Page 16 of Stick Move

Jesus.

“I thought you might be thirsty,” I say, when she reaches the edge. Noah lifts her up, and she hurries to the table.

She squeals in delight and is practically shaking as I hand over her drink. “I got an umbrella, Daddy.”

“I see that,” Noah says, staying in the water. He puts his arms over the edge and rests his chin on his forearm. He arches a brow at me. “You coming in?”

“I might.”

“Daddy will toss you in the air, Ms. Brighton. It’s so much fun. Daddy, you’ll do it, right? You’ll toss Ms. Brighton into the air and catch her?”

He grins at me, and it’s a slightly devious grin, which does crazy things to the juncture between my legs. “Sure, if she wants me to.”

I try to keep my voice light as my body burns, wanting nothing more than to land in his strong arms and feel his hands on my body. God, what is happening to me? I don’t know, but now that Melanie has put ideas into my head—ideas that might have already been there—I can’t stop thinking about having a little fun with Noah.

“I think I’m too big for that,” I manage to push out. Noah is about to speak but I cut him off. “I got you a drink too.” I hold out a glass with red liquid inside, my own version of a Long Island iced tea.

He examines the color. “What is it?”

I cock my head. “A surprise.”

“I don’t much like surprises,” he tells me and takes a sniff of the drink.

I take a sip of mine and moan in delight. “Try it. I think you’ll like it. It’s my own special concoction.”

He takes a sip, frowns, and glances at his glass. “It’s really good.”

“I replaced the soda with cranberry juice.” He nods and takes another sip. “You expected me to give you something horrible?”

He laughs. “I’m not sure what I expected,” he says, almost to himself. Camryn takes a big drink through her straw and sets her drink down. She rushes to the edge of the pool and throws her arms out.

“Catch me.”

“One second. Let me put this down first.” Noah holds his drink out to me, and I bend to pick it up. Our hands touch, and something weird and inviting burns through me as my gaze flies to his. Trying to appear unfazed, I take the glass and in a fast, jerky movement, he lunges toward me playfully, like he’s going to pull me in, and I wobble as I shriek, nearly toppling in.

“Whoa,” he says laughing, and puts his hands on my shoulders to stabilize me. “I’m sorry, Brighton. I was only joking. I’d never dunk you.”

“Daddy,” Camryn shouts, jumping up and down and laughing. “Catch me.”

My heart racing, he inches back, giving me a very nice view of his bare chest. He might have been thin in high school, but he’s certainly filled out in all the right places. He brushes the scruff on his face, and as I note the deep acne scars, my stomach once again tightens.

“Come on, Bean.”

Camryn rolls her eyes and looks at me. “I don’t know why he calls me Bean.”

“Because you’re as cute as a bean,” I tell her.

She frowns and puts her hands on her hips. “Beans aren’t cute. Beans are yucky.” With that she backs up and jumps straight for her father and he catches her, just like she knew he would. I love her leap of faith, and how much trust she has in her daddy. It makes me think of my own dad. He was always there, a workaholic like me, and I thought I knew him, trusted him, until he died and left all his debt to me. I also trusted Allan, until I lost everything and he walked. I gulp. I think my days of trusting might be over.

But I don’t want to think about that right now. Right now, I want to forget about real life and enjoy this afternoon. I stand, and slip off my bathing suit cover up, and when I turn, I note the way Noah’s eyes are on me. Hot. Dark. Hungry. Much like the way I was staring at him only moments ago. Had he noticed that?

A jolt of heat goes through me, and I swallow against a suddenly dry throat. I turn away, grab my drink and take a big gulp. But when I look back at Noah, he’s still staring as his daughter swims around him.

I walk to the edge and sit down, dangling my legs in the water. Noah spins Camryn around and I’m about to slide in when she shouts, “I want another drink.”

“Okay, kiddo.” He pushes her to the edge of the pool and helps her out. “Need help?” he asks me as he hovers almost between my legs. It’s all I can do not to open them and pull him closer, but under these circumstances, it’s not appropriate. Let me correct myself. There will never be any circumstances where it’s appropriate.

“Jump, Ms. Brighton.”

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