Except…doing those dishes had been fun, damn it.
Everything he did with Miranda was fun.
“Fuck,” he mumbled.
She glanced over, her hazel eyes flickering with confusion. “What?”
“Nothing,” he lied. “Just thinking about how the rugrat might be right—that bird really does look like a shithead.”
Miranda threw her head back and laughed, and it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.
It was also another sign that he was treading into some very dangerous territory.
He thought doing chores as a couple was fun?
He thought the sound of her laughter was sweet?
Fuck.
Two weeks later
“Jeez, someone call the smile police,” Andre announced with a laugh. “You’ve smiled so many times in the last ten minutes it ought to be illegal.”
“Seriously,” Ginny agreed. “What kind of happy drug are you on and where can I get some?”
“Can’t a girl be in a good mood?” Miranda lifted one leg and rested her ankle on the sleek ballet barre spanning the studio wall. She curled her spine and reached to grasp her toes with her hands, and as she stretched, she tilted her head at the two instructors sprawled on the blue mats. “You’re acting as if I usually walk around here like the Grinch. I smile all the time.”
“Not this much,” Andre countered.
“Not this much,” Ginny echoed.
With a laugh, she switched legs and began a new series of stretches. Truth was, she knew exactly what they were talking about. She’d noticed it herself these past couple of weeks. Her spirits were at an all-time high, and she was smiling so often her facial muscles were beginning to hurt. She couldn’t help it, though. Life was good. Her apartment showed no signs of the damage caused by the flood, seven new students had enrolled at the school, and the preparations for the summer recital were coming along well.
Oh, and she was having mind-shattering orgasms on a daily basis.
What was there to complain about?
“So,” Andre said, catching Miranda’s eye in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors that took up one entire wall of the studio, “what’s his name and why don’t you ever bring him by the school?”
She finished her stretch, then walked across the shiny floor toward the two teachers. They’d all come in early this afternoon to go over some details about the recital, but now that they’d squared everything away they had some time to kill before students started showing up.
Plopping down on one of the mats, she grinned at Andre. “His name is Seth, and he doesn’t come by because there’s no such thing as Bring-Your-Fling-To-Work Day.”
Ginny, a slight blonde with big gray eyes and an endless supply of energy, snickered loudly. “Well, there should be because that sounds awesome.”
“So it’s really just a fling?” Andre’s brows drew together in a frown. “Doesn’t seem like your style, boss.”
She was about to say “it isn’t”, until she remembered that her only other sexual relationship had been nothing but a fling too. At the time, she’d thought she loved Trent, but it wasn’t until after he’d deposited her back in Vegas and told her to “get rid of the kid” that she’d realized how naïve she’d been. Trent hadn’t loved her, and now, seven years later, she understood that she hadn’t loved him either. It had been nothing more than girlish infatuation.
With Seth, it wasn’t much different. She was an adult now, and she was well aware that sex and love didn’t necessarily go hand in hand. She was sleeping with Seth, yes. She enjoyed spending time with him, of course. But to call this anything other than a fling? Maybe if she was still a naïve girl, sure, but the eighteen-year-old Miranda had bid good-bye to her naiveté in that delivery room giving birth to twins.
“I’m just having a little fun,” she answered, her tone noncommittal. “It’s not serious at all.”
Ginny leaned back on her elbows, her elfin features filling with curiosity. “What’s he like?”
“He’s…” she sighed, “…the consummate bad boy. Smokes, hardly ever shaves, says what’s on his mind, rough around the edges.”
“Great in bed?” Ginny teased.
“What do you think?” she said dryly.
Andre’s expression remained grave. “And you don’t think it could lead to anything serious? There are no emotions involved at all?”
She didn’t miss the irony that the female teacher was trying to score the sex details while her male counterpart was more concerned about the emotional nature of Miranda’s relationship.
“Of course there are,” she told him. “There’s bound to be some emotions whenever you’re sleeping with someone. But this won’t become serious.”
“You sound very sure of that.”
“I am.” Confidence rang from those two words. “Seth is fun to be with, and he’s unarguably amazing in bed, but he’s not someone I can see myself with in the long-term. When or if I make a commitment to someone, it has to be with a man who’s willing to be there for my kids.”
Now Ginny was frowning, her silvery eyes losing that gleam of humor. “Wait—are you saying he doesn’t like Soph and Jase? How could anyone not like those two?”
Miranda exhaled slowly. “It’s not that he doesn’t like them per se. I think kids make him uncomfortable. Not just mine, but all children. With Sophie and Jason, he just sort of…tolerates them, know what I mean? But I’m pretty sure that if he had the choice, he wouldn’t want them around.”