Page 5 of My Best Friend's Dad

The sun was beginning to set behind the trees, igniting the sky with brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows. I leaned down, put my elbows on the granite, and shook my head.

If Bella wasn’t careful, she was going to get herself in trouble, like really big trouble, and that didn’t even begin to encompass the shit Damon would be in if the two of them ever got caught.

A man cleared his throat behind me.

My eyes darted to the doorway where Vincenzo was standing with a definitive frown on his face, his hands resting against the doorframe, and his fingers tapping against the white painted wood.

He had a shirt on now.

Such a shame…

I was positively hopeless.

His gaze made me feel like nothing more than a naughty little girl about to get scolded by her daddy and I didn’t know why, so I stood there and tried to lift my chin as proudly as I could.

“Hi,” I said breathlessly, my heart pounding in my ears. I squeezed my hands to my sides, my palms suddenly feeling a little clammy.

Why did he have this effect on me? And why couldn’t I control it?

“Did you have a good day with Bella?” he asked, his voice a bit tense.

“Yes,” I replied, and he smiled slightly, his eyes roving over me for the briefest of seconds before coming to rest on my face. It was so quick that I told myself I must have imagined it because he didn’t look at me that way. He was just being friendly.

At least that’s what I told myself…

I mean, I was only wearing a bathing suit. It was bright pink and covered with white polka dots, but teeny weenie bikini didn’t even really begin to cover it.

I don’t know what had come over me when I’d bought it. It wasn’t full coverage by any means, not even close. Actually, most of my ass practically hung out of it. The triangle top just barely covered my B-sized tits.

Did he like my tits?

I pulled the towel a bit tighter around my shoulders, hoping it was long enough to cover up my cheeks in the back and my hard nips that hopefully weren’t showing through the thin material of my top.

“I’m glad,” he said and then turned to the stove. He busied himself stirring the sauce with a wooden spoon. When he was satisfied, he took a small taste, grunted, and added a pinch of salt before he stirred it and tasted it again.

This time, he seemed happy with it.

“How was your day?” I asked, and he sighed.

“It was a good day,” he said, but his voice seemed pretty strained.

“That doesn’t sound like a good day,” I prodded shyly. He turned back to me and met my eyes, and I lost myself in them for the briefest of seconds before I remembered that I probably shouldn’t be looking at him like that and dropped my gaze.

“The restaurant,” he explained, and I nodded.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad to be home,” he said and then he gave me a real smile.

“The sauce smells like a really good batch,” I replied lamely, but he was quiet for a long moment before he turned back to me and leveled me with a firm stare like the one that he’d had on his face when he first walked into the kitchen.

“I overheard you talking about Dane earlier.”

Shit.

I felt a flush rise to my cheeks.

“Oh, that,” I said lamely.

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