Getting Hotter (19 page)

In fact, she wasn’t sure she’d make it through tonight’s shift without falling asleep in the middle of pouring a drink. She’d gone to bed at five in the morning, after Seth cajoled her into a quickie when she got home from the club. The resulting orgasm had been delicious—but getting only four hours of sleep, not so delicious. To compound the exhaustion, she’d spent the entire morning and afternoon at the school, teaching three back-to-back classes.

And her day wasn’t even close to being over. She still had to take the kids out for their Saturday pizza dinner, drive home, get them bathed and in their PJ’s before Kim got there, go to the club, and then tend bar until two in the morning.

Someone kill her. Now.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Andre remarked. “I swear, you’re Superwoman.”

“Tell me about it. Anyway, drive safe. I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early. I’ll be the one asleep at the barre.”

Andre laughed. “See you tomorrow, Superwoman.”

They parted ways, Andre heading for the front door, Miranda continuing down the hall toward the back office where Elsa Fisher was waiting.

Elsa was in her midforties, a ballerina who’d immigrated to the States after touring the world with a renowned German dance corps. She taught advanced ballet and contemporary dance to the older students, while Miranda worked with the younger ones. Ginny and Andre, who rounded out the teaching staff, worked with all ages.

“Hey, Elsa, what’s up?” she asked as she entered the office.

Elsa rose from the desk chair, a frown pinching her thin lips. “The father was here again. He wants to discuss Catherine’s future at the school, but he refuses to talk to anyone but you.”

Miranda shook her head in annoyance. “But Catherine is
your
student. I already explained to him on the phone that you’re the one to talk to in regards to growth and development.”

“He insists he must discuss it with you, the owner. He was waiting for you after Catherine’s private lesson, but your class ran late so he left. He told me to let you know he’ll be phoning you tomorrow.”

The billionth sigh of the day shuddered out of her lungs. Okay. No big deal. For some reason, Catherine Porter’s father was chomping at the bit for a few minutes of Miranda’s time. Clearly he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so she’d just suck it up and have a brief conversation with him tomorrow.

“All right. Thanks for letting me know,” she told Elsa. “I’ve got to take off now. You’ll lock up after your evening lesson?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She waved good-bye and left the office, heading for the empty studio where she’d left her daughter. When she poked her head in, she saw Sophie sprawled on a pile of blue mats, playing with the new doll they’d picked out a couple of days ago. Miranda had taken the kids to the mall after kindergarten for the sole purpose of replacing Sophie’s beloved Belinda; fortunately, Belinda’s successor, Emily, was a big hit so far.

“Time to go, Soph,” she called out. “We have to pick up your brother.”

Sophie hopped off the mats, tucking Emily under her arm as she dashed over and threw herself into Miranda’s legs with a hefty
whoomp
.

Miranda laughed and stared down at her daughter. “What’s this about?”

“Do you still love me, Mommy?” A pair of big brown eyes gazed imploringly at her.

“Why on earth would you ask me that, sweetie?
Of course
I still love you!”

Relief flooded her daughter’s face. “Promise?”

“I promise, Soph, I still love you. I will
always
love you. Always and always and always.”

“
Pinky
promise?”

Miranda promptly squatted down to the floor and stuck out her pinkie. After a second, Sophie offered a pinkie in return and they sealed the deal.

“Now,” Miranda said, incredibly disturbed by this entire exchange, “can you tell me why you thought I didn’t love you anymore?”

“’Cause you ignored me in class t’day when I tried to show you my plié.” Sophie pouted. “And yesterday you only read
one
story after dinner and you usually read
two
and Jase said maybe you were tired ’cause our house is underwater and then he said maybe we would hafta live with Sef
forever
but I said we wouldn’t ’cause Sef is mean ’cept sometimes he’s not mean, sometimes he’s nice, but then he stops being nice when he sees that
we
see he’s being nice.”

It took a few seconds to make sense of everything her daughter had said. Rising to her feet, she took Sophie’s hand, then picked up the two dance bags she’d left by the door. She decided to address one point at a time.

“First of all, if I ignored you today, I didn’t mean to. I probably just didn’t hear you, sweetie,” she assured her daughter, who was clutching her hand so tightly Miranda’s bones ached. “And remember we talked about how when there are ten other little girls in the studio, I have to pay attention to all of them instead of just one?”

“I remember.”

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, Soph, but I promise, I didn’t do it on purpose, okay?”

“’Kay.”

They exited the building and walked hand in hand to the parking lot behind the school. Miranda tried to remember Sophie’s next complaint. Right, the stories.

“And your brother was right. I was very tired yesterday and that’s why I only read one story. Hey, know what Andre just called me?”

“What?”

“Superwoman.”

Sophie giggled. “That’s funny.”

“Kind of, but see, it’s not true.” She lifted her daughter into the backseat and buckled her up, then knelt in front of the open door. “I’m not a superhero, Soph. I can’t do everything, and sometimes I get tired and cranky. I know that might not be fair to you and Jase, but sometimes you guys get tired and cranky too, right?”

“Right.”

“So what do you say we agree not to get upset with each other at times like those? Deal?”

Sophie smiled. “Deal.”

Uneasiness swelled in Miranda’s stomach as she reached the final topic of discussion. “And I don’t want you to worry. We’re not going to live with Seth forever. He’s just being a good friend to your mom and giving us a place to stay until our apartment is all fixed up.”

Sophie brought her doll up to her chest and began playing with Emily’s silky black hair. She avoided Miranda’s eyes as she whispered, “Do you like Sef more than you like me and Jase?”

Her heart squeezed. “Oh, sweetie, of course not. I like Seth, he’s a good friend of Mommy’s, but I could never like him more than you and Jason. I could never like
anyone
more.”

“Promise?”

“
Pinky
promise,” she replied, sticking out her baby finger.

They shook pinkies again, and then Miranda teasingly tugged on her daughter’s ponytail and got up. “Okay, now we need to pick up your brother before he thinks we abandoned him.”

She slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, then pulled out of the lot and merged into the late afternoon traffic. A glance in the rearview mirror revealed Sophie playing with her doll, but suddenly Sophie’s head lifted and she locked gazes with her mother.

“I don’t wanna go for pizza today,” Sophie announced.

Miranda wrinkled her forehead. “But it’s our Saturday tradition.”

Her daughter stubbornly shook her head. “I don’t wanna go. Can you ask the pizza man to bring pizza to Sef’s house?”

“Sure, we can get it delivered,” she said, baffled. “But why?”

An exaggerated sigh reverberated in the interior of the car. “’Cause you’re tired, Mom. Duh!”

With that, Sophie returned her attention to her new doll, leaving Miranda to shake her head in awe and amusement. God, she had great kids. Sweet, perceptive, smart. Just all-around incredible.

The rugrats are smart, babe. Smart enough to know that you’re the only parent they need.

Seth’s words from the other night buzzed in her brain, immediately followed by the convoluted thought Sophie had voiced minutes ago.

Sometimes he’s nice, but then he stops being nice when he sees that
we
see he’s being nice.

Out of the mouth of babes.

Was Sophie on to something, though? Was Seth going out of his way to refrain from being nice to the twins? Was he purposely putting distance between himself and her children? Because the other day, when he’d recited his reasons for not wanting or liking kids, something had sounded so…false. And call her crazy, but there might have even been a tremor of panic in his tone.

It suddenly occurred to her that she hardly knew anything about Seth Masterson. He’d grown up in Vegas, he’d been raised by a showgirl, he’d enlisted at eighteen.

But what else? What was his childhood like? What were his hopes and dreams? How did he envision his future?

And did it really matter whether she had the answers to any of those questions? The involvement between her and Seth was purely sexual. Sooner or later it would fizzle out, so why try to forge a deeper connection?

Maybe the less insight she had into Seth’s complicated psyche, the better off she’d be.

Seth was feeling edgy as hell as he watched Miranda wipe the corner of her mouth with a napkin, all cute and demure-like. The four of them were sitting on the living room floor around the coffee table, munching on the pizza Miranda had ordered for dinner. The flat screen on the wall was playing an animated movie Jason had picked, but Seth wasn’t paying attention to the TV. He was too busy looking at Miranda, same way he’d been looking at her every goddamn second for the past three days.

Everything the woman did turned him on. She made even the most innocuous activities look dirty. Folding laundry, sweeping the kitchen floor—didn’t matter what she did, he wanted her. Tonight it was watching her eat pizza that got his blood going. His gaze was glued to her mouth, so focused on it, in fact, that one of the rugrats finally decided to comment. No surprise as to which one, either.

“Why are you staring at my mom?” Sophie demanded.

Seth blinked out of his lust-filled stupor. “Ah, because she had tomato sauce on her cheek.”

“I did?” Miranda’s dubious look said she saw right through him.

“Yeah, but it’s gone now. You wiped it away.”

Sophie pursed her lips in disapproval. “It’s rude to stare.”

“You’re right. It is.” He met Miranda’s hazel eyes. “I’m sorry for staring, Miranda.”

“It’s quite all right, Seth.”

She held his gaze for another second before turning to scold Jason, who was making a huge mess as he dipped his slice into a plastic container of barbecue sauce. Which kinda floored him, because Seth had never met anyone who slathered BBQ sauce on pizza the way he himself did. Neither he nor Miranda’s son had remarked on it, but there’d been unmistakable pleasure in Jason’s eyes when Seth had called dibs on one of the barbecue sauces. It was obvious the kid liked having something in common with him.

“Anyway, thanks for dinner,” Seth said, standing up. “I was dying of hunger when you got home and I couldn’t decide what to eat.”

Their gazes locked again. Miranda’s cheeks turned pink.

You
, he told her with his eyes.
I wanted to eat you.

Still did, too. He wanted to latch his mouth on that sweet pussy of hers and eat her until she screamed his name.

Her tone was nonchalant as she answered, “Well, if you’re hungry again later, let me know. I could always stop and grab you something to eat on my way back from the club tonight.”
Later
being the operative word in that sentence.

“Actually, I won’t be here later. I’ve gotta be at the base at one a.m. We’re doing night dives.”

More eye contact. Another unspoken message.

“Whath nithe difes?” Jason demanded through a mouthful of pizza.

“Jase,” Miranda chided. “Chew, swallow, talk.”

The little boy did as asked, then repeated himself. “What’s night dives?”

“It means we’re diving in the ocean in the middle of the night,” Seth explained brusquely.

“You go in the water in the
dark
?” Jason’s eyes widened. “But Mom says it’s dangerous to go swimming when it’s not sunny.”

Miranda smiled at her son. “Dangerous for
you
,” she corrected. “But see how big and strong Seth is?”

Jason nodded, slightly awed.

“Well, that means he’s allowed to do dangerous things every now and then. He underwent a lot of training, years and years of training, to be able to do what he does.”

Seth shifted in discomfort. Each word she said only succeeded in giving Jason a bigger case of hero worship, and he didn’t want to be the kid’s hero.

“Okay, uh, I’m gonna catch some shut-eye until I have to go,” Seth said before she could continue. He gave the rugrats a quick nod, Miranda one final look, and then left the living room.

After he shut and locked his bedroom door, he stripped off his T-shirt, cargo pants and boxer briefs, and made his way to the bed. He hadn’t lied—sleep was definitely on the docket. Except he wouldn’t get a wink of it unless he remedied the problem down below.