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The bridge of my nose stings. Nat has been an absolute godsend. A pillar of support. My voice cracks as I tell her, “Thanks. I love you.”

As soon as she spots my tears, she shoves me out the door. “Nope! We’re not doing this right now! You need to work. Vamoose!”

Sniffling, I step out of the car and chuckle. “Yeah, yeah. I’m gone.”

I walk up the long driveway, my duffle bag by my side. When I reach the front door, I ring the bell and wait. A minute passes before the door opens. I smile and look down at my new client. “Hey, Ceecee. How’re you doing, sweetie?”

Today is no different from the other days I’ve seen her. She all but rolls her eyes and mumbles, “Fine.”

An awkward silence follows. My smile falls. I clear my throat and force a smile so hard my cheeks hurt. “Is your dad home?” She nods and rolls her chair back out of the doorway in silent invitation. I step inside and ask, “So how are you liking this place? It looks amazing.”

Her eyes reach mine. Her answer is quick, but harsh. “I hate it.”

“Why is that?” I ask gently.

Her gaze flickers to the floor before she murmurs, “It’s empty. And cold.”

Doth my ears mishear, or is that the bitter sound of loneliness?

My chest aches for her. I wish I could bend down and hug her without having my head bitten off. Before I can think better of it, I step forward, lean down, and wrap my arms around her. She doesn’t hug me back, but she doesn’t stiffen either. I hold her a long while before she asks quietly, “Why are you hugging me?”

She asks this question in a soft way, a sweet way, so I know this is not a warning to never do it again. As I separate from her, I answer her just as quietly, “Because hugs are free and you looked like you needed one.”

The squeak of a door opening snags my attention. Max steps out of what I can see is the bathroom. How do I know this? I know this, because as he opens the door, steam follows him out. That, and he is dressed in a towel.

Only a towel.

Holy Mary, mother of God. He is magnificent.

I’ve seen men and I’ve seen their bodies. I’ve been to the beach a thousand times before. So I can say with absolute confidence, using my mental guide of comparison, this body is ridiculous. Ridiculously hot.

My body’s reaction is just as ridiculous. My tongue swells. I begin salivating. My nipples bead and warmth hits my belly, hard. All I can do is watch in awe as he walks into the hallway. Water beads all over his olive skin and I silently wish to lick it off. With abs of steel and not an ounce of fat on him, my eyes follow his strong body as it moves gracefully down the hall.

With a towel around his waist and one in his hands, he wipes at his face before calling out, “Baby girl, someone here?”

I watch Ceecee smirk. “Yep.”

Oh man. This is not good. This is not a playful smirk. This smirk is spiteful and nasty. What on earth is going on here? Why is this normally sweet girl hating on her dad? I don’t understand, but I vow to find out.

When Max looks up and sees me, his slow smile has my stomach flipping around like fish out of water. “Cupcake. What are you doing here? I thought we had an appointment tomorrow sometime?”

My heart smiles at the fact he’s not mad about me showing up uninvited. “I-uh…I just wanted to—uh…” My mind is finding it hard to concentrate when we’re trying to picture what’s underneath that towel. “Do you want to get changed, and then we’ll talk?”

Ceecee starts to move away, when Max calls out, “Don’t go far, baby.”

She doesn’t answer, just moves faster, and his smile fades. I would hug him if he were dressed…and if it weren’t completely inappropriate right now. Instead, he looks back at me and points to his towel. “Changing.”

I nod dumbly, staring down at the towel. Unable to look away, the towel comes closer and closer ‘til my head snaps up. I find Max in my face, grinning like the fool he is. He lifts a hand and runs it through his wet hair, and then leans into me and whispers, “I guess we’re even.”

My mind—now comatose from copious amounts of sexy—flat-lines. “Huh?”

He looks down at my cleavage and tugs at the bottom of my tank. “I’ve seen you. Now you’ve seen me.” He smirks. “Even.”

My brain-to-mouth filter sparks and I blurt out, “Technically, you’d have to lose the towel and put on undies. And a bra.”

His laughter is loud and so happy-sounding that my moment of regret is replaced by tummy flutters and a small smile. He walks away, leaving me in the hall. Just before he enters his room, he looks back at me, smiling, and drops the towel a second before he walks through the door, giving me a heart attack, as well as a nice view of his taut butt.

The door closes and I can only think of one thing.

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