Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 135300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
“Fuck, duchess. The things I want to do to you could put me in prison.”
I bite my lip like the thirsty little deviant I am.
His dirty talk must be devastating.
I raise a leg and he catches my knee, pulling my legs open, and shit.
Holy flaming shit, I’m losing my mind.
“Dad?” Daniel’s voice shakes my vision.
Kane freezes against me.
His hand squeezes my thigh almost painfully. I can practically taste his reluctance.
“Daaaad!”
Yep, we’re dead.
I’m grateful he doesn’t rip himself away too fast or I’d hit the floor again. There’s a tent pitched in his jeans as he shifts his belt.
Scrambling, I finger comb my hair and tug my shirt down, pressing everything back into place and trying not to look at him.
Oh, man.
These kids.
Two very big little reasons why secret attic kissing should not be happening.
And one of those reasons starts coming up the ladder, stepping on the bottom stair and straining to look up.
I wipe a shaky hand over my mouth, grateful I didn’t bother with lipstick today, trying to pull myself together.
Dan will be a distraction, at least, and I need one ASAP.
If Kane keeps looking at me like that, all dark and dangerous, I’m going to lose my calm.
We can’t, we can’t, we can’t.
The boy pokes his head up through the small door a few seconds later, bewildered. He gets a lungful of the dusty attic and grimaces.
“Oh, yikes! It smells like Grandma’s garage in here,” he says, coughing. “And we’re getting hungry. Is it almost dinnertime?”
I’m already moving, brushing past Kane, who remains stock-still.
I don’t dare look at him, even as my body drifts past his.
If I could just rewind time and—
No, don’t think about it.
“Great timing, Dan. We were looking for you,” I say brightly. “Any chance you want to help me get this picture downstairs?” I retrieve the painting and hold it up.
Dan eyes it suspiciously. “You wanna keep that?”
“My grandmother painted it.”
“Oh, cool. Yeah, no problem.” Clearly no art connoisseur, he just holds out one hand. “Ready when you are.”
“Go slow, Bud,” Kane urges, hovering over us and ready to step in if it doesn’t look like we can handle it.
“Be careful. Let’s see…” I pause, counting the steps on the ladder. “Why don’t you stand at the bottom and we’ll just pass it down?”
Safety first.
If I’m the reason Kane’s kids get hurt, won’t that be the cherry on this awkward hot-shit sundae?
“Sure,” Dan huffs. “Then will you guys come down for dinner?”
“Have some patience, little man,” Kane grumbles behind me.
“It’s fine, we’re on our way.” I don’t look at Kane directly, but I’m sure his stance has relaxed a little. “We’re done up here anyway.”
My voice cracks a little on the last word as I scoot up, slowly dangling the painting down through the opening.
Dan reaches up and grabs it, then sets it on the floor.
“Coming?” I whisper over my shoulder.
I won’t let my eyes focus.
Seriously, if I see him right now, I just know I’ll see the disgust in his eyes.
“Right behind you. Take your time and watch your step down.” His voice is so neutral, so flat it hurts.
Watch your step.
A little late for that, dude.
How do we coexist after trading wildfire kisses?
As soon as the painting gets tucked away safely in my room and I’ve cleaned up, I head outside.
Zero need to stick around for dinner.
If Dan caught one whiff of what was happening, then everyone knows I made out with Kane Saint by now.
Technically, my tenant.
Definitely my latest disaster.
My heart drums a messy rhythm, still lodged in my throat.
If Sully Bay has a town idiot, I’ve just stolen their place.
Nothing much to show for Gramps’ huge riddle, and now I’ve gone and kissed a near-stranger.
Practically in front of his kids.
Yeah, there’s no way I can face him again and ever look normal.
It’s not that it’s the first time I’ve kissed a stranger.
When you don’t date much and you had the wild college phase a lot of girls do, accidental kisses happen.
But before, it was always in an upscale wine bar or after a short hike in the park. Or maybe after watching an Arizona sunset too perfect for life while some cute dumb Scottsdale boy invites me on his dad’s private jet.
That’s happened often enough over the years.
Men like me, and I like men.
I just don’t really date them.
I’ve stayed away from lethal older single dads for good reason.
Messing around with a guy casually, that’s one thing. But when kids are involved—oof.
And I’ve been happily keeping my distance from men ever since Kelso Tully cheated on me just when we were getting serious.
Fending off fuckboys, that’s normal and boring. Old habit.
Then along came Kane Saint with his panther-like bedroom eyes and hockey body and big heart behind barbed wire.
Down went my shields.
Now, I’m cut to ribbons.
Stupid. So, so stupid.
This actually feels worse than college. I’m grown now, not innocent and naïve and forgivable because I haven’t learned how to keep my hands to myself with guys who bring nothing good.