Page 52 of Wanting a Family Man

“Four thirty or five.” His was also level and steady and normal.

She glanced at the clock. It was 2:10 p.m.

She swallowed.

“Do you feel like seeing some waterfalls?” Trystan asked abruptly. “They’re about twenty minutes from here, mostly walking along the road so it’s easy.”

“Sounds great!”

*

This was becomingimpossible.

Trystan wasn’t even sure why he’d invited Cloe to join him at his mother’s. Mostly because the idea of her staying behind on the boat, alone, had been unthinkable. It sounded like she’d had enough people turn their backs and leave her fending for herself. She needed someone who would include her and bring her along for a couple of hours of conversation.

Spending time with his mother should have been the least erotic activity on the planet, but all that steam had put a glow on her skin and made her clothes cling damply to her curves. She hadn’t been afraid to crack silly jokes so she’d been smiling nonstop, eyes bright with laughter. She smelled like freaking peaches and cream.

Sofucking enticing.

When she had looked as though she intended to pick up that canning tub and take a bath in scalding water, his heart had stopped. Then it had stopped again as he sensed the curve of her ass mere millimeters from his twitching cock.

After all that subtle stimulation, the last thing he could take was two hours alone with her on theStorm Ridge.

He packed a few essentials and they ambled up the road. It followed the shoreline before it angled inland to the day picnic area. As they arrived, an older couple in an RV was leaving.

It wasn’t exactly an improvement to be left alone here, but it was worth the walk to see Cloe gasp at the falls from the viewing platform.

“You should see them in spring,” he said, not discounting how pretty they were with the trickling runnels of water that exposed the rock formations that looked like they’d been made by a giant melon baller scooping out sections of pillowy granite.

“Ouch! Did something bite me?” She snatched her hand from the rail. “Oh. No. It’s just a sliver.” Cloe sucked her fingertip.

“Let me see.” He took her finger and pinch rolled it. The splinter wasn’t deep. He was able to set his thumbnail against it and push it back out again. He wiped it away.

Then he kissed her fingertip before he’d even thought about what he was doing.

They both froze.

“I—”Do that with Storm, he should have explained, but he was not thinking of Cloe the way he thought of Storm.

He made himself let go of her hand and step away, staring blindly at the falls.

“I’m trying really hard to keep my hands off you,” he said, hearing the strain in his own voice. “Maybe tell me to fuck off. That might help.”

“That’s kind of the opposite of what I want to say,” she said in a hollow voice, arms crossed to hug herself.

“Fuck on?” It was the lamest joke ever.

“Pretty much.”

They both released jagged, helpless chuckles.

“If I tell you I’m not on any kind of birth control, doesthathelp?” she said.

“Not when I put condoms in the bag like an opportunistic asshole.”

“Oh my God.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, laughing as she spoke. “I love that you prepare for every disaster that could possibly occur.”

“Itwouldbe a disaster.” He caught the flex of hurt on her profile. “I didn’t mean it wouldn’t be good. That’s the problem.” Where the hell were a bunch of nosy tourists when you needed them? He looked around, but it was as though they were the last pair of humans left on earth.

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