Scarves, hats, pins, and other jewelry covered every surface in the room. Maureen got up and murmured to me quietly so the kids couldn’t hear, “They fight, but Scarlett is very protective of her big brother. When the party started getting crowded, he told his parents he needed a breather, and she insisted on accompanying him.”
“Oh. That was nice of her.” I glanced around. “And they ended up here…with you?”
Maureen arched an eyebrow. “These are two of Travis and Vivienne’s kids. Have you met James and Marley’s friends, the Bloxhams?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Them, but not their kids yet.” In all the times I’d pictured running into Maureen for the first time in a year, I’d never considered a scenario where I’d catch herbabysitting.
“His parents seemed to be enjoying themselves when Connor asked for some space, so I volunteered to take him in here. With four kids, they don’t get much chance to relax.”
“Of course.”
Above the children’s line of sight, Maureen gave me a questioning stare, the husky laughter I’d heard moments ago entirely gone.
I missed it immediately.
Looking at what Connor held, I grasped for something to say. Anything. “Why do you have a tiara in your accessory box?”
She exhaled. “I have lots of interesting things, Will. Goodies from photo shoots.” She kept glaring at me. I knew what Iwanted to say to her. I’d been thinking about it for days. But I couldn’t force the words from my mouth. Finally, Maureen interjected into the silence, too low for Scarlett and Connor to hear, “What are you doing here, Will?”
“At the party?” I mumbled.
“At the door to my room.”
I took a deep breath.Get it together, idiot. Time to put it out there.
“I was looking for you.”
Her stare could have cut glass. “That wasn’t our agreement.”
“That’s why I was looking for you.” I gazed back at her, straightening my shoulders.
“Why?”
“I want to renegotiate.”
Chapter twelve
Maureen
Iwant to renegotiate.
The words reverberated in my head, churned in my belly.
I want to renegotiate.
Will stared, waiting for my response.
If I’d had any doubt whether he still affected me, it dissolved the moment he stepped into my doorway, all rugged appeal with refined edges. Ruddy winter cheeks. V-neck sweater stretching tautly across his lithe chest, hints of chest hair peeking out. Gray eyes blazing behind thick lashes. I itched to run my palm along the dark five o’clock shadow sprouting along his face and neck.
Luckily, I was a pro at maintaining my composure. And a neutral expression.
We stepped into the hallway, ensuring the kids were out of earshot while still keeping an eye on them. Voices rose from the living room fifty feet away. His breath tickled the skin of my jaw as he stepped close and whispered, “We’ve avoided each other for a year.” He inhaled before sighing breathily. “Maureen, it’s not working.”
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. That voice. Holy fuck.
Hello, Billy from Musicbox. Billy from Denny’s.The wispy hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention.I swallowed roughly. “What do you mean, ‘it’s not working?’”
He peered at me. “I’ve steered clear of you since last Christmas, like you asked me to. But I can’t stop thinking about… There’s still this…tension…between us—” He pulled back as a woman came into the hallway to use the bathroom. After she’d gone in and shut the door, not paying us any mind, he continued, “Not knowing whether I’m going to see you when I see James hasn’t made it better.”
