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His lips were on me again, kissing my neck, his teeth gently biting. I heard the waves crash on the shore and for a moment I felt as though he was the waves and I was the shore.
"Cole," I breathed, arching into his touch, "don't stop."
And then, as if on cue, a voice from up above shouted, "Daddy?"
"Fuck," Cole groaned, reluctantly untangling himself from our embrace. "It's Lexi."
"It's okay.”
Lexi and Rhea came down the steps together. "There you are! Jack says he wants to fight you!"
Cole laughed, although I could tell he was nervous. "Is that so?" Then, he turned to me, and, using the worst acting the world had ever seen, he said, "And that's about it in terms of what I did to the pier, maintenance-wise. We used three-inch screws, like you guessed."
"Three-inch screws, huh?" I waggled my eyebrows, unable to resist.
I swear I saw him blush. "Actually, you're right. They're significantly bigger."
"Grown-ups are so boring," Lexi whined, grabbing Cole's arm and dragging him back up the steps.
We rejoined the party, doing everything we could to act like nothing had changed.
But everything had changed.
CHAPTER TEN
Cole
Ever since dropping the girls back at Stephanie's last night, my life has been one long Rocky montage.
Stress makes me exercise. It's the only way I know how to cope.
I punctuated each word with a punch. "You. Kissed. Her. Right. Near. Your. Kids."
Sweat poured down my face as I pummeled the heavy bag hanging from my living room ceiling, my knuckles aching from the relentless assault. Fury coursed through me—fury at my weakness, my irresponsibility, my utter lack of control. But worst of all, I was furious at how much I'd enjoyed it.
Her calling me a softie had lit a fire in me, an all-consuming need to prove her wrong. I attacked the bag with renewed vigor. "Stop. Acting. Like. A. Teenager."
That was how I felt. Like a reckless adolescent, out of control, drunk on lust and low on caution. I couldn't afford to act like that. Not again. The kids had nearly caught us. They'd endured enough upheaval lately. The last thing they needed was to see their dad making out with their neighbor under the pier. I hit the bag harder, as if that would wash away my mistake.
On top of it all, I’d made that stupid bet with Ethan. If he found out about the kiss, I’d be forced to take a fucking weeklong vacation, which was the last thing I needed.
I growled as my phone beeped, signaling the end of my workout. But I didn’t stop. Instead, I unleashed a flurry of punches, pouring every ounce of emotion into the bag until my lungs screamed for mercy. Doubled over, panting, I choked out, "Get it together, Cole."
As my heartbeat gradually recovered, I looked at myself in the mirror. Red in the face. Gray in the hair. Old. Weak.
In just half an hour, I'd be meeting Elara at O'Neil's to start work. I'd decided that I was going to let her know, in no uncertain terms, that I would not be kissing her again. We would not be having any of that “fun” she’d talked about. I even had a little speech prepared, damn it.
I practiced one last time as I showered.
Elara, we need to talk. . . .
Last night, I'd loaded up the pickup with all the necessary tools and supplies, including a wallpaper steamer. So now, I just grabbed my keys and headed to the bar, ready to get down to business. The quicker I got this job over and done with, the better.
The sun blazed overhead as I pulled up outside the bar. Elara was there, waiting for me on the sidewalk. She looked stunning, but never mind. I wasn't interested. Who cared that she was wearing insanely short, torn denim shorts? Who cared that her T- shirt was cut short, revealing a toned, tanned midriff that was so sexy I practically groaned? Who cared that she had the legs of an athlete and the eyes of a princess?
Not me. That's who. I didn't care.
I was a Navy SEAL, not a horny kid. I was here to execute my mission, and then extract like a professional.
