Page 22 of Never Let You Go

He grabs his shirt and steps out of the bathroom. I treat myself to the sight of his large shoulders, his muscular back, his narrow hips.

I’ve never throbbed for a man until now.

His back still to me, he plants his fists on his hips. “I’ll have your shower fixed today, but you can use my bathroom this morning,” he says. “Be ready to leave with Grace in about half an hour. She’ll give you the lay of the land.” He’s talking as if we aren’t both half naked. As if this is a totally natural situation.

He pauses. Looks at the room. Grunts at the sight of my unmade bed. “Need to get a different bed,” he mumbles. Then, his gaze drops to my suitcase, open on the floor. Clothes are spilling out from it, as well as my journal, and the weathered manila envelope I carry around wherever I go.

And Sarah’s gift, propped atop its wrapping paper. I opened it just minutes ago and had a good laugh. And grateful appreciation.

Now? My cheeks are burning. I rush to the suitcase to snatch it, but too late.

Christopher stoops over and grabs it. Pointing to the wrapping paper and with his back still turned to me, he says, “Goodbye gift?”

I clear my throat. “Uh, yeah. That a problem?”

He spins around and pins me in place with his intent gaze. “Not at all. From your boyfriend?” His gaze searches me.

We’re so close, his heat radiates into my core, and his scent inebriates me. “From my best friend. I don’t have a boyfriend,” I breathe. Suddenly that detail seems very important to point out, and I chastise myself for it. For all the not-so-hidden meaning behind that tidbit of information. As if to back up my poor judgment, my gaze goes from the vein beating in his neck, to the stubble on his chin, to his lips so temptingly close, and finally lands on his dark eyes.

“Why not,” he grumbles.

“S-Sorry?”

His pecs expand with each of his breaths. “Why doesn’t a girl like you have a boyfriend.”

Why do the words a girl like you make me throb? “I don’t do boyfriends,” I say.

He cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “Okay,” he says, tossing the vibrator on the bed as he leaves my bedroom.

six

Christopher

She had hungry eyes, and I wanted to give her what she was begging for. Thank god Skye followed me. When I saw Alexandra, with her soaked tank top clinging to her perky nipples, her gaze caressing me, I would have lost it if my daughter hadn’t been right there.

And the way Alexandra watched me try to get out of my shirt?

Fuck.

When I finally got unstuck from my soaked T-shirt, I caught her gaze stroking me from top to bottom until it settled right below my belt and her mouth opened a bit.

I can’t let that happen.

There’s too much at stake for me.

I grab a clean T-shirt from my bedroom on the way down to catch Skye at breakfast before she leaves with Grace. It’s tough for me to stay away from the bakery that early in the day, and I’m thankful for my cousin’s help. But I always pick Skye up from school in the afternoons.

“I need a favor,” I tell Grace as I pour two cups of coffee and hand her one.

“Sure.” She sits across from Skye, while I gulp my coffee standing.

“I have a new apprentice—”

“Alexandra?” She smiles. “Skye told me all about her, didn’t you, sweetie?”

Skye nods. “She’s really nice, and she’s staying less than six months, and six months is short in grown-up time. Right, Daddy?” She turns around on her chair and looks up at me, expecting a confirmation.

Six months with Alexandra in the house is going to be very long.

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