“Why don’t you give me some motivation and tell me you’re going to wear those extra-thin pink pants again tomorrow, darlin’?”
She cracked a disbelieving laugh. “Wear the same pants two days in a row?”
Wes fought a laugh. “That’s the part you took offense to?”
“I-I . . . no.” Her face colored. “I’ll wear the pink pants if you wear your flea collar.”
“First you talk about pegging and now I’m wearing a collar.” He rocked back on his heels. “The plot thickens.”
“It’ll never be as thick as your skull.” She dismissed him with a sniff, crunching through construction rubble on her way to her post. “Go home.”
“See you tomorrow, Bethany.”
“If only I had a choice, Wes,” she sang sweetly.
His encounters with Bethany used to leave him feeling charged up. If not satisfied, he’d damn well gotten pleasure out of it. While there was a definite spark in his belly after their exchange, it now felt unfinished. Their barbs were supposed to lead somewhere, weren’t they? Yeah. And he wanted to go there. Crazy enough, he wasn’t sure there was just sex. Instead of walking away and leaving her frowning, he wanted to keep going until it became a grudging smile.
That would satisfy him almost as much as sex.
Jesus. What the hell was wrong with him?
Wes felt Bethany’s questioning gaze on his back as he left the house. He got into his truck and drove to the school, arriving in the pick-up line just in time for Laura to begin her journey down the walkway. He hadn’t picked her up many times this year, but based on her complaints that she didn’t have any friends, Wes didn’t expect her to be flanked by two girls her age. They were lost in an animated conversation complete with hand signals and giggles, while his niece appeared to be floating on cloud nine between them.
He lowered the passenger-side window at the exact moment Laura did her Scooby-Doo impression, making the other girls laugh, and an odd sound puffed out of him.
Laura spotted him idling at the curb and waved enthusiastically.
Warmth spread downward from his collarbone. “Hey, kid,” he called. “Hop in.”
“Wait. Uncle Wes, Uncle Wes, can Megan and Danielle come over?” His niece literally shrieked the question at him from fifteen yards away. “Please? If their mom says it’s all right? Please?”
No. No way. He’d just figured out how to be passably decent at taking care of Laura. Throwing two more children into the mix could be disastrous. He searched for a distraction. Distractions always worked. “Maybe not today. I was planning on renting Tangled for us—”
“I love Tangled,” Danielle or Megan squealed. “I want to watch it, too.”
Rookie move, idiot. “I’m sure their mother has plans—”
A woman’s face filled his passenger window. “Hi, I’m Judy. Danielle and Megan’s mom. You’re Wes, right? Laura’s uncle?”
She stuck out her hand for a shake. He held up his grimy one apologetically. “Sorry, I just came from a construction site. Might want to steer clear.”
Judy’s expression was amused, but mostly distracted. “So, you’re taking the girls today?”
“Oh.” He scratched at his five o’clock shadow. “I . . . Am I?”
“I don’t think these sassy ladies are going to take no for an answer!” What started off as a jovial laugh turned dark, Judy’s expression becoming infinitely more intense. She leaned into his truck, knuckles turning white on the frame. “Please, take them. Even if it’s just an hour.”
Wes forced himself not to jerk back. “Think they can all fit in my truck?”
“We’ll make them fit.” Her smile returned, brighter than ever. “Girls,” she called over her shoulder. “Good news. Laura’s uncle is taking you for a few hours.”
“Wait. A few?”
Ignoring him, Judy pried open the passenger door and ushered the celebrating girls into the cab, throwing one seatbelt around all three of them. “Pick you up after dinner.”
Dinner?
She looked across at Wes. “My cell number is on the class contact list, if you need anything—along with yours. You got that email, right?” said Judy, closing the door without waiting for a response. Through the glass, she called, “Bye now!”
Wes pulled away from the curb in a state of shock and stayed parked at a red light until it turned green and the person behind him laid on the horn. A peek in the rearview told him it was Judy. To his right, the three girls were singing a song about raining tacos at the top of their lungs. What the hell was he supposed to do with them?
Nothing. He had to bring them home. He did not sign up for this.
He wasn’t a dad. He was a drifter, a former orphan, a man without ties, and that’s how he liked it. That’s how it had always been.
Wes was on the verge of asking Danielle or Megan for their address so he could drop them off, but his niece caught his eye. It was obvious she was reading his mind and knew he was already throwing in the towel. Her eyes pleaded with him silently to reconsider and something unfurled in the center of his chest. Something that had been wrapped up tight for as long as he could remember. He’d kept this box sealed shut for safety’s sake, but his niece climbed inside and made herself at home.
Before he registered the turns and avenues, Wes found himself on his porch, unlocking the door and making way for three tiny people to bound inside. While the newbies sprinted toward Laura’s bedroom, his niece stopped and put her arms around his waist, squeezing with all her might.
“I don’t know what happened, but I think I have friends now and they wanted to come over and what are we going to do, Uncle Wes?”
“You’re asking me?”
“Please! I have friends!”
She ran after her pals before he could ask what on God’s green earth she wanted from him. “Please, what?” he muttered under his breath, going to the fridge and starting to take out a beer before stopping himself. Without overthinking too much, he pulled out his cell and called Bethany. Because it felt right.
She answered on the second ring, her tone indicating she was still sore over his request that she wear the pink pants tomorrow. “Yes?”
“Is the adult supervision allowed to have a beer while hosting a playdate?”
“How should I know?” There was some background shuffling. “Are you in charge of multiple children right now?”
“It all happened so fast.”
A couple seconds ticked by. What the hell had he been thinking calling her? He hadn’t relied on anyone else to solve even his most insignificant problems since he was a child. If this wasn’t dangerous proof that he’d started to ask himself what if, he didn’t know what was. “Why are you calling me?” she asked.
“To find out if I can have a beer,” he answered, striving like hell to make the call casual, instead of letting himself need her. “Listen, never mind—”
“My father drank during our playdates,” she blurted. “Pour it into a mug and pop in a breath mint before their parents show up.” A moment passed. “You’re going to do fine. Easily better than I could.”