Enticing: Chapter 8

“Look, best part of takeout.” I stand from the kitchen table, grab the cardboard boxes from West End, and look around Addie’s kitchen for a trash can I can’t find as she laughs softly. Everything about her is soft and quiet when she lets her guard down, like now. A stark contrast to the hard, sharp walls she normally has up. “Woman . . .” I tease. “ Where the heck have you ladies hidden your trash can?”

“Gran had the kitchen redone last year.” Izzy hops off her chair and runs over to one of the pale blue cabinets next to the kitchen sink and pulls it open, showcasing a trash can and recycling bin. “What’s the best part, Leo?”

“Well . . .” I dunk the boxes like I play basketball instead of hockey and wipe the counter down with a damp washcloth. “I was going to say easy cleanup, but apparently, the James girls like to be sneaky.”

Izzy giggles, and I steal a glance at Addie, whose smile is small, but it’s there. And that’s my win for the night.

“We’re not sneaky, Leo. Mommy says it’s icky to leave the trash out for everyone to see.”

“Is that so?” I ask as I swing her up in my arms and tickle her, just so I can hear that laugh again.

“Yes,” she yells through peals of laughter, and man, it’s a great sound.

“Okay, Izz. Time to get cleaned up. Bath or shower tonight?” Addie asks, and I stand Izzy back on her feet.

Short stack sighs and rolls her eyes like a little teenager.

She reminds me of a mini version of my sister Everly.

All sass.

Damn, I like this kid.

“Do I have to? I’m not dirty,” she argues with her mother, then looks at me. “Tell her, Leo.”

Oh, hell no.

Addie’s eyes swing to mine, not quite pissed but not thrilled.

“Listen, short stack, if there’s one thing I know, it’s not to argue with your mom. If she says bath or shower tonight, then tonight it is.” I peek back at Addie, and she’s biting down on her full bottom lip, a look of approval in her warm doe eyes.

“Run upstairs, Izz, and I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

Izzy grumbles and stomps off but doesn’t argue again as she marches out of the kitchen. I wait for her to be out of earshot before I even think about opening my mouth. “How was that answer?”

The gorgeous woman in front of me blows my mind as she laughs.

It’s loud and free and so fucking sexy, I know I’ll be thinking about that sound when I get myself off later.

“It was a good answer, Leo. Too good.” She stands from her chair and pushes it in before crossing her arms over her chest as she faces me. “You’re either the most practiced, smoothest man I’ve ever met or you may actually be a genuinely good guy. I’m not sure which one yet, and it’s really messing with me.”

“My family would probably tell you I’m not smart enough to be smooth,” I admit, unsure why I just shared that.

She gives a little shake of her head. “Oh, I don’t believe that for a single second.” Addie’s eyes roam over me, leaving an undeniable heat in their wake.

I’ve never had to take it slow.

Never had anyone worth taking it slow for.

I wasn’t exactly a girlfriend guy in high school or college.

When you grow up watching two people so disgustingly in love, they can’t keep their hands off each other, even with two crazy careers, five busy kids, and one special uncle who lived with us, the relationship bar is set pretty high. That’s not to say there haven’t been plenty of women in my life. Just none who ever felt like they belonged there.

This one . . . She feels different.

Carefully, I step forward, giving Addie time to see me coming as I slowly reach out to cup her face in my hand. So slowly, she has plenty of time to move or stop me, but she does neither. Instead, she stands there, frozen in place. Hesitant. She doesn’t lean in, but she doesn’t pull away.

“One day, you’ll believe I’m a good guy, Adelaide.” My thumb skims the apple of her cheek, soft and delicate and pinking under my touch.

“And then what?” she whispers.

I bring my face within an inch of hers. “And then I’m going to kiss you.”

Addie’s breath hitches in her throat.

“Thanks for having me over for dinner.” I tilt her face forward and kiss her forehead. “Tell Izzy I said goodnight.”

“Okay,” she breathes out, and I’m not sure anything in my life has ever taken as much strength as leaving her right now does. But if I don’t leave now, I’m not going to, and she’s not ready for that.

Looks like Monday Night Football it is.

I look back at the house in front of me and wonder when hanging with my brother and friends instead of Addie and the girls became my second choice.