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Authors: Katie Graykowski
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said as she set the chair down on the dry pool decking.
“I know, but it’s frustrating. I want to yell and punish them, but I suck at it.” He set down the table and chair. He pointed at her. “If you repeat that to another living soul, I’ll have your head.”
“Beheadings at the Robbins Manor. I bet the media would love that.” Grace made direct eye contact. “They were only trying to help, but you need to punish them. In a strange way, it will make them feel better. That’s the way of society, you make a mistake, make restitution, learn from it, and move on. If there’s no restitution, there’s no learning. No consequences equals spoiled brats.”
“Can we try to salvage the house, before you lecture me on parenting?” Chord sounded frustrated.
“Too late.” Grace headed back to the house for another load. “Just promise me we can talk about a punishment, and once it’s been given you’ll stick to it.”
Chord was close on her heels. “Done. Now can we get back to my pool house? It looks like the set of Titanic.” He stopped and surveyed the damage. “I guess you’ll be moving into the house. I’d thought you might like your own space out here, but unless you like living in mold, you’re moving in with us.” Was it a trick of the lighting or was there a twinkle in his eyes. “Right next to me.”
The thought of sharing a bed with him had blood rushing to her face. She was willing to acknowledge the spark of attraction between them. Just because she recognized it, didn’t mean she was going to act on it. “In the room next to yours.”
A slow, sexy smile worked its way across his face. “That’s what I meant.”
Devon, Clint, and a couple of the offensive line ran through the open door and grabbed the sofa, loveseat, and coffee table.
“Do you have a shop vac?” She avoided Chord’s eyes.
“In the garage.” He thumbed in the general direction of the garage.
“I’ll get it.” Grace was on fire. She had a feeling that sexual innuendo was Chord’s favorite method of conversation when it came to women. There’s wasn’t a chance in hell she was ending up as another notch on his bedpost. She liked life with the kids, she’d encourage Chord to choose his sexual partners from the Debras of the world. Grace bit the inside of her cheek. That thought made her want to hit something…or someone…with her car. She pictured Debra as a speed bump and shook her head. Her crappy Karmann Ghia wouldn’t do nearly enough damage.
Chapter 9
That night after dinner, Chord called a family meeting. What he was going to do in that meeting, made the pot roast and mashed potatoes Grace had made for dinner almost come back up. As he sat at his desk in his study, mentally gearing up, he now understood why medieval executioners wore masks, so they could hide from what they were doing. If only he could hide from what he was about to do.
Punishing the boys…he felt the noose tightening around his own neck. While Grace cooked dinner, they had discussed a fair punishment. Chord agreed that it fit the crime, but still, his sweet boys were only eight. Then again, they’d flooded his pool house, but thanks to them, Grace was sleeping in the room right next door to his. He smiled, and some of the tension eased.
Grace…he’d spent the better part of dinner staring at her breasts. Every time she’d caught him looking, her cheeks had turned pink. While sleeping with her might not be a good idea, it would be a lot of fun. He took a moment to imagine her long legs wrapped around him as he explored her body. His brows scrunched together. They couldn’t do it with the kids around because that wouldn’t be right. Even if the kids were out of the house, they couldn’t do it in his bedroom. Grace didn’t like all that pink, and neither did he. Tomorrow, he had a contractor coming to assess the damage to the pool house, why not have him bid out the master bedroom.
He stood and tunneled
“I know, but it’s frustrating. I want to yell and punish them, but I suck at it.” He set down the table and chair. He pointed at her. “If you repeat that to another living soul, I’ll have your head.”
“Beheadings at the Robbins Manor. I bet the media would love that.” Grace made direct eye contact. “They were only trying to help, but you need to punish them. In a strange way, it will make them feel better. That’s the way of society, you make a mistake, make restitution, learn from it, and move on. If there’s no restitution, there’s no learning. No consequences equals spoiled brats.”
“Can we try to salvage the house, before you lecture me on parenting?” Chord sounded frustrated.
“Too late.” Grace headed back to the house for another load. “Just promise me we can talk about a punishment, and once it’s been given you’ll stick to it.”
Chord was close on her heels. “Done. Now can we get back to my pool house? It looks like the set of Titanic.” He stopped and surveyed the damage. “I guess you’ll be moving into the house. I’d thought you might like your own space out here, but unless you like living in mold, you’re moving in with us.” Was it a trick of the lighting or was there a twinkle in his eyes. “Right next to me.”
The thought of sharing a bed with him had blood rushing to her face. She was willing to acknowledge the spark of attraction between them. Just because she recognized it, didn’t mean she was going to act on it. “In the room next to yours.”
A slow, sexy smile worked its way across his face. “That’s what I meant.”
Devon, Clint, and a couple of the offensive line ran through the open door and grabbed the sofa, loveseat, and coffee table.
“Do you have a shop vac?” She avoided Chord’s eyes.
“In the garage.” He thumbed in the general direction of the garage.
“I’ll get it.” Grace was on fire. She had a feeling that sexual innuendo was Chord’s favorite method of conversation when it came to women. There’s wasn’t a chance in hell she was ending up as another notch on his bedpost. She liked life with the kids, she’d encourage Chord to choose his sexual partners from the Debras of the world. Grace bit the inside of her cheek. That thought made her want to hit something…or someone…with her car. She pictured Debra as a speed bump and shook her head. Her crappy Karmann Ghia wouldn’t do nearly enough damage.
Chapter 9
That night after dinner, Chord called a family meeting. What he was going to do in that meeting, made the pot roast and mashed potatoes Grace had made for dinner almost come back up. As he sat at his desk in his study, mentally gearing up, he now understood why medieval executioners wore masks, so they could hide from what they were doing. If only he could hide from what he was about to do.
Punishing the boys…he felt the noose tightening around his own neck. While Grace cooked dinner, they had discussed a fair punishment. Chord agreed that it fit the crime, but still, his sweet boys were only eight. Then again, they’d flooded his pool house, but thanks to them, Grace was sleeping in the room right next door to his. He smiled, and some of the tension eased.
Grace…he’d spent the better part of dinner staring at her breasts. Every time she’d caught him looking, her cheeks had turned pink. While sleeping with her might not be a good idea, it would be a lot of fun. He took a moment to imagine her long legs wrapped around him as he explored her body. His brows scrunched together. They couldn’t do it with the kids around because that wouldn’t be right. Even if the kids were out of the house, they couldn’t do it in his bedroom. Grace didn’t like all that pink, and neither did he. Tomorrow, he had a contractor coming to assess the damage to the pool house, why not have him bid out the master bedroom.
He stood and tunneled
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