“Let me carry him for you,” Josh said.
“I’ve got him.”
“Mickie.”
She stopped at the tone of his voice. She was feeling just a hitch past irritated and bordering on perturbed at this point. “What?”
“Let someone help you, for God’s sake. You don’t have to do everything alone.”
She stared at him. “Yes. I do,” she whispered.
He stepped closer. “No. You don’t.” He held out his hands. “Let me carry him back to your place.”
“You don’t even know how to hold a baby.”
“It’s easier when they aren’t screaming and blowing snot bubbles at me.” He stood, grinning at her with his hands still extended, conceding her point, but still not backing down. Still wanting to do what he could do. The grin faded. “Please, Mickie.”
“Why?”
“Because I was alone for a long time, too. I get it.”
Why are you being like this? Because you trusted a man once before, that’s why. But she was so tempted. A washer and dryer! Right next door. No more two-hour trips to the Laundromat twice a week? She drew in a breath. “Okay.”
His smile returned. “Okay?”
“I’ll use your stupid washer and dryer. But only because it means so much to you. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Of course you are. Now, give me the baby.”
She handed Ian over to him. He looked mildly afraid and awkwardly maneuvered the sleeping toddler in his arms. But he figured it out and looked over at her. “Dang. He’s heavier than I remember. How do you lug him around all day?”
“It’s called being a mother.”
HIS PHONE WAS like a mosquito in a dark bedroom; the minute you thought it’d flown away, it buzzed again. He would have turned off the sound but he was waiting for a couple of calls he couldn’t miss. Josh tried to ignore it, tried to concentrate on the young man sitting across from him. His application had looked good and he had some experience. His father ran an industrial cleaning company. They went into office buildings at night and cleaned. Dean had helped out over the summers while he was in high school. He seemed like a bright guy and he knew Sadie would approve.
The phone jittered on the table. He glanced down. Sent it to voice mail.
“This all looks great. I’ll get you started on the testing now. After I get the results and talk to your references...”
“There’s a woman at the door,” Travis said, pointing over Josh’s shoulder.
Josh twisted to look. It was Mickie. And the baby sleeping in his stroller. She had a duffel bag hooked over a shoulder. He held back the grin. It had been almost a week since the night she’d let him carry Ian back to her front door. He’d been letting her have her space. Like a head-shy puppy, he knew she’d run if he even looked at her funny. As he stood, she began to shake her head and step back.
“Sorry,” she said as he slid the door open. “It’s a bad time. I’ll come back later.”
“No, come on in.”
“You sure?”
“If you don’t, I’ll wake the baby.”
That earned him a twist of her luscious lips and a raised eyebrow. “You wake the baby and I’ll leave him here with you.”
He pushed the door open wider. “See? Now you have to come in. For Ian’s own protection.” He turned away and motioned to Travis. “Come on, I’ll set up the testing programs for you.”
He had the testing room set up in the second bedroom. As he got Travis settled part of him was listening to Mickie humming slightly off-key as she started the washer.
“Your phone is buzzing,” she called out.
“What’s it say?”
Pause. “Unknown number.”
“Ignore it.”
He turned back to Travis. “There are two tests. They are both fairly long, about a hundred questions each. After the first is done, the second should load automatically. Let me know if it doesn’t. Bathroom is across the hall if you need, there’s no time limit. Get me if you have any problems or questions.”
“It buzzed two more times,” Mickie said as he returned to the kitchen. She stopped, turned, looked back and met his gaze directly. “Both unknowns so I ignored them.”
“Thanks.”
“If it’s okay, I’ll just leave the duffel here. I’ve got another load.”
“That’s fine.”
As she worked the stroller out the back door, she said, “Thanks again.”
“No problem.”
He watched her leave, a little dizzy with the whirl of desire he was feeling. Part of him wanted to put an arm around her and help solve all her problems, while the other wanted to lift her up on the washer and step between those legs and...
The phone buzzed and the doorbell rang. Shit. It was DeShawn on the phone. And at the door was his next applicant, early for his interview. Of course. So, while the interviewee cooled his heels on the couch, Josh talked DeShawn through getting the behavior contract signed with a touchy client. Mickie came and went, doing an exaggerated tiptoe across the room that made him smile.
When she came back next, he was on his third interview. Travis was finishing up his testing, applicant number two was beginning his test and Josh was about to take a hammer to the phone. She gave a quick wave and began to fold the laundry from the dryer. Josh found it hard to fully concentrate on his interview with the motion of her body and the sway of her long hair in the periphery of his vision. The phone buzzed again. He reached out, but Mickie scooped the phone off the table.
“The Cleaning Crew, this is Mickie. How may I help you?”
Josh’s mouth dropped open for a second and he snapped it shut. What the heck was she doing? And good God, where did that phone-sex voice come from?
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you so much. Mr. Sanders is in a meeting right now. If you’d like to leave your name and number, I will have him get in touch with you for an estimate.”
She made a writing motion with her free hand. Josh handed her his pen. She snatched a page of a résumé off the desk and began to write. When she hung up, he lifted his hands, palms up, not quite sure how he felt about it. “What are you doing?” he asked.
She smiled and reached across the table to steal one of the stacks of yellow legal tablets he liked to use for to-do lists. “Paying for the laundry,” she said.
She maneuvered the stroller into the living room and came back to gather her clean clothes in her arms before returning to the living room. Josh turned his attention back to the poor guy who’d just had his interview interrupted at least a dozen times. He’d deal with Mickie in a minute. When he was done. She knew nothing about his business. She should not be answering phones and dealing with customers. True, a part of him said, but is it worse than sending them to voice mail? And he couldn’t ignore how much more smoothly he got the interview and testing done without the nagging buzz of the phone. An hour later, he shut the door as the last of the three finished. Mickie handed him the legal tablet.
“This column here,” she said as her finger traced down the page, “is people who want an estimate on cleaning services. This one was guys looking for information on applying. This was your boss, I think. Sadie,