Page 26 of Twisted Fate

“Here, let me try,” he said, removing one hand from the purple plastic. I thought he’d step aside and let me out of the way, but that wasn’t what happened. He moved in closer, his chest brushing my shoulders, and I sucked in a sharp breath. “Hold on to this side too,” he instructed, the deep timbre of his words settling between my legs. I did as I was told and braced for whatever came next.

I held the pool steady as he gripped the end of the hose and twisted. He let out a low grunt, and I closed my eyes against the images playing in my head of him making that same sound for a different reason. Finally, it gave way, and the hose came loose. For a moment, I simply stood there, a man that I shouldn’t have wanted at my back. But I did want him, despite how wrong it was. I wanted him to close that gap, to make the first move, to touch me and let me touch him. We both needed it. The tension between us coiled tightly like a snake ready to strike every time we were in the same room together. One of these days it would snap, and I’d be left in its wake, needing more than he could give me.

“You can set the pool down now,” Vance said finally, breaking the silence. His voice was strained, and I worried I’d held on too long and his arms had grown tired from being stretched out like they were. I began to lower the pool to the ground, and he released his hold on the rim.

I turned to find his gaze fixed on me, his chest heaving. His eyes burned with something carnal, something needy. I swallowed hard. The way he looked at me… A shiver rippled down my spine. I’d never seen that look in his eyes before. He wasn’t as unaffected by our closeness as I’d thought. He looked ready to devour me.

I had to do something to break through the tension that crackled between us. Nothing could happen. I was his daughter’s nanny. And since I was also her biological mother and wished to remain in her life, I couldn’t do anything to jeopardize that position. Having an affair with my boss would certainly complicate things and potentially ruin what I had built with Charlie.

“Thank you,” I breathed, “for helping me with that.” I reluctantly broke eye contact and motioned to the pool.

When I lifted my gaze again, his brow was furrowed, his jaw set in a hard line. Was he angry with me? He nodded and moved past me. I stepped to the side to avoid brushing against him. Touching him right now was a bad idea. I wouldn’t want to stop.

Without another word, he grabbed the pool, lifted it off the ground, and carried it back to the shed where it had been stored. I greedily soaked in the sight of his muscled back and shoulders flexing under its weight. I hadn’t felt this way toward a man in years and had no idea what to do with the urges that had reawakened in his presence.

As he put away the pool and closed up the shed, I escaped inside the house to change. After removing my wet swimsuit and slipping into my shorts and tank, I peeked in on Charlie before returning downstairs. It was just after four o’clock, and normally I’d start preparing dinner, but I wasn’t sure that was necessary since Vance was home. However, I had a bowl full of chicken marinating in the fridge that I’d planned to grill this evening, and if it didn’t get cooked, it would go bad.

Just then, Vance walked into the kitchen, pulling a shirt over his head. I caught sight of his washboard abs before they disappeared behind the soft cotton fabric of his t-shirt. His head popped through the neck hole, and I immediately looked away.

“You any good at grilling?” I asked, opening the fridge and leaning into it, not only to retrieve the chicken but also to cool my flushed skin. I placed the covered glass bowl on the island and leaned my hip against the countertop.

“That’s the only type of cooking Idon’tscrew up,” he replied with a chuckle. It was a nice sound, something I hoped to hear more.

“Good. I’ve got some chicken here that needs to go on,” I said, motioning to the red lid covering the cutlets soaking up my homemade marinade. “I’ll get the corn ready before I head out.” Opening the fridge, I pulled out the ingredients I needed and placed them on the counter.

“Delilah…” Vance said, then cleared his throat. His features pulled tight with deliberation. I remained silent as he searched for the right words. “Do you want to stay and have dinner with us?”

Unconsciously, I pulled the side of my bottom lip into my mouth and gently bit down on it as I considered his offer. I wanted to shout a resounding yes, but staying for dinner after the moment we shared earlier felt a lot like playing with fire. This was one flame we shouldn’t dance around. One or both of us would surely get burned.

Somehow, my head and heart both ignored the warning when I opened my mouth to respond. “I’d love to.”

26

Vance

I hadno idea what I was thinking when I asked Delilah to stay for dinner. It was stupid and impulsive, and now I was stuck dutifully trying to ignore her long, tan legs and the sliver of cleavage peeking out just above the neckline of her tank top. It was hot out, and she was merely dressed for the weather, but damn if it didn’t feel like the ultimate temptation.

Closing the lid to the grill, I chanced one last glance through the window where Delilah sat at the kitchen island, legs crossed with her head tilted down as she texted on her phone. I wondered if she was texting a man, a boyfriend perhaps, and a spark of jealousy ignited in my gut. She never talked about a guy, but then again, she and I hadn't talked much aside from discussions centered around Charlie until recently. I knew very little about her personal life, and even though I knew I shouldn’t pry, I suddenly needed to know more.

Delilah didn’t spare me a second glance when I came inside, and I wondered if I’d imagined her panting breaths and heated gaze earlier when we were close enough to touch. I’d been seconds away from leaning in and pressing my lips to hers before I gathered my wits. And she’d looked like she wanted it too. But now she appeared wholly unaffected by my presence.

“Chicken should be ready soon,” I announced, and she jumped, fumbling her phone. She hadn’t even noticed me come in. A frown pulled at the corners of my mouth. “Everything alright?” I asked, noticing the crease in her brow.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, shaking her head as though to clear her thoughts. I watched her, hoping she’d elaborate. She noticed the inquisitive tilt to my head and rested her elbow on the counter with a sigh. “It’s my friend Shayla.” I nearly sagged in relief, knowing it wasn’t a guy. “She’s fighting with her parents again. Well, more accurately her stepmom.” Irritation flashed in her eyes. Clearly Shayla was important to Delilah, and she was not a fan of the stepmom.

Until this moment, I never considered the possibility of Charlie one day having a stepmom. It wasn’t even on my radar. Sarah had only been gone six months. Sure, I was lonely and could use some companionship, but I wasn’t ready to move on. I hoped when the time came, I chose wisely, and whoever she was, she’d love my child as her own. Charlie was my top priority, and I’d sooner stay single the rest of my life than be with someone who treated her with any less love and kindness than Sarah did.

Or Delilah does.

That thought came on unbidden, and I quickly pushed it away. That line of thinking landed us in dangerous territory, a place full of emotional landmines I wasn’t ready to navigate.

Delilah’s phone chimed, drawing me from my thoughts. She picked it up, swiped her finger across the screen, and released a frustrated huff. “Ugh, her stepmom is horrible. I don’t know how you can claim to love someone then treat their kid like garbage.”

New fear unlocked. The idea of lifelong bachelorhood was looking better and better.

“I’d better check on the food,” I announced, pushing off the counter. If I didn’t get away from Delilah’s intoxicating scent and the unobstructed view I had of her cleavage, my resolve to stay single would be at risk of dissolving completely.

Twenty minutes later, a still sleepy Charlie sat in her spot at the kitchen table nibbling on a corn cob between yawns. Delilah had managed to wake her from her nap while I finished up the food. She’d been extra sleepy from playing in the sun all afternoon, so it had taken twice as long to rouse her.

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