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Casita Casanova

Page 87

by Jessalyn Jameson

“Sorry, I… I’ll just wait in the house!” Ari disappears into the copse of trees that line the property and I hang my head, the icy coolness of shame replacing the lust coursing through my veins.

“So… that was your daughter?”

I open my eyes and nod. My stomach twists into knots.

Who evenamI? What am Idoing?

“What was that?” The words slip out before I realize I’ve said them. I swallow hard, pressing my hand to my chest. The skin is hot, heated like the rest of me.

Cas smirks. Even in the dark I can see one eyebrow creep up his forehead. “That was some good, old fashioned dry humping, Maryn.”

Shaking my head, I point at him. I know damn well what dry humping looks like.

But Idon’tknow how to voice my question.

“Don’t do that, Maryn.”

I shake my head again.

“Don’t be ashamed of this.”

It’s too much. Too soon. I don’t even know him. What kind of example am I setting for my daughter?

“Maryn.” Cas stands and I take another step back.

He raises his hands in surrender. “Please don’t do this.” He sighs, dropping his hands to his sides.

This is crazy. This is two lust-filled teenagers going at it on the beach, not a grown ass woman and her tenant. Because that would be out of line and out of the question.

I pull my hair back out of my eyes. It’s sticking to the sweat beading up across my forehead, so I scan the blanket for my hair clip. Cas grabs it and reaches to hand it to me. I’m careful not to let our fingers brush when I retrieve my hairclip from him, for fear of what touching him might make me do. Clearly, I can’t be trusted.

“Maryn.”

“No, Cas. There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You’re wrong about that.”

“Well, I say there isn’t, and I win.” I grab the bottle of wine and the glass I was using in one hand, then swipe the two metal sticks from the sand and start taking the stairs two at a time. “Can you get the rest of that, please?” I call over my shoulder.

“I’m not finished with you.”

His words send a shiver down my spine.

Or maybe that’s the cold night air.

Doesn’t matter. I have to go face my daughter now, with a scarlet letter plastered to my chest.

Oh my god.

She caught medry humpingon the beach.

I’d laugh if this wasn’tmypathetic life.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Ridge

She’s pulled away from me again, but I’m prepared this time. I know her well after just five days. Well enough to know that she’ll take a little space, then come back to me.