Page 47 of Challenged by the Single Dad

Up until last night, she was certain that he hated her.

He was a grumpy, grieving widower.

She was a broken, grieving mess.

Nothing about them made sense.

Except … when she licked her lips, she desperately wished that it wasn’t her freshly applied lip gloss that she tasted, but rather Dom’s lips.

“You okay?” he asked, breaking her from her trance and forcing her to open her eyes.

She cleared her throat again. “Yeah. Sorry. Just … not sure that happened there. Anyway. Make it like you would a Bloody Mary. I’ll salt the rim.”

His shoulder bumped hers as he measured out all the ingredients into the shaker, and heat instantly filled her body. Her pussy spasmed, her breathing and pulse picked up again.

“H-how was the pasta?” she asked, needing to keep the conversation light and platonic.

“Really good. They made sun-dried tomato linguini.” He put the lid on the shaker and lifted it up, bumping her again. “Sorry.”

She stepped half a step to the side, her body now completely on fire as his biceps bunched and tightened while he shook the drink over ice in the air.

Her mouth went dry and her jaw dropped open at just how big those biceps were. Holy shit. They were like softballs under his skin.

He removed the lid, then strained the beverage into the glass over ice.

“Don’t forget the beans,” she said, reaching behind them for the jar.

“Can’t forget the beans.” He used the tongs to dig out four, then stuffed them into the glass before lifting it up. “To clam juice?”

That made her smile and some of the heated, horny tension inside of her settled. It didn’t fade, it was all still there. It just … relaxed a bit. Allowed her to breathe deeper and not wish like hell he’d take off his shirt.

Okay, that was a lie. She still really wished he’d rip off his shirt.

She watched without blinking as he brought the glass up to his full lips and took a sip.

Then he was quiet.

“You’re deliberately torturing me,” she said, transfixed on his tongue as it slid across the seam of his lips to gather the leftover droplets and some of the celery salt.

That made him smile. “It’s good. It’sreallygood.”

Now she was smiling like an idiot. “See? I know what I’m talking about. And so do the Canadians.”

“Apparently.” He took another sip.

“How’s your head?”

“I took a Tylenol and iced it for a few hours at home. Justine also put some surgical glue on it. I thought I’d get some of those cool, white butterfly bandages to look all badass, but she said I didn’t need any. It was either the glue or a Spiderman Band-Aid, and those are for Silas.”

“I’m really sorry,” she said again.

“I know you are.”

Silence fell between them.

Her gaze landed on his mouth once again.

He had really nice lips. They were full and even though they tended to tip downward, even while in rest, that frown didn’t detract at all from how beautiful he was. Because the man really was beautiful.

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