Page 134 of Scouting the Single Dad

And I can’t be dishonest with him—not in this way.

Not like this.

“I—I need a second,” I whisper. “Grady, I don’t think I’m quite ready for this.”

The lust drains from his face instantly, replaced by concern, his large hands sliding from my hips to my thighs so he can look at my face and stare into my eyes.

“Hey. Babe, it’s okay.” He sits up, bracing one arm around me so I don’t fall. “Did I push too fast? Are you all right?”

I shake my head, frustrated at myself, at the timing, at everything. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I promise, it isn’t you. It’s just . . . I’m sorry. My head is not in the right place for this.”

I see Hayes in the hot Arizona sun, and another stab of guilt slides under my ribs.

I shouldn’t be thinking about him here, now, in this moment with someone new.

It’s too much.

He gently lifts me off his lap so I’m sitting beside him instead of on top of him, his hands brushing my waist like he’s making sure I’m steady.

“No hard feelings,” he adds, cracking a small smile. “I mean—some hard feelings.” He gestures vaguely downward toward his dick. “But this is a me problem.”

My chest tightens. God, he really is a good man.

I place a soft kiss on his cheek before standing to gather my bra and top with shaky hands, cheeks hot, thighs buzzing not from pleasure now but from the adrenaline of stopping. Grady watches me, somewhat deflated but not unkind.

“Bathroom?” I murmur, holding my clothes against my chest.

“Down the hall, second door.” He pulls me forward one last time to press a kiss against my stomach, gentle after all that fuckery. “Take your time.”

Once inside, I brace my palms on the counter and meet my reflection.

Cheeks flushed, hair wild. My breasts have beard burn. The hint of a hickey flirts with my collarbone. My mouth is swollen, lips puffy.

“Girl, what are you doing?” I hiss at the reflection in the mirror, horrified. “Seriously. What the hell are you doing?”

You are fully grown. Have sex with the man! No one is here to stop you! Not Faith, not Hayes, not the dating police! There is nothing standing in your way!

I imagine fucking Grady would be incredible.

So why not? Why Can’t I Let Myself Sleep With Him?

“Let’s be honest,” I tell the girl in the mirror. “You like the attention he’s giving you. A whole lot.” I find a brush and untangle my hair. “You also like that he stopped when you asked him to. You like the way he looks at you.” And that thing he does with his mouth.

I take one more look at myself.

“Choose you,” I whisper to myself. Take a breath before opening the door and stepping back into the hall.

Grady is where I left him, smoothing a palm over his hair when he sees me, a concerned smile on his handsome face.

“You good?” he asks, searching my face.

“I am.” I tuck myself back into his space, getting comfy on the couch next to him. “I was giving myself a pep talk in the bathroom—is that weird?”

“What kind of pep talk?” His mouth curves.

I trace the line of his jaw with one finger to show him I am not turned off by him. “Part of me was saying, ‘You’re fully grown, have sex with the man.’” His eyes darken. “Another part of me is saying, ‘This is a perfect night, don’t rush it.’”

He exhales, relief and want tangling together. “I like both parts.” He gathers the throw blanket and puts it over my legs, a small, gallant thing that makes my throat tight. “And by the way, I haven’t made out this hot and heavy in a long fucking time. Maybe since college.”