Page 28 of Sleeper: The Palisades Edition

I can’t help smiling. He’s very considerate for a male host. When I got to my brother’s loft, all he said was, “There’s your futon; there’s the bathroom. If you get your girly things all over the place, I’ll throw them out.”

Shane puts his hands on his hips and looks around, his gaze pausing on the bed for a second before returning to meet mine. “Anything else you need? I should probably hit the showers now.”

“No, I’ll start unpacking. Then maybe you can show me the rest of the house before we pick up the kids.” I slide the elastic hair band from my wrist and lift my hair up to put it into a ponytail so I can get to work, but a few strands seem to be caught in the clasp of my necklace. “Ow.”

I tug on my hair and struggle to untangle the mess, but all of a sudden I feel Shane’s fingers graze mine, his breath on the back of my neck as he pushes my hair to one side.

“I’ll get it. Hold your hair up.”

It’s a gruff command, and I do as he says.

He carefully unhooks the necklace and meticulously frees each strand of hair from the gold chain and clasp. I can imagine how patient he must be with his kids. But I can also imagine how thorough and focused he must be with women.

He may or may not be breathing in the scent that’s emanating from my wrists and my neck.

I may or may not be holding my breath and squeezing my inner thighs together.

“You want me to put it back on for you?”

I nod. “Yes, please. Hang on. I’ll put my hair up first.” I pull my hair up into a high pony while he holds the necklace in place around my neck.

When I lower my hands, sliding them into the front pockets of my jeans, I remain perfectly still and face forward as he fastens the clasp.

The fingertips of one hand drag down just an inch of bare skin at the base of my neck and then over my T-shirt between my shoulder blades, making my breath catch, sending a delirious shiver all through me.

I turn my head the tiniest bit.

If he doesn’t move, I will turn my whole body to face him. I have to. How can I not, in this moment?

But he’s out the door without a word.

Leaving me here with a tension between my legs that may never be resolved, a pulse that has skyrocketed, and my hand over the little gold heart pendant that I bought years ago to remind myself of how important it is to protect that vital organ from the likes of Shane Miller.

EIGHT

WILLA

“What was your favorite part about school today?” I ask the kids.

“Lunch!”

“Yeah? What did you have?”

“Noodles with chicken bits that we ate with our fingers! And cucumber and carrot sticks and goldfish crackers! And Daddy hid the red gummy bears under the crackers!”

“He did? That’s funny. What about you, Lucky? What was your favorite thing?”

Lucky is considering his answer very carefully. “Hmmm. I liked it when Mrs. Babcock tooted and pretended she didn’t. Everyone laughed, and then she laughed too, and she said she had a soda for lunch.” Lucky and his sister both cover their adorable faces as they laugh hysterically.

“I seem to recall Mrs. Babcock had a soda for lunch last week too,” Shane mutters from the driver’s seat.

“She did! She toots a lot. But not the smelly kind.”

“Wow. Mrs. Babcock sounds like my kind of teacher.”

“Why do some toots smell bad and some don’t?”

“Good question, Lucky! Willa’s an expert on smells. Willa?”