"I'm sorry." I glanced down at the direction of the young voice and saw a little girl with long dark hair and big, tear-filled eyes. Very distinctive green eyes. "I didn't mean to."
I blinked at her for a prolonged moment until Sierra nudged me. "Uh, It's okay. Accidents happen."
The girl sniffled. "I'm Jacks."
"Jacks?" I parroted, blinking again.
"Jacqueline Josephine Murphy."
I glanced up at the deep voice and lost any ability to speak. Brody Murphy stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. A grey t-shirt hugged his upper body and a pair of faded jeans clung to his hips and thighs in all the right places. His dark hair was the shortest I'd ever seen it, leaving the sharp edges of his cheekbones and jawline on full display. His fingers curved around a beer bottle and he lifted it to his lips, hiding the smirk. Behind me, Sierra moaned quietly, jerking me out of my mindless perusal.
"A little wet there, Cam?"
"If she's not, I am," Sierra whispered behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder at her and cut my eyes toward the little girl beside me.
A faint pink tinge rolled over Sierra's cheeks. "Oops."
"Oh, dear." I turned toward the sound of my mother's voice.
"I said I was sorry, Daddy," Jacks said. Her voice trembled with tears.
Brody opened his mouth but I cut him off. "It's okay. I didn't announce myself when I came in and she didn't know I was here."
He stared at me, his expression inscrutable, but he closed his mouth.
"You still have some clothes upstairs," my mother piped in.
I winked down at Jacks, who gave me a faint smile, and left the living room without a word. I stared Brody down as I walked by, telling him with my eyes to leave her alone.
He stared right back, but I could see the hint of a dimple in his right cheek. Probably because I looked ridiculous, walking with my legs slightly spread and hunched over to keep the cold, wet fabric from sticking to my skin.
I headed up the stairs to my old room. I hesitated at the top, listening to the murmur of voices coming from downstairs. I wouldn't put it past Brody to chastise his daughter once I was out of earshot.
Surprisingly, I heard a peal of little girl laughter a second later.
Hmmmm. That wasn't what I expected. Especially considering the stern way he'd called out his daughter's name a few moments ago.
Satisfied that he wasn't going to give her hell, I went into my room and shut the door behind me. Mom had left my furniture alone when I moved out but she had removed all the posters and assorted heartthrob magazine pictures taped to the wall. She'd also packed away most of my trophies and ribbons with the exception of a few.
I stripped off my clothes and carried them into the bathroom, pausing when I reached the door. Mom had changed this up quite a bit since the last time I'd been up here. There was a new white pedestal sink with sleek, curved lines and a new toilet. The shower had also been retiled and enclosed in sparkling, clear glass.
Since my skin was sticky from the tea, I dropped the pile in my arms onto the tile floor and opened the shower door. Might as well test out the new equipment. I fiddled with the knobs for a few minutes and studied the multiple showerheads. Though my hair was in a ponytail, I still didn't want to get it wet. Finally, I figured out how it all worked and turned on the water.
And fell in love.
I wanted to luxuriate beneath the hot flow of water but I knew my mother would be up here, banging on the door, if I stayed too much longer.
With a sigh, I turned off the water and toweled off. Knowing my mother's propensity to always be prepared, I opened the medicine cabinet and grinned when I saw not only a new toothbrush still in the package and a tube of toothpaste, but moisturizer, lotion, and deodorant, all unopened and lined up neatly on the shelves.
I applied deodorant and went back into my childhood bedroom to the dresser where Mom stored my old clothes. As soon as I opened the top drawer, I knew this afternoon was going to be shitshow.
Dread bloomed in my belly as I opened the other two drawers in the dresser and quickly turned into resignation. I grabbed a handful of fabric from the top and middle drawers and slammed them shut.
I was just tugging the tank top down over my torso when there was a light tap on the bedroom door.
Sierra stuck her head in and her eyes widened. She stared, then blinked, then stared some more.
"What?" I asked, lifting my arms in frustration.
"You look like every teenage boy's fantasy," she blurted.
I looked down and saw the way the scooped neck of the tank top emphasized the upper curves of my breasts where the bikini top plumped them up. The teeny bottoms that matched the top were hidden by a pair of tight denim cutoffs leftover from my college days.
Actually, I was kind of impressed I fit into them. The entire reason I'd left them here was because I hadn't been able to button them and breathe at the same time. Maybe working out nearly every day was helping. Yeah, probably not. Most likely it was the fact that I was so busy with the shop that I barely had time to eat.
"It's the same stuff I wore in college," I replied. I couldn't help the defensive edge in my voice.
"Yeah, but you didn't fill it out that way in college," Sierra shot back.
I sighed and went back into the bathroom to grab my wet things, taking a moment to wrap them in the towel I'd used to dry off. "These were the only things in the dresser that remotely fit. Even my bra is completely soaked and there's no way I'm bouncing around the house braless with Brody Murphy and his daughter here."
Sierra studied me and cocked her head. "I'm not sure Brody would mind all that much."
I didn't dignify that with an answer as I slipped by her and went back downstairs. I could hear everyone in the kitchen as I snuck by to the laundry room. I had just enough time to wash and dry my clothes so I could wear them to work later.
Sierra didn't follow me and I was glad. I didn't want to talk about Brody with her. We might not see each other as often as I wanted, but she was still my best friend. She knew me better than anyone and could see straight through my defenses.
I tossed the clothes in the washer, added soap, and closed the lid. I turned to leave the laundry room and gasped when I saw the large man looming behind me.
I stumbled back and fell against the washing machine. Brody moved quickly and steadied me with a hand on my hip.
"Jesus Christ, Brody. You scared me half to death."
"Sorry."
Yeah, he sounded really sorry.
I straightened and leaned my hips back against the washer, which was still filling with water. The noise was so loud I couldn't hear him when he spoke again.
"What?" I asked.
He stepped forward, right in my space. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end at his proximity and I crossed my arms over my chest.
"I'm sorry about Jacks. I appreciate that you didn't fly off the handle with her."
If he'd said something like that to me ten years ago, I would have snapped at him. Now, I just lifted an eyebrow and asked, "What did you expect me to do, scream at her?"
Brody sighed just as the washer finished filling and the cacophony of rushing water faded into the low hum of the agitator. "Not exactly. But I did think you'd be a little more...upset."