leave. “Mija, take a little break and come see all the new clothes I picked out for you today. Auntie Hannah and I shopped til we dropped.”
“Did you get anything for me?” I jest.
“Hmm, no. Did you need something?” Her demeanor is too prim. Too composed. I’m not sure what she’s hiding, but the fact that she’s not ripping me a new asshole for invading her office and is speaking so civilly on the first day of our new living arrangement has me all sorts of suspicious. I haven’t even had the chance to start wearing her down yet.
“No, but I love surprises.”
She nods, reaching into her purse and digging around as she walks through the doorway. I’m staring at her ass when she flicks her wrist and something hard hits me right between the eyes. “Surprise!”
On the floor in front of me is my Visa card. “You didn’t?” I ask, completely dumbfound. “You stole my credit card?”
“Stole?” Innocently she brings a hand to her chest. “I borrowed it, hubby. What’s yours is mine; isn’t that what you said just this morning?”
I can’t help but be impressed by this woman, and also a little sick to my stomach. “How much did you spend?”
Nya nibbles her lower lip. “You like surprises, remember? Let’s not ruin this happy moment.”
Liam
Great wall of pillows
“I set out a pillow and blanket for you on the fold-out couch.” Nya slinks out of the bathroom in a silky top and matching sleep shorts. They’re pink with black polka dots, trimmed in lace. I can clearly see her rock-hard nipples beneath the fabric from where I sit at the foot of the bed. Fuck. She’s beautiful. Her hair is loose, the glossy waves cascading down her back. Her face freshly scrubbed clean of any makeup. Our old bedroom smells of her sweet-scented body wash, and the combination is making it hard to breathe, let alone think.
“Damn, you’re pretty.” It’s not something that was planned, but a thought so honest I couldn’t keep it contained
“Liam.” She clears her throat. Then, her big brown eyes rake over my body, from my naked chest to my abs. She pauses briefly at the tent in my boxer shorts before resuming her perusal all the way down until she reaches my bare feet. As if realizing she’s just fucked me with her eyes, she jerks her gaze up to meet mine. “Please don’t try to flatter me. This is new and really nothing has changed.”
“Your beauty is nothing new,” I counter with a wink, not wanting to delve into the serious shit yet. She’s so focused on what went wrong. I’d rather use this time to my advantage—to remind her of all the things that were so very right.
Heat darkens her cheeks. “You know what I mean. This. Us. Under the same roof. I can’t just pretend the last ten years didn’t exist.”
“I’m not asking you to, but there were a few really good years in there too. I can’t just forget them, Nya. After all this time, I still can’t forget the way you feel in my arms. The taste of your skin on my tongue.” I swallow hard, once again focusing on those nipples, which seem to be protruding even farther against the delicate silk. “Damn it, woman, you still occupy my every waking thought. To this day, it’s still your face I see when I close my eyes to sleep each night.”
Her lip quivers, telling me she’s not unaffected by my confession.
“I’m going to take a wild guess that it’s the same for you. That means something, whether you want to admit it or not. All I’m asking for is an honest chance to prove to you that this…that we can work.”
She turns her nose up and sniffs, before squaring her shoulders and walking around to her side of the bed. “I’ll see you in the morning, Liam. Goodnight.”