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“All night.”
“Are you flirting with me, Teague Simon?”
His eyes were heated and her heart jacked up so fast she felt dizzy for a second.
“Honey, I think we’re way past flirting.”
She smiled at him, but it soon faded when reality hit. She was a young mother of two and he was…well, she didn’t exactly know what he was but she was pretty sure of one thing. Teague Simon was temporary. He was up here looking for something, but that something sure as hell wasn’t Sabrina and her kids.
“What are we doing?” she asked, suddenly serious.
Teague’s grin slowly faded and was replaced with an intensity that made her nervous. And excited. And damn scared.
“I’m not sure,” he replied. “I don’t know that whatever this is will be good for either one of us, but I’m willing to go with it if you are. Just say the word.”
A warm breeze lifted Sabrina’s hair into the air and she shivered, suddenly cold even though it was already hot. She reached for her coffee mug and held it out to him.
“I’ll have another coffee.”
What the hell was she doing? She should be running the other way. She should be thanking him for the kisses and cuddles and calling it a day.
There was that slow grin again. “Sounds good.”
When Teague took their cups and disappeared inside his cottage, she sagged against the railing, grateful for the support because she’d have been on the floor without it. Her legs were like spaghetti and she gripped the ledge, eyes once more on the water.
“Jesus, Sabrina,” she whispered. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
She hadn’t just crossed that line—she’d jumped over it. And only time would tell how hard the landing would be when she fell.
Chapter Fifteen
Teague had never flirted with a woman before. Never. It wasn’t in his genetic makeup and it sure as hell wasn’t something he’d ever needed to perfect.
He’d always been the dark and moody guy, the one most women thought they could fix. Even as a kid, nothing about Teague had ever been light or charming. His twin Tucker had been the winner in that department.
Teague had always been an intense adrenaline junkie who fed his sexual needs with one-night stands or no-string attachments where commitment wasn’t ever considered and the ‘R’ word was never uttered.
When the hell had he become the guy who would spend the day staining a dock while keeping up with the rapid-fire questions being thrown his way by a couple of kids who talked more than they should. A couple of kids who weren’t shy about saying whatever the hell was on their mind.
Harry: What ’s on your underwear? I ’m wearing Superman today.
Morgan: Do you shave your back? My friend Lily ’s daddy does.
Morgan: Harry picks his nose and wipes it on the wall beside his bed.
Harry: (in reply to his sister ’s piece of information) No I don ’t. I wipe it on the floor.
So yeah, Teague had never been that guy and yet here he was, being that guy, and he was surprised to find out that it wasn’t all that bad.
In answer to Morgan’s question…no, he didn’t shave his back, while Harry offered up a pair of his precious superhero boxers when he found out all of Teague’s boxers were plain old white or black.
“You don’t even have Spiderman?” Harry asked, hands on his hips in disbelief.
“Nope,” Teague replied, putting his brush away. It was late afternoon and the dock was done. By morning the stain would set and they’d be able to use it.
“Are you really taking us for a boat ride tomorrow, Tigger?” Morgan asked, shoving her brother out of the way and not batting an eye when Harry pushed her back.
He’d offered when the first thing out of Harry’s mouth on his return from Caleb’s was to ask if he could go out on the boat.
