Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 107(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
“You’re still bleeding a little,” he said quietly. “Looks like one of these old boards got you pretty good.”
“I’m okay,” I said softly. My voice sounded softer than I intended.
The second his eyes met mine, I forgot how to breathe. Our eyes locked while his hand stayed wrapped around my bare leg, my foot resting against his thigh. The sounds of the cookout faded into the background until all I could hear was my own heartbeat and the uneven rhythm of his breathing.
This was so wrong. Bastian was my step-uncle. Eighteen years older than me. The same man who used to wrap me in his jacket during thunderstorms when I was little. But right then, sitting with his rough hand against my skin and heat burning in his eyes, I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.
Bastian’s gaze dropped to my mouth for the briefest second before his entire body tensed. He let go of my ankle so fast it was like touching me burned him.
He stood abruptly and took a step back. “You should get inside and clean that properly,” he said, his words rushed out. “And watch where you’re walking next time.” He turned and walked away, his shoulders tight like he couldn’t put enough distance between us fast enough.
I remained on the dock staring after him while my foot throbbed and my pulse raced so hard it hurt.
This summer was already wrecking me.
And the worst part was, I didn’t mind at all.
4
BASTIAN
I’d been doing everything possible to avoid her for the past few days.
Every morning, I left the guest house before anyone was up and worked at the marina until it got dark, burying myself in engine repairs and whatever odd jobs needed doing.
I told myself it was the smart thing to do. The right thing. Being around Juliet for too long made my thoughts dangerous and my body even more so.
I couldn’t risk it. She was my step-niece, for Christ’s sake. Over a decade and a half younger than me. I had no business looking at her the way I sometimes caught myself doing.
But all that careful distance shattered on a sweltering Thursday afternoon.
I was bent over an old outboard motor, grease up to my elbows and sweat pouring down my back, when I heard the crunch of tires on gravel. I glanced over my shoulder, and my body reacted with that tight, unwelcome pull in my chest.
Juliet stepped out of her car looking like every bad decision I’d ever wanted to make. She looked soft and sun-kissed and far too tempting. Her dark hair was twisted up messily with loose pieces sticking to her neck and shoulder.
She had on tiny cutoff denim shorts that showed off way too much leg and a thin, white T-shirt that made it clear she wasn’t wearing a bra, her nipples large and round and straining against the cotton. Reluctantly, I raised my eyes up to her beautiful brown ones.
“Mom mentioned you might be able to take a look at my car,” she said, walking over with a small smile. “It’s been making this weird rattling sound for a few days. I figured since you’re good with engines…”
I wiped my hands on a dirty rag and nodded, keeping my voice as even as I could. “Yeah, pull it off to the side of the parking lot and pop the hood. I’ll check it out.”
The afternoon sun was brutal, beating down on us and making the air feel thick and sticky. I could smell her sunscreen. It was something sweet, like vanilla, mixed with that warm feminine scent that was driving me insane.
I went over to her car and tried to focus on the engine, but it was impossible with her standing right next to me. Every time I moved, my shoulder nearly brushed hers. Sweat trickled down my spine as I worked, grease smearing across my forearms and shirt.
“So, where have you really been all these years?” she asked after a few quiet minutes, her voice soft but curious. “You always disappear for so long. I never know if you’re okay or not.”
I kept my answers short. “Work. Different countries. Nothing special.”
She laughed lightly. “You’re always so vague. Come on, Uncle Bastian. You used to let me sit with you for hours and tell me stories about your travels. You didn’t completely shut me out back then.”
I stayed silent, but she kept pushing in that gentle way of hers, asking if I ever got scared out there, if I missed the lake, and if I ever thought about coming home sooner.
When I finally glanced over, she was leaning forward, watching me with those big doe eyes. A bead of sweat slid slowly down her collarbone and disappeared into the neckline of her top. My mouth went dry.