Chapter 3 Austin

I probably shouldn’t have called her a princess. That was a dick move, but she’s really pissing me off. Why is it so hard for her to just accept the fact that Brady wants me here and I’m not going anywhere? Who knows what the fuck made her zone out, her hands shake and had her spilling hot coffee over herself. All that irritability bottled up in her tiny, well-endowed body probably short-circuted her brain. Remind me never to call her any names again. Next time she might throw that cup at my head.

Before I can try to reason with her again, my eyes widen in surprise as a mini version of Gwen comes racing into the office and throws herself at the woman whose ass I’d been staring at when she bent over to throw away the kleenex.

“Hi baby! How was your day?” Gwen asks the little girl as she scoops her up in her arms and peppers her face with kisses.

An older woman, I didn’t even notice following behind the girl, stands off to the side with a pink backpack in her hands.

“I colored you a picture at Miss Karen’s and I got to watch a princess movie!” the girl replies excitedly.

Gwen holds onto her tightly and then turns to the woman. “Thanks for dropping her off, Karen.”

“No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow,” the woman replies before setting the backpack down on the floor. “Bye, Emma!”

The girl turns in Gwen’s arms and waves. “Bye, Miss Karen!”

As the woman leaves, Gwen sets the girl down and she immediately walks over to me.

“Who are you?” she asks, looking up at me.

“I was just going to ask you the same thing.”

I look over at Gwen with my eyebrow raised. How in the hell did Brady never mention his sister had a kid? I don’t like kids. They’re small and they talk too much.

“This is Mr. Austin. And he was just leaving,” Gwen says, looking pointedly at me.

Yeah, I don’t think so.

“Austin is the capital of Texas. Do you like pink? My favorite color is pink.”

Bending down to get a better look at the little pipsqueak, I see she has the exact same gray colored eyes as her mother, the same smattering of freckles over her nose and the same dark brown hair. Gwen though, has added a few streaks of blue and purple to hers and I’m not gonna lie, it’s hot as fuck.

“You’re pretty smart for a kid. What are you, like twelve or something?”

Glancing up, I see Gwen giving me the stink-eye.

“You’re funny,” Emma says with a laugh. “I’m six. My mom says I’m really smart. Are you smart? Do you have a job?”

Gwen snorts and now it’s my turn to glare at her before looking back at Emma. “I’m a genius. And I’m also a Navy SEAL, which makes me pretty bad ass.”

Emma holds her hand out in front of me and taps her foot. “One dollar, please.”

Pushing myself up to my full height, I stare down at her in confusion. “Uh, one dollar for what?”

“One dollar for the swear jar. You said a bad word. Every time my mom says a bad word I get a dollar for my college fund,” Emma replies without missing a beat.

Awww shit. That’s right. You’re not supposed to swear in front of kids.

With a sigh, I reach into my back pocket and pull out my wallet, forking over a five. “Here, keep the change. I’m sure I’ll be putting you through college in no time.”

Emma snatches the five out of my hand and runs over to Gwen. Little Miss Perfect over there probably never swears in front of her kid. And now she’s got one more thing to add to her ever-growing list of reasons why she hates me and doesn’t want me here.

“Look, mom! I got five dollars. That makes a total of…”

I watch as Emma tries to calculate in her head, scrunching up her face and thinking really hard. It would be kind of cute if I thought kids were cute. Which I don’t. At all.

“That brings you up to sixty-two dollars,” Gwen tells her quietly.

I can’t help the bark of laughter that bursts out of me. “Well, well, well. Looks like someone has a potty mouth.”

Gwen huffs, taking the five dollars from Emma and sticking it into the front pocket of her jeans. “You’re forgetting we live with my brother. Uncle Brady isn’t used to living with a little girl, right Emma?”

Emma giggles and shakes her head at Gwen. “Last week you gave me twenty dollars when you were trying to fix the leak under the kitchen sink. And the week before that you gave me ten dollars when you dropped a big book on your toe. And the day before that-”

Gwen immediately cuts her off by placing her palm over Emma’s mouth. I think I might be changing my mind on my opinion of kids. Staring at Gwen challengingly, I wait for her to explain.

She sighs. “It’s been a bad couple of weeks. Emma, why don’t you take your bag into the back room and get started on your homework?”

Gwen removes her hand from Emma’s mouth and the little girl smiles up at me before scooping up her backpack and racing off to the back room.

When Emma is gone, I watch as Gwen nervously fiddles with things on Brady’s desk. She rearranges a cup full of pens, moves a legal pad to an opposite corner and straightens the desk calendar that doesn’t need straightening – anything she can do to avoid looking at me.

After a few minutes, I decide to break the silence. “Cute kid you got there.”

She finally turns to face me and gone is the irritation that’s been there since I walked through the door. She suddenly looks small and vulnerable. Looks like I finally found the one thing, or person, who can melt this woman’s heart of stone.

“Where’s the father?” I ask curiously.

I know Gwen lives with Brady and she doesn’t have a ring on her finger, so obviously there isn’t a man in the picture.

“That’s none of your business,” she replies haughtily.

Poor guy probably couldn’t stand to be around her bad attitude for more than one night; I feel his pain.

“Hey, I’m just trying to make conversation. We’re going to be working together so we might as well get to know each other,” I tell her with a smile.

“There’s nothing you need to know about myself or my daughter. And how many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want you here?” She asks angrily.

“Look, I could give a rat’s ass if you want me here or not. I’m staying, end of. Your brother is worried and it must be for a good reason. This isn’t just you we’re talking about here. You’ve got a kid, much to my amazement. If you’re too stubborn to let me look out for you, at least I can keep an eye on her.”

I watch as anger flares in her eyes at the mention of Emma. Her hands ball into fists at her sides and her breathing picks up, her chest heaving with barely concealed fury. “I can look after my daughter just fine without your help. She’s my responsibility and I will keep her safe on my own, just like I’ve done for her entire life. Go. Away.”

Jesus Christ, I’ve never even met al-Qaeda members who were this annoying.

At least she’s got one thing going for her – she’s consistently a bitch. I can handle bitchy Gwen. That whole scene with her freaking out and spilling coffee is out of my comfort zone. She looked scared to death and helpless. It took everything in me not to pull her into my arms and tell her everything would be okay. That alone should have me running out of here like my ass is on fire. I don’t do touchy-feely, comforting shit. Good to know she seems to be the type of person who would rather chew off her own arm than accept comfort from someone else.

“Darlin’, you can tell me to leave until you’re blue in the face. I’m not going anywhere until Brady comes home, so get that stick out of your ass and get used to it,” I tell her, flopping down on the chair at Brady’s desk and clasping my hands behind my head.

With a frustrated growl, she turns and stomps off to the back room.

As I stare at her ass in those tight jeans until she disappears from sight, I can’t help but wonder what the fuck her deal is. How can someone so small be full of so much piss and vinegar? At least one good thing will come of her being such a bitch – I won’t be tempted to sleep with her anytime soon. I prefer a woman to use her tongue on me for pleasure, not making me miserable with her verbal lashes.

Brady is going to owe me big time for this shit.

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