That color turns bright red, and she avoids making eye contact with me, opting to kneel down and talk to my daughter. “Hi, Hazel. How’s it going, little neighbor?”
“We want chicken stwips.”
Abby nods, takes my daughter’s hand, and walks her a few booths down. Her uniform fits her like a glove. Snug on her great rack, her trim waist, and her perfectly round ass.
Her hair is braided down her back in a long, thick ponytail. It makes me wonder what it would be like if I wrapped it around my hand and pulled her mouth down to my di—
I’m snapped out of the fantasy when she lifts my daughter into a booster seat and asks her, “Do you like to color? Because I just got a new pack of crayons. Would you like to use them?”
“Yes!” My daughter grins from ear to ear, and something about that sweet expression cracks my heart wide open.
Running my hand over my face, I turn away. What the hell is wrong with me? I shouldn’t be fantasizing about this woman.
Abby drags a paper placemat with some kind of puzzle in front of Hazel and hands her a cup with half a dozen crayons.
I’m about to sit next to Hazel when Abby leans toward me and whispers, “Why are you limping? Do you need some ice?”
Her concerned blue eyes meet mine, and I freeze. “I’m okay.”
She clucks her tongue. “Okay, tough guy, but if you change your mind, I have some ibuprofen in my purse.” Turning to Hazel, she takes out her notepad. “Would you like some dipping sauce for your chicken strips?”
“Yes, please.”
“Nice manners, Hazel.” She winks at my daughter and then turns to me. “And what will you be having today, Daddy?”
Our eyes meet, and I lift an eyebrow. “Daddy?” That blush returns, and I chuckle. When Larissa called me that, I was embarrassed, but when Abby says it, I’m intrigued.
She flails her arms. “You know what I mean.”
“Just messing with ya.” For some reason, I really like messing with this woman. She’s fun to fluster, but I don’t want to come across as a creep, so I shift my attention to a menu. “I’ll have a cheeseburger and a chef’s salad, please.”
“Let me guess. No tomatoes and that diet vinaigrette on the side.”
It takes me a second to realize what she’s talking about. “Abby, I’m so sorry for how those girls treated you. I should’ve stopped that crap earlier.”
She shakes her head as she scribbles on her notepad. “It’s fine. Just giving you a hard time.”
The smile she gives me makes something hard all right. And that’s fucking weird.
Before Abigail, a woman’s smile has never given me a hard-on.
Jesus, maybe Jinxy is right and I need to blow off some steam and get laid.
I clear my throat. “I’ll take ranch for that salad, and Hazel and I will also share a slice of that icebox pie.”
Abigail tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Did she like that piece you took her the other night?”
Wincing, I shrug. “I might’ve eaten it when I got home.”
Abby snickers. “It’s good to know you’re human. Let me get your orders. And did y’all want water or something else to drink?”
“Water would be great.”
I watch her walk away. My eyes are glued to her ass as I remember her rocking that tube-top dress. Even her wonky glasses that are patched up with tape are adorable.
Damn it. There I go again. She’s hopefully going to be my new nanny. As much as I like Abby, I can’t go down that path.
A pounding starts right between my eyes, and I pinch the bridge of my nose as I promise myself I won’t flirt with my sweet neighbor.
