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She bent her leg, wiggling one of the high heels in the air. “Aren’t they cute?”
“That wasn’t the first word that came to mind, no.”
Those legs were a lot longer and a lot tanner than he had any fucking business noting.
It had started almost immediately during her freshman year in university. He’d delicately mentioned it to Mitchell more than once, lamenting the brazen flirtiness of the girl—who happened to be his best friend’s daughter.
Mitchell had always laughed it off though. “She’s in college, dude. They always flirt with older men. I think it’s in their DNA. Something about needing male attention. It’s just a phase though. Harmless. She’ll grow out of it.”
The problem was Mitchell had been wrong. She hadn’t grown out of it—at all.
And in the intervening couple of years, it had gotten worse.
“It’s fine!” Kelsey said, canting her hip. “I’m not wearing anything I wouldn’t wear on a normal scorching ass day.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Max said, scrubbing his face with his palm.
“You sound just like my dad.”
“Somebody has to, apparently.”
Just like somebody had to fix her truck for her too, since her dad had managed to get himself a promotion halfway around the world.
He was irritated at having to even note it with the girl, but with Mitchell all the way over in London, Max didn’t have a choice but to tell Kelsey to dial back the slutty just a little bit.
It was probably a doomed mission, the incorrigible twenty-year-old not being known for listening to, well, really anything the men in her life told her.
“You never answered my question.”
“What question?” she asked with a tilt of her head.
“Why are you here?”
She studied him for a moment, her painted nails drumming against her pocket. “I… have something I want to ask you.”
“Uh oh.”
She giggled. “It’s not bad! I mean… I don’t think it is.”
“Would your father like it?”
“Nope.”
“Then it’s bad.”
“God, men!” she said, pressing her hands to her head.
The tank top rode up, exposing the flat, firm, tanned belly. And the silver ring through her navel.
Fuck, Max!
He strode into the garage, looking for something—anything—to distract him. Getting her to go find something else to do was of paramount importance at that moment.
“Wait!” The clacking of her heels followed him. “Just hear me out, okay? You’ll see—it’s no big deal at all.”
“That’s what everyone always says,” he muttered, sorting through the tools in the top drawer of his bench, completely forgetting what he was looking for. “Just before delivering a really big fucking deal.”
“Are you even listening to me, Uncle—Max?”
