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Neither of them wanted to back away, so they pressed together, drinking each other in, necking on the doorstep like a couple of teenagers. Bex half-expected her father to appear in the window and shout at them.
“You look so sexy in that dress,” Michael murmured, brushing a kiss over her temple. “I’ve wanted to get my hands on you all night.”
“I wish I could invite you in,” Bex admitted, her body tingly and unruly with wanting him. “But it’s best we don’t do anything to confuse Izzy. At least, not yet.”
“I know.” He sighed, his breath gusting over her forehead, and she shivered. His arms reflexively tightened around her. “I promise I’ll act the exact same way around her, no matter how much I want to get you naked.” He dropped a kiss on the side of her neck, burrowing his face into the crook of her shoulder. Bex melted into him. It felt so nice to be held like this. It had been such a long, long time since anyone held her.
And also, wasn’t he the sweetest thing ever? How many men would be so considerate toward her daughter?
“I appreciate that,” she said, giving him one last kiss and reluctantly pulling away. “Call me.”
His eyes flared with heat. “I will. Sleep well, Bex.”
Smiling, she let herself inside the foyer, then locked the door and flopped against it. She waited until she heard him drive away. Her core throbbed and her skin tingled all over. It was going to be a long and restless night.
She wrapped her arms around herself and grinned broadly into the dark, finally giving in to all the wonderful, bubbly emotions Michael was rousing in her. Sinking to the floor, she drew her knees to her chest and hugged them tight. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed herself so much.
Chapter Sixteen
A week had passedsince Michael’s phone call with Wesley, and he still hadn’t broached the subject with Bex. Later tonight would be their second date, and as he hefted weights in the gym, his gaze kept returning to where she stood at the far end of the room, paintbrush hovering over a canvas. From the streaks of blue and gray, he assumed she was working on a seascape. They seemed to be her most popular style of painting. He supposed tourists to the bay wanted something to remember it by.
Watching her, and thinking of Izzy downstairs with her grandmother, he promised himself he’d talk to Bex about Wesley tonight, even if it cost him the valuable ground he’d gained with her. Coming clean would turn out better in the long run. If she found out another way, she’d never trust him again.
He finished with the bench press, stretched out his arms, and slung his bag over his shoulder. He was about to kiss Bex goodbye—screw whoever might be watching—when his phone rang. He fished it from his pocket and went cold at the sight of the name flashing across the screen. Instead of kissing Bex, he hurried out the exit and down the stairs without acknowledging her. When he reached the ground floor, he raised the phone to his ear and answered.
“Wesley, how are you?”
“I think the more appropriate question would be ‘where are you,’” his brother said. “And the answer is, right outside your house.”
Stiffening, Michael wondered if he’d misheard. “Excuse me?”
“I’m parked outside your place. In Haven Bay. You want to let me in?”
Ice filtered through Michael’s veins, and his innards clenched painfully. Wesley was here. In town. This was not good.
Fingers fumbling with the straps, he clicked his helmet into place and adjusted the phone. “I’m not there, but I’m about to head back. I’m on my bike, so it’ll take ten minutes. How did you find out where I live?”
“So you still enjoy cycling, then?”
“Don’t change the subject, Wes.”
Wesley sighed. “I’m a member of parliament. When I ask nicely for something, people tend to give it to me. Even people in an out-of-the-way place like this.”
“You flirted with someone from the school?”
“Hey now,” he protested. “I didn’t flirt. Like I said, I asked politely.”
“Sure you did. Why are you here? You agreed to wait for three weeks.”
“I’m sorry, man. I tried to be patient, but I’ve been thinking about Isobel all week. I had to come. I tried stalking Bex online, thinking that if I could find out more about our daughter it might tide me over, but all I found was a few articles about her art. I need to know more. I want to meet Isobel.”
Hopelessness weighed Michael down as he tried to find the words to respond. The beautiful relationship he’d been building with Bex would never survive this. The moment she saw Wesley, she’d know what he had done. They were over.
His grip tightened. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t go anywhere.”
He pocketed his phone and pedaled like a madman, urging his tired legs to go harder and faster. When he reached his block, he spotted a white hybrid parked on the roadside, but it was empty. As he drew near, Wesley strode down from the front door to meet him. Michael hopped off his bike and steered it with one hand. Though it was the weekend, his brother was decked out in tidy slacks, a collared shirt, and a designer blazer. He probably considered this casual because it wasn’t a full suit.
“Hey, man.” Wesley went in for a hug, but Michael extended a hand, and as a result, he jabbed Wesley in the gut. It hadn’t been intentional, and served to accentuate the awkwardness of the greeting. They backed off from each other, and Wesley ran a hand through his hair, expression sheepish.
