Page 13 of Silver Foxed

I pick up one of the glasses of wine I just set down and take a sip. Why am I thinking about dating him? That’s insane. Certifiably insane.

I hear the sliding glass door open, and I turn to see the object of my thoughts standing there in all his half-naked glory. He’s in a pair of dark-blue swim trunks that almost look black in the porch light. They fit him like a glove, the edges tight enough that they accentuate the corded muscles of his thighs. But that’s not what catches my attention.

My mouth goes completely dry, all the moisture in my body going straight between my legs as I trail my eyes up the toned and tight muscles of his stomach. My gaze continues going up his happy trail to his taut chest with the smattering of dark and silver hair I saw peeking out of his shirt at dinner.

That is why you’re thinking of dating him, my brain says to me. I internally scold myself for being incredibly shallow. But I know his attractiveness is not the only thing drawing me to him; I feel a connection to him. How I told him about my life at dinner, how nice it was to do dishes together—it felt easy. Right.

Elijah closes the door and takes the few steps needed to get to me, his eyes dropping down my bikini-clad body so quickly I think he was hoping I’d miss it. I do a little cheer inside that he looked then add a point to the bank in my brain that says he’s attracted to me.

He smiles, gaze darting to my wine. “What did you choose this time?”

“Oh,” I say, trying to pull myself together. “It’s a merlot, single vineyard.”

He hums. “Notes?”

I take a sip and move it around my pallet. “Black plums, blueberries, dark chocolate…” I taste again. “And vanilla bean.”

His brows shoot up, and he nods his approval. “You know your wines like Oliver.”

“He taught me. We go to Napa every year together. It’s a thing of ours.”

“Oh, yes, I remember him saying something about that.”

I keep my focus locked on him, trying to get a read on if the mention of my dad made him uncomfortable like before. Thankfully, he seems fine. But I’m not going to test it further.

“Let’s get in; it’s a little chilly out here,” I say.

He holds out his hand, and I stare at it. “I don’t want you to slip as you get in.”

I press my lips together. “Such a gentleman.”

While I would be fine getting in myself, I hold my wine in my left hand and give him my right as I walk the few steps down into the heated water. His grip is strong, and I savor the brief contact before I let go to sit down. I lean back against a cluster of powerful jets and sigh in delight as Elijah joins me, sitting exactly where I had placed his wine. I do another little cheer and add one more point to the “like” side in my brain.

He takes his wine in hand and sips then swallows another one before putting it down. We’re sitting close enough that our thighs almost touch beneath the water, both facing the view of the lake. It’s too dark to see right now, but if we listen close enough, we can hear the lapping of waves against the shore over the sound of the jets.

“Nice, isn’t it?” I ask Elijah after a moment of silence.

“It is.” He leans back against the jets with a groan. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a hot tub.”

“Same. You should see the view during sunset. It’s beautiful.”

“I’m sure it is,” he says, staring at my face. The way he says it makes me think he’s not referring to the sunset. If I wasn’t already flushed from the hot water, I would blush more.

“So why did you need a break for the weekend?” I ask, not only to spark conversation but because I genuinely want to know.

“According to Oliver, I work too much.”

“Do you?” I ask.

He sinks further into stream of the jets, his broad shoulders relaxing into the water. The movement causes our thighs to make contact. My eyes widen at the feeling, but to my surprise, Elijah doesn’t try to pull away nor does he apologize. Another point.

“If you would’ve asked me that on my drive up here, I would have said no,” he muses.

“And now?”

He shifts, his muscular thigh sliding against mine. “I’m realizing that Mr. Serious has been out to play for far too long.”

My entire body feels as if it’s been covered in popping candy. My skin zips and tingles, and my thighs press together as another tiny bolt of lightning strikes me between my legs. Before I can think about what I’m doing, I shift so I’m turned toward him and rest my hand on the top of his thigh beneath the water.

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