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“He’d be safe around Miss Di Campi,” Blakely, her eldest daughter, laughs.
“She sounds cute.”
“Yeah,” Maggie scoffs, “real cute.”
“If wrinkly cat ladies are your thing,” Blakely adds with a smartass grin in my direction, before she studies me with a disgusted pout. “Why are you naked and sweaty?”
“I’m not naked.”
“You’re not wearing a top.”
“He never wears a top,” Blaire chuckles, flexing her arms as if to show off her biceps. “He likes to show off his guns.”
“Seriously,” Maggie groans. “You’ve been here less than forty-eight hours and my kids already sound like bimbos.”
“What’s a bimbo?” Brooks asks, spitting milk and Honey Oh’s everywhere.
“They’re—”
“No, Blakely.” Maggie stops her daughter from answering while she cleans up Brooks’s drool from the counter and his chin.
“What?”
“I thought you were going for a run?” she asks me pointedly, ignoring the funny face Blakely pulls. “I have a meeting with my bookkeeper. She’ll be here any moment, so…” Finishing her sentence with a shoo of her hands my way, Maggie stalks me to the hallway as I ask teasingly, “She?”
“Do not even think about it!”
“Is she hot?”
The girls laugh while Maggie slaps my chest. “You’re not even funny.”
“She’s pretty, Uncle Brody,” Blaire calls at me, ever the rebel.
“You’re a bad influence,” Maggie grumbles, trudging backwards into the kitchen as I open the front door and suck in a deep breath of briny air.
The beach is practically on the doorstep, and as I head out, ready to pound the dirt, I plug in my AirPods. CamelPhat’s Breathe blares on as I start a slow stride through the front yard, only to come to a halting stop when I crash into Maggie’s visitor.
“Shit!” I grasp the woman’s arms to stop her from careening onto her ass, but her large purse falls to the ground instead. “Sorr—”
I pause, as bright sea-green eyes widen on mine and while she pulls back, her hands tighten on my biceps. The girl from the pub last night has a deer in headlights shocked look about her while her jaw clenches so hard I’m surprised I don’t hear the grit of her teeth over the music in my ears.
“We need to stop meeting like this.” I grin, releasing her so I can pull an AirPod out and grab her purse from the ground.
My pulse stutters as she narrows her eyes on mine, tilting her head to the side with an unamused expression. Grasping her purse that’s in my hand, she grumbles, “Maybe you need to watch where you’re going?”
Gold-freckled cheeks flush when her fingers graze mine and her eyes fall between us, flashing to my chest. In the morning sun, she’s prettier than I remember. And when my gaze flits down to her lips, I can’t escape the promise of a good time they hold in their plumpness.
Yeah, she’s totally unassumingly beautiful with her thick red hair, high cheekbones, bright eyes, and plump lips. When I edge closer, the hitch of her breath presses her chest to mine, so that her ample tits are sandwiched between us.
Fuuuuck. “I don’t even know your name to be this close,” I mutter hoarsely.
It’s a stupid remark, and I regret it instantly when she pulls back quickly, putting far too much space between us. She stares at the ground, swallowing loudly as her lashes flutter with conflict tugging at her brows.
The front door opens behind me when the school bus pulls up to the curb ahead, and as the girls rush past us with a giggled, “Good Morning”, she brushes her straight tresses over her shoulder. Eyes flashing to mine, she states, “You don’t need to know my name.”
Maybe I don’t need to, but I want to. I want to know her name, and the glisten of her lips makes me want to taste them…bite them. I want to make them a brighter shade of abused red with my teeth.
Before I can say anything else, she tugs her purse completely out of my hold and rounds me to meet Maggie on her porch. As I’m about to put my AirPod back in, I hear her ask, “Who’s that?”
