Page 6 of Navy Daddy

Maybe more than a little aroused.

“I don’t think I could do that, even if I wasn’t all out of steam.” I’m still fighting to steady my breathing. If I tried to mimic what he’d just done, I’m pretty sure I’d fall over.

“Need to take a break?” The tension in his body drops, his hands falling to his side. And that killer look shifts back behind a soft smile.

“A few minutes.” I came out here with the intention of standing my ground and showing Arthur I’m not the big softy he thinks I am. Well, I was wrong.

“I’ll grab you a drink. Take a minute to relax, and when you’re ready, we’ll do some groundwork.” He spins on his heels to the camping table Father set up for us.

He pours two tall glasses full from a pitcher, and ice cubes clink against the sides as they fall into their new vessel. I’ve never been more thankful for something to drink.

“Small sips,” he says, handing me a glass. “You’re doing well. Keep it up, and you’ll be cracking skulls like the best of us.”

“You think?” I take my first of four small sips. I don’t bother with another quirky quip about how that’s not what I want to do. I might as well drop the pretense of being a humble helper while I’m doing this whole thing. Knowing how to fight doesn’t have to change who I am inside.

“Yes. You’re a blank canvas. No experience means no bad habits to unlearn. It’ll take time to perfect, but you’ll get there quick.” He swallows most of his glass in one big sip.

I wish I could do the same. But I take my small sips, one after another, to avoid spewing my breakfast over the lawn.

“Have you done a lot of this?” I ask. It’s half to make small talk but also out of curiosity. I don’t know much about the man in front of me, and if we’re going to spend the next few weeks together, I might as well try.

“Sure.” He turns his head away from me, and a brief flash of sorrow darts across his eyes. “A lot of good folks had to learn how to fight or die, and I had to be their shepherd.”

“Was it hard?” His cryptic response brings more questions than answers, but something tells me that’s how he wants it to be.

With a smile and a shake of his head, Arthur finishes the last sip of his lemonade and reaches for mine. “I’ll answer you, but not now.”

“Then when?” I furrow my brow in false frustration, taking one last sip before handing him my glass. I can almost hear the words out of his mouth before he says them.

“Over dinner.” He puts our glasses back on the table before tightening the padded gloves around his hands again. “Right now, I’m going to get you on the ground, and we’re gonna do some rolling around.”

The way he speaks makes my knees weak. I know he means we’re sparring, but hell, I can’t stop thinking about tumbling around with both of us … shirtless. Pants-less. Hard and wet. Bodies touching, wrestling each other and against our base urges.

I have to stop myself from drifting too far, but the smirk on his face isn’t helping. He’s watching my teeth sink deeper into my lip, my eyes showing the signs of my spiraling mind.

“A date it is, then.” I clear my throat and get ready for whatever he has planned next.

6

ARTHUR

Adate.

I sure as shit implied it, but I didn’t want to be the one to say it. I almost feel dirty just thinking about taking Eva out. Might be because I’m fifteen years her senior, but probably because I’m still holding onto the thought that being her father’s employee means something. But I can’t stop myself. Eva pulls my deepest wants right to the surface without even trying.

I’d be damned if I let this opportunity slip through my fingers. It can be my in with Eva, and if I’m lucky, my way inside her too.

Steady on, Arthur. There’s still a lot of sunlight to burn before you can let your mind roam free. Don’t want another incident like yesterday.

“Groundwork’s both incredibly simple and the hardest thing you’ll ever learn,” I finally answer her question.

It doesn’t stay calm long. Turning back to meet her eyes is enough to send me down another rabbit hole of fucked up thoughts relating to the things I want to do to her sweat-soakedbody. Her shirt’s sticking to her skin, rock-hard nipples poking through, amplifying those thoughts a thousand times over.

“What’s the simple part?” Eva asks.

She’s so fucking gorgeous. Pure, effortless beauty. Light freckles splashed across red flushed cheeks from our intense training. Soaked-through blonde hair, tied in a tight ponytail, bouncing down her back. Boxing gloves protecting her delicate hands.

My perfect woman. Hell, if this is how she showed up to our date, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off her.

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