Page 12 of Nightmare’s Playground

While she was showing him where to go, I glanced around the room.

It wasn’t what I expected.

I figured it’d look like the bakery. Pink everything. Instead there was a big white leather sectional with blush pink throw pillows, a soft-looking blanket draped over the arm, and a big flat screen TV hanging on the wall.

In the kitchen, four white barstools were pushed up to the island.

And speaking of the kitchen. It was exactly what I expected a professional chef to have. Top-of-the-line everything—stove, oven, fridge.

It was nice.

“Will they eat spaghetti?” Joy asked, pointing over her shoulder at the fridge. “I’ve got leftovers from last night. There’s plenty.”

“Yes!” JJ hollered, suddenly very interested in something other than his iPad.

“No!” I blurted.

Joy shrunk back.

Shit. Don’t be a dick, asshole.

“What I mean.” I coughed. “Is thanks, but we’re good.”

Joy looked away. “No. Yeah. I get it.”

Turning back, she forced a smile.

Fuck. I wasn’t trying to hurt her feelings. It’s the last thing I wanted to do, but it didn’t change the fact that I needed to keep my distance.

And not just for my sake. For hers, too.

“Aww,” JJ whined.

“Aww,” Sam echoed from down the hall, which told me the door wasn’t closed.

I shot JJ a look, and he shut his mouth. Begrudgingly.

“Sam,” I called. “Wrap it up.”

“I’m not done!”

I drug a hand down my face. Jesus Christ.

Three minutes and one very loud flush later, Sam came marching back into the living room with his shirt tucked into his underwear. “I pooped,” he told Joy proudly.

“Good job,” she said, and I had to look at the ceiling.

“Did you wash your hands?”

He wrinkled his nose.

“Boy,” I pointed towards the bathroom. “Go wash your hands.”

On a huff, he turned on his heel and stomped back the way he came.

“He’s really cute,” Joy said softly.

He was something.