Page 69 of Summer with the Single Dad

“Clint and Brooke are big mystery buffs. They love Sherlock Holmes and are binge-watching Elementary again. He’s got Lucy Liu on the brain,” Bennett said in an accusatory tone.

“I do not,” Clint argued.

Justine sucked in a deep breath. “Well, I’m not sure I agree with you, but I’m going to take it as a compliment because Lucy Liu is gorgeous. So thank you.”

Bennett glared at his brother for a moment, but Clint seemed unaffected by his brother’s mild ire. “Anyway, those cupcakes aren’t going to bake themselves,” Bennett said, his hand falling to the small of Justine’s back like it was the most natural thing in the world. Clint’s eyes followed his brother’s arm and a happy little tingle blossomed in Justine’s core, spreading outward from where Bennett’s firm hand rested just above her sacrum.

“I like red velvet,” Clint said with a chuckle.

“That’s nothing but food coloring and chocolate.” Bennett made a face of disgust as he turned Justine and himself around to head up the hill.

“Delicious, delicious food coloring,” Clint called back.

“So what kind of cakes are we going to bake?” Justine asked, needing to fill the air with words—any words—otherwise her brain was going to short circuit from how good it felt to have his hand on her back like that.

“Funfetti, obviously. Griffin would be disappointed if we didn’t make that.”

“Can’t let Griffin down.” They walked through the man door of the security gate single file, then instead of resting his hand at her back, he reached for her hand and laced their fingers together. An even bigger thrill filled her to the brim and the smile she fought to contain hurt her cheeks.

He glanced down at their hands, then back up to her, grinning. Then he swung their hands a little. “Is this okay?”

She could no longer contain her smile and nodded. “Yeah.”

They reached his front door, and she stepped aside so he could unlock it, but he snorted and just opened it. “We don’t lock our doors here. I’m not sure anybody on the island does.”

“And yet, you have a security gate?”

“That’s recent. You’ll have to ask Brooke about that one.” He closed the door with both of them inside and she found herself plastered up against the solid wood, with his solid wood pressing into her thigh as his mouth claimed hers.

She moaned into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss. “We need to get baking.”

“We do.” He didn’t stop kissing her.

“Seriously. We have a lot to do this morning.”

“We do.” Unlike the dads, she and the kids wore rain jackets, and she was dripping water everywhere. His hair was damp and droplets fell on her cheeks. His hoodie was wet too. But none of that deterred him from kissing her and fishing his hand up under her tank top.

She squeaked when his cold fingers brushed her abdomen.

“Shit, sorry.” But he wasn’t really sorry and laughed as he worked those icy digits higher until he cupped her over bra.

She laughed too, their lips still coasting across each other, tongues playfully tangling. “We need to get baking.”

“Okay then, get baking. I’m not stopping you.”

She groaned when he pulled down the cup of her bra and gently but forcefully pulled on her nipple. “Let’s get things in the oven, then we can take a break.”

“Or we take a break now, bake while I recover, then have round two when things are baking.”

Her eyes flared open to meet his blue gaze, full of lust and promise. “Round two?”

“I guess round three, seeing as round one, was this morning, and right now will be round two.” He peeled her out of her jacket, removed her cardigan, and lifted the tank top over her head until she was in jeans and a bra. Then he hoisted her up into his arms. “Your room or mine?”

That made her giggle as she looped her arms around his neck. “Mine.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The first two times they were together were in unconventional and unexpected places. He wanted the third time (and fourth, fifth, sixth, etcetera) to be in a bed. Or bed adjacent—like the shower. Okay, well maybe not all the times they were together, but a few needed to be in a bed. He had a great bed after all. King-sized with a pillow-top mattress, high thread-count Egyptian cotton and cooling pillows that cradled your head and neck like a newborn baby.

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