Somethin' Dirty: Country Fever, Book 4 by Em Petrova Read Free Book Online Page A

the things for her, which was good because she needed to learn where everything was on her own.
    And she didn’t want to appear incompetent.
    When she sank to the sofa with the baby in her arms, he said, “Looks as if you have everything under control. I’ll be outside. Holler if you need me.”
    A sliver of want did a backstroke down her spine. Without looking up from her task of feeding Lyric, she nodded. “Thanks.”
    Focusing on the baby, she let her mind wander. What had happened to Lyric’s mother? Under what circumstances had Griffin gotten custody of his daughter? And had he loved her mother?
    She searched the baby’s tiny features for traces of the parents. The fuzz on her head was coming in dark, pointing to her paternal heritage. But perhaps her mother had been dark-haired too.
    The child’s snub nose and chubby cheeks gave no hint of what she’d look like as an adult. Nola cast a glance around the living room. A field stone fireplace stood cold with ashes, and a thick wooden beam mantel was devoid of photographs. The only picture in the room was a big canvas photo of Lyric as a newborn.
    Nola’s heart echoed with the emptiness Griffin must feel in his life. No wonder he’d looked at her like that from the doorway. Having a woman in his house, caring for his daughter, probably gave him the feeling of a family.
    But not with her. Nope, she was just an employee, stockpiling cash so she could break for Nashville. There, she’d hit all of the local haunts and try to meet with some music executives.
    Sated, Lyric drifted into a deep sleep. Nola dreaded even standing up, afraid she’d wake up. Finally, she awkwardly shifted the baby and laid her in the bassinet against the living room wall and covered her with a soft, crocheted blanket. She grinned down at her for a moment. Everything on her was pink, from her sleeper to the pink hearts on her diaper. The blanket and bassinet were both pink, and her bedroom was a pink explosion.
    Funny, because a single dad might have chosen more masculine accoutrements for his daughter. One thing was certain—Griffin had a story, and whether Nola liked it or not, curiosity burned in her gut.
    She puttered around the living room, cleaning up. Now this she knew how to do.
    Then she figured out the washing machine and set it to wash a load of baby clothes. When she turned to leave the small laundry area, a wall of muscle blocked her.
    Sucking in a deep breath of surprise was a bad idea. Griffin’s musky male spice filled her head.
    “Find everything okay?” His voice dipped low, then he cleared his throat. “Need any help?”
    She clasped her hands together. “Nope. Got it under control.”
    He shifted to the side and let her pass. As she moved to the kitchen to continue her chores, her skin prickled. Was he staring at her ass?
    Warmth settled low in her belly. As fast as the heat pooled, she doused it. The last thing she needed was to feed into her attraction for him. He was dangerous enough with his rugged good looks.
    He followed her into the kitchen. While he leaned against the counter, sipping a glass of sweet tea, she opened and closed cupboards to find homes for the clean dishes. Holding a casserole dish, she raised a brow at him.
    His heavy stare rooted her to the floor. “Cupboard beside the sink.”
    “Thanks.”
    Was he going to hang over her, watching her every move?
    Annoyance filtered into her system, followed by the realization that she wanted him to want to be around her.
    Oh no. Time to put on the brakes.
    She spun from the dishwasher but couldn’t quite meet his gaze. “Well, that’s it for now. Do you need anything before I go?”
    “No, everything seems to be in order.” He reached out then pulled his hand back and ran it through his hair.
    Nodding, she said, “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”
    When she moved toward the mudroom, he sidestepped right into her path. Before she gave in to her burning want, she extended her hand to