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Straightening, I tug a hand across my face. “Yeah. Just tired. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure? You don’t look fine. I thought today went well, no?”

“It went really well.” I offer her a tight smile. “Eva’s going to kill it with this cookbook, no question.”

Mom tilts her head. “Then why the puppy dog eyes? Something happen?”

“No. Nope. Really, Mom, I’m okay. Let’s go say goodbye to everyone, all right?”

Mom studies me for a moment. I know this look. She’s debating whether or not to buy my bullshit.

We both startle at the piercing wail that fills the air.

“Five o’clock?” I ask, twisting my wrist to check my watch.

“Yep,” Mom replies. “Gotta give it to Bryce. Girl’s always on time.”

I rise to my feet with a groan. My stomach and my chest feel uncomfortably full. “When it comes to the witching hour she is.”

Back inside, Bryce is in Dad’s arms sobbing about—well, difficult to make out when she tells me, something about glitter and a gnome and her tooth, but at this point, it hardly matters. She’s toast. If I don’t get her home soon, we’ll be in full meltdown mode. And that is not fun for anyone.

“We should get going,” I say. I grab Bryce’s backpack from a nearby chair and hook it over my shoulder. Then I take Bryce and wrap her in a hug.

My daughter curls into my chest. I stroke her hair, trying my best to calm her down while sneaking a glance around the barn. Eva is in a far corner with Alex, the two of them folding tablecloths. Eva is lit up and laughing. On cloud nine after a hugely successful day.

Longing grips my heart and squeezes.

Pump the brakes.

I have to stop wanting her like this. At least until she gives me her answer.

I just wish I knew how.

I wish I could make this fullness in my chest go away. Protect myself a little better.

I turn back to my parents to see them looking at me. Then they look at each other.

“What?” I ask, immediately suspicious.

Mom nods at Bryce. “Why don’t we take Bryce for the night? Give you some time to…rest.”

“Or to, you know, catch up with an old friend,” Dad adds, cutting an unsubtle glance in Eva’s direction. Eva catches him doing it. I grimace; she just grins.

“Dad,” I say.

“What?” Mom replies for him. “We’ve seen the way you and Eva have been makin’ eyes at each other all day. You’ve done nothing but smile, and it’s a look we like on you. Y’all go out. Have some fun. We’ll have a sleepover with Bryce at our house.”

Dad is already taking Bryce’s backpack off my shoulder. “Take your time picking Bryce up in the morning. Just in case you and Eva, say, want to grab dinner and breakfast.”

“First of all, Eva and I are just friends. Second, I should take Bryce home.” Maybe if I say it out loud, I’ll actually start to believe it. “Probably best if she sleeps in her own bed anyway.”

“I don’t want to go to bed!” Bryce wails.

“Aw, sweetheart.” Mom runs a hand across Bryce’s back. “What if you came to Grandma and Grandpa’s house instead? Would you like that? Grandpa made ice cream.”

That stops the next wail in its tracks. Dad retired early. He’s kept busy by learning how to make all kinds of sweets. His bread pudding and ice cream are Bryce’s favorites.

“Is it peach?” Bryce says.

Dad nods. “Of course it is.”

“Okay.”

I roll my eyes. “Good Lord, Mom, y’all are shameless.”

“And you and Eva are cute,” Mom says, rolling up onto her toes to kiss my cheek before untangling my daughter from my arms. “See you tomorrow. Don’t hurry to pick this one up, you hear?”

Just like that, I’m left standing alone in the middle of the barn. I feel hot and sticky and tired.

Watching Eva approach me from across the room, I also feel horny.

Jesus fuck. I can’t catch a break.

I steel myself against the onslaught of wild hair—she’s wearing it up today, revealing the pretty lines of her neck—and skin and smile. She curls her arms around my neck and wraps me in a hug. Thighs pressed to mine.

Her nipples harden against my chest. Like she’s as turned on by me as I am by her.

Be cool be cool.

“Ford, thank you,” she says. “For everything. Today was the most wonderful day ever.”

She steps back, tucking her hands into the back pockets of her itty bitty jean shorts. Making them even itty bittier. If that’s even a word.

Be. Fucking. Cool.

Be patient.

But my body isn’t listening. My cock presses against the fly of my shorts. Heavy with want.

I want to be in her mouth. Between her legs.

I mean. Come on. This girl is all tan legs and warm smile and bare shoulders. Summertime in female form.

I tug a hand across my face.

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