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He leans forward, placing his hands on either side of the desk. His chest touches mine, and his hips press against my outer thigh. "Scenario two. I'm a coward, too afraid to admit my feelings, the crush I have had on you for years. So we drift apart, and our connection is never fully realized. My loss."
I raise my head and tilt it up slightly to challenge him. "I like the first idea better."
"Yeah?" He wraps his fingers around my hips and slides me toward him.
As I float along the floor, I try to force my heartbeat to slow. "Yeah. I'm a big proponent of exploring opportunities."
He doesn't miss a beat. He leans down and crushes his lips to mine. Our mouths meld together in a fervent embrace, eachmovement a dance of desire. It feels warm, comforting, and thrilling all at the same time. My heart pounds like a drum, begging me to grab onto his handsome face and never let him go.
When he pulls away, a low moan slips past my throat, and he looks down at me with sultry eyes. Color flushes his cheeks, and his eyes are heavy and hungry. The tension in my shoulders swells and spreads through the rest of my body. Deacon rests his forehead on mine.
"Well, I guess better late than never, right?"
Chapter ten
DEACON
I've been lying awake all night, thinking about Harper. Her smell, the way she felt in my arms. And that kiss... It was amazing. I'd spent my entire high school career dreaming about kissing Harper Clark, and a decade later when it actually happened, it lived up to all of my expectations. It was explosive and electric, yet gentle. Everything I ever imagined.
But as soon as I got home it hit me just how terrible of an idea kissing her was. She's my employee, I was supposed to be keeping the boundaries. I can't imagine how awkward things will be around the resort if we pursue things and it doesn't work out. There's just no way we can sustain something like that and work together day in and day out. Right?
But the way my skin fluttered under her fingertips when she touched me stays on repeat. I haven't had a reaction like that to someone's touch... ever. Even Sasha's mom didn't make me feel that way. It's pure and real, and all the more reason to leave it alone.
My alarm finally goes off at five thirty in the morning, and I roll out of bed with a grunt. My body protests as the blood moves, stretching muscles in my arms and legs. I got almost no sleep, but I have no time for weakness. A little extra coffee will help.
Dragging my tired body through my morning routine, I get showered and dressed before I start cooking breakfast for Sasha. When she doesn't come running, I check her bedroom. But the bed is empty, so I knock on her bathroom door.
"Come in," she says, the sound muted.
"Good morning." I crack the door open and peek inside. Sasha is brushing her teeth, but she's dressed and just about ready to go. "Wow, that's a record. I didn't even have to drag you out from under the covers!"
"Morning!" she mumbles through a foamy mouth.
"Who are you and what have you done with my daughter? My Sasha hates mornings."
"Uhh," she glances up, her wide brown eyes framed by two round cheeks. "It's me Daddy, Sasha. Obviously."
"Oh, good." I check my watch. "Breakfast is ready when you are. I made pancakes. I'll be in the kitchen."
When I close the bathroom door and walk to the kitchen, that heavy dread swims back through my gut. Sasha is supposed to come to the office after school today, and she'll want to spend time with Harper. I rub my face to relieve some of the pressure and pour another cup of coffee. The strong, black liquid gives me a shot of energy. The sun is barely awake, its fingertips of rosy light only beginning to slip through the sky.
Last night was fun, exciting, and surprising, but it can't happen again. I've finally found a woman who can fill at least some of the void Sasha's mom left. And now is not the time to jeopardize that. It makes way more sense to just stay friendswith Harper and let her relationship with my daughter flourish. That should be enough for me, anyway.
But to be honest, it's not. There is something more than friendship for Harper growing inside of me. Something hot and thick that burns when I see her smile. Every time she laughs or rolls her eyes or talks about something I've said, there's a swell of happiness in my stomach. And every single moment my brain isn’t occupied with thoughts of Harper, it's been clouded over with questions about Sasha and how she's settling in here.
"Hey," Sasha says as she enters the kitchen, breaking me out of my head.
I pull my attention away from my mug. "Hey, sweetheart. Grab a plate and take a seat. Pancakes are right over on the island."
"Yum!" she cries, tugging a plate out and heaping two pancakes onto her dish. After smothering them with syrup, she grabs her silverware and sits across from me. The noise of her silverware tapping her plate takes on a rhythm as she eats, and I focus on that until it stops. It's something to distract me, at least.
Sasha dabs her lips and sets the napkin back on the table. "Daddy, will Harper be at the resort when I get there after school today? I want to see her."
My stomach hardens at her hopeful tone. I want to see her too, but I'm not about to tell my six-year-old that. It makes me feel like a coward, but it would just be easier if I stuck to my ground rules. I nod my head anyway. "Yes, baby girl. She'll be there. I'm sure she's excited to see you, too."
"I made her a special drawing." She grins and then shovels the rest of the pancake in her mouth, swallowing it almost whole. "It's a surprise, so don't tell her."
"Of course," I chuckle. "And, um, I'm sure she'll love it."
