Page 39 of Drunk on You

“You know you can be a dad without marrying her,” I tell him. “Nobody would fault you for walking away from her, and you’d still be a damn good dad.”

“I know,” he murmurs, “but then what? I’d be an every-other-weekend?—”

Before he can finish his sentence, there’s a quick knock on the door, followed by the she-devil—Nora, not Anastasia. I know—it’s hard to keep track of all the evil women trying to pull us down into hell.

“Generally, when someone knocks, they wait for the other person to grant them access,” I say, taking my shitty mood out on her.

Of course, she glares with enough crazy that I wonder if she’s casting a spell on me—hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was a witch. Maybe she and Red both run in the same witch circle.

“Josie said it was only you in Ryder’s office with him. We’re having lunch together.”

“And that’s my cue to leave.”

I glance at Ryder, hitting him with a look that conveys, Good fucking luck with her, and then head out of his office, determined to figure out a way to get back at Red.

She wants to make this shit personal? I can do that too. Everyone has skeletons in their closet, and I’m about to find hers. When I’m done with her, she’s going to wish she hadn’t messed with me. I’ve worked too hard to get to where I am to let her fuck it all up.

But first, I’m going home to shower, and while I do so, I’ll be imagining how damn sexy she looked against the wall with my hand wrapped around her neck while she practically begged me to get her off.

Fuck, I’m so fucked.

“We’ll discuss it tomorrow at the meeting. Bring the numbers and?—”

My words come to a quick halt as I stare out back at the pool, which is currently occupied by none other than Anastasia. I didn’t see her when I got home, and I assumed she was working upstairs since her car was in the garage.

But I was wrong. Way fucking wrong … unless working involves her swimming laps in the pool, topless.

“Julian, you there?” Ryder asks.

“I gotta go.”

Without waiting for him to respond, I hang up and pocket my phone, then walk outside. She must hear the French doors close behind me because she glances back and then stops when she reaches the wall.

She turns around to face me, her arms spreading out behind her along the edge. As she lightly kicks her feet out, her body bobs up and down in the water, making her perky tits play peekaboo.

Such a goddamn tease.

“Wasn’t expecting you home so early,” she says with a smirk.

“Working from home this afternoon.”

“Same,” she says.

My eyes descend her body, expecting to see bikini bottoms, only there aren’t any because she’s completely fucking naked.

“Skinny-dipping in the pool, huh?” I say, remembering our conversation when she first moved in. “If you want my attention, you only have to ask.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I just don’t want any tan lines.”

She scowls, clearly not liking the way I threw her past in her face—which gives me an idea.

She drops her arms and dips her face into the water, then pushes off the edge and swims like a fish across to the other side. With the water crystal clear, I can just make out her naked body.

Great. Now, I can add this visual to my spank bank for when I’m getting myself off later.

This woman is seriously going to be the death of me … unless I do something to take her down first.

chapter sixteen

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