Page 17 of Curvy Girl and the Single Dad Cowboy

What is wrong with me? Charlotte Wilson has been here less than a day. I know nothing about her beyond what she's told me and what the agency provided. And yet there I was, standing under the stars with my arm around her, contemplating kissing her like some lovesick teenager.

I haven't felt this kind of immediate attraction to anyone since... well, maybe ever. Sarah and I had a comfortable courtship that grew into affection and eventually marriage, but it never had this electric quality that seems to charge the air whenever Charlotte is near.

That should be a warning sign, not an invitation. Intense flames burn out quickly, and the last thing Lily needs is more instability in her life.

I get up and pace the length of my bedroom, trying to shake off this restlessness. I strip down to my boxers and t-shirt, go through my nightly routine on autopilot, but my mind keeps circling back to the feel of Charlotte's head resting against my shoulder, the way her eyes caught the starlight, how perfectly she fit against me.

I lie down, staring at the ceiling, urging sleep to come, but it's useless. My thoughts are a hurricane with Charlotte at the eye of the storm.

"This is ridiculous," I mutter to myself, throwing back the covers and sitting up.

I'm a grown man, a father, responsible for a business that's been in my family for generations. I don't do impulsive. I don't chase feelings like this.

And yet...

Before I can talk myself out of it, I'm on my feet, pulling on a pair of sweatpants, running a hand through my hair in a futile attempt to tame it. I have no plan, no script for what I'm about to do. All I know is that I won't sleep tonight if I don't at least try to make sense of whatever this is between us.

I open my door quietly, checking the hallway to make sure none of my brothers are around. The house is silent now, Aaron presumably having gone to bed. I move down the corridor, my bare feet silent on the hardwood floors, until I reach Charlotte's door.

I stand there for a moment, second-guessing myself. This is crazy. I should turn around, go back to bed, and pretend this moment of madness never happened. But then I remember the way she looked at me under the stars, and before I can change my mind, I raise my hand and knock softly.

For a long moment, there's no response, and I'm torn between relief and disappointment. Then I hear movement, and the door opens just enough for Charlotte to peer out, her hair tousled from the pillow, her eyes wide with concern.

"Vincent? Is something wrong? Is Lily—"

"Everything's fine," I say quickly, my voice low to avoid carrying through the quiet house. "I just..."

I trail off, suddenly at a loss for words. What am I doing here? What could I possibly say that wouldn't sound either unprofessional or completely out of line?

Charlotte opens the door a bit wider, revealing that she's wearing a simple tank top and pajama shorts. My borrowed flannel shirt is draped over the chair behind her.

"Vincent?" she prompts, her expression shifting from concern to curiosity.

I take a deep breath. "I couldn't sleep."

It's not what I meant to say, but it's the truth. Her eyes search mine, and I see the moment she understands exactly why I'm standing at her door in the middle of the night.

"I couldn't either," she admits.

Chapter 6 - Charlotte

"I couldn't either," I whisper, my heart hammering in my chest.

Part of my mind is screaming that this is my employer, that I've known him less than a day, that this crosses every professional boundary imaginable. But that rational voice is drowned out by the overwhelming pull I feel toward him.

"Would you like to come in?" I ask, stepping back from the doorway.

Vincent hesitates for only a second before entering. I close the door behind him, aware that we're now alone in my small bedroom, the rest of the house silent and sleeping.

The moment the latch clicks, something shifts. Vincent turns to me, and suddenly he's moving, closing the distance between us in one stride. His hands find my hips, pulling me against him as his mouth captures mine in a kiss that's both question and answer.

I gasp against his lips, momentarily surprised by his urgency, but my body responds right away. My arms wrap around his neck as I kiss him back with equal fervor, my desire awakening all at once.

His lips are firm yet soft, his stubble rough against my skin in a way that is both delicious and intoxicating. He tastes faintly of mint toothpaste and a manly musky scent that belongs only to him.

I can't believe this is happening, but I can't resist him either. I've never wanted anyone the way I want Vincent Covington right now.

His hands slide from my hips to my back, pulling me closer until I can feel the hard planes of his chest against me. The thin fabricof my tank top does nothing to hide how my body reacts to his touch, my nipples stiff against his chest.

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