Her gaze danced from my left shoulder to my right and brushed over the dark hair on my chest. I rocked a faint farmer’s tan on my biceps and at the base of my neck. Some of the recent spring days had been warm while I cleaned up the flower beds and gardens, and the sun had left its print.
The interest in her eyes was like a time machine, transporting me back to when we’d hole up in that cabin of hers and do very adult things to each other. Warmth coiled through my gut and further south until it threatened to give me an erection that wouldn’t go away.
“June,” I barked. “You’re in the way.”
Embarrassment flooded her expression, and she hopped to the side. “Sorry. It’s just— It’s not— It’s been a while since I’ve seen you shirtless.”
Fifteen goddamn years. “Yep.” I brushed past her and stalked to my room. Inside, I could take my first full breath in several minutes. My blood was boiling for a reason other than anger.
Long fucking legs. So damn curvy. I wasn’t the only one who’d filled out.
I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Fuck.”
I dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt. When I left my bedroom, I was shrugging into a red flannel shirt when the bathroom door opened and June breezed out.
She ran into my chest. Thankfully, my arms were trapped half in the sleeves or I might’ve done something idiotic like wrap them around her.
“Jesus, June Bug. It’s a small house, not one of your presidential suites.”
Her face went from stunned to mutinous. “You’re right. My chalet in the Alps has a kitchen the size of this entire house.” Sarcasm dripped from every word.
“You have a chalet?” Bethany’s excited voice broke between us.
June spun, the soft strands of her hair tickling my skin. “No, I was kidding. I have a place in Nashville.”
I lost the battle with my eye muscles. My gaze dropped to her ass. Fuck.
Two round globes were right in front of me. If I stepped forward, we’d be flush. We’d always fit together so damn perfectly.
“I travel a lot, so I don’t see the need for a big house,” June continued when I needed her to put a lot of distance between us real quick. “But I have stayed in some presidential suites.”
“Cool.” Bethany grinned. “Daddy, can I have a muffin?”
“Yeah. I’ll be right there.” I took one more look at a billboard-worthy ass. “When someone gets out of my way.”
Bethany giggled like I was kidding around. June shot a scowl over her shoulder. She stepped aside with a saccharine smile. “Excuse me, Mr. Kinkade.”
I grunted and passed her, adjusting my shirt, and when I turned the corner and no one could see, I palmed my unruly dick back in place.
In the kitchen, Bethany was staring at the muffins and worrying her lower lip between her teeth. “Daddy, I feel like we should have something better for June Bee for breakfast.”
“Why?”
“She’s famous.”
Fuck me. I pressed a palm against my forehead. “She puts her pants on one leg at a time like the rest of us.” That wasn’t the imagery I needed right now.
“Can you make her pancakes and eggs?”
“I’ll make you and Hannah pancakes and eggs, and she’s welcome to have some.”
Bethany’s relieved grin was my answer. “Thank you, Daddy.”
I started digging ingredients out. Bethany got the griddle for me.
Hannah entered the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. Her little feet stuck out from her pajama pants. Clarity wiped out the sleep in her expression. “She’s here!”
She darted upstairs, presumably to change.
