Page 33 of The Hot New Single Dad Next Door

“No, it’s…” I catch my breath. “I wanted you to…”

Our lips graze. “Good,” Scott says. “Because I’ve wanted to kiss you since I tasted your muffins.”

He crushes his mouth on mine again. I gasp with sensation, my stomach leaping as I feel his strong arms tighten around me. He twists us toward the table and pushes me against it. My head spins in a dizzy rush and I cling to him as he slides a hand up my thigh and it disappears beneath the skirt of my uniform.

The oven beeps.

“What was that?” Scott asks.

I smile. “Just my, uh... oven pre-heating.”

He chuckles. “It felt warmer in here.”

We kiss again, eager to ignore it, needing more, when another sound creeps into the room... from outside.

A motorcycle.

Mark’s motorcycle.

“No,” I say, my stomach dropping. “It’s him.”

Scott takes a step back, his eyes on the windows. I push off the table, wiping my tender lips and pushing my skirt back down as I listen. A block away. Maybe less.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I say without thinking.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Scott says.

My heart skips at that. “I’ll see what he wants,” I say. “Stay with the kids?”

Scott nods.

I step outside onto the porch as Mark pulls into the driveway. His bike lurches to a shaky stop, and he nearly loses his footing entirely as he shuffles off of it.

And to think, I used to swoon at the sight of this.

“What are you doing here, Mark?” I ask.

Mark grins as he stomps across the lawn. “I heard a rumor,” he says, his eyes barely visible behind his unkempt hair, “that my girl was getting all cozy with some new guy. Thought I’d swing by and see for myself.”

My nose curls from here. “Are you drunk?”

“What if I am?” He scoffs, stopping at the porch stairs. “Is it true?”

I don’t answer.

“What?” he asks. “What are you pissed at me for this time?”

“Are you serious? Do you have any idea what could have happened to your son yesterday? Do you even care?”

“Oh, come on, Lot. He’s fine!”

“Do you know that?”

He pauses. For a split second, I think he might actually care, but I know better now. “Well, he is, isn’t he?” he asks.

“No thanks to you.” I take a step back, the stench of him too overwhelming. “Go home, Mark.”

“I wanna see my son.”

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