Page 19 of Charm

“I prefer mine. You will, too,” I tell her, knowing I want,no,I need to have this woman in my home, and in my bed.

“What’s so special about it?” She inches closer to me, tilting her chin up as if she’s offering herself to me for a kiss.

I make the move, cupping my hand over her cheek before lowering my mouth to hers. I part her lips with my tongue, tasting the sweetness of the maple syrup and her.

She smiles against my lips. “If your pool is as impressive as that kiss, I can’t wait to dive in.”

I lean back slightly so I can look into her eyes. I’m completely captivated by her. “Meet me there for a drink this afternoon.”

She nods slowly. “Around four?”

“Sure,” I say, even though that feels like an eternity from now.

Her fingertips tap dance over my bare shoulder. “Why do I get the feeling that bikinis are optional in your pool?”

“They are,” I answer swiftly. “Swimming trunks are, too.”

“They’re always optional in your world, aren’t they?”

I don’t bother telling her that I was behind on laundry when I arrived from New York City yesterday, so I tossed both pairs of board shorts I brought with me into the washing machine along with a handful of T-shirts and some boxer briefs. It was a glaring reminder that I need to bring extra clothes with me on my next visit so I can leave them here.

I never imagined that during my brief swim, I’d be caught buck naked in Mrs. Frye’s pool. I’m glad I was, but swimming in the nude isn’t something I’ve done more than a handful of times in all of my thirty-three years.

“You’re not complaining, are you?” I answer her question with one of my own.

Her laughter fills the air around us. “You know I’m not. I’m all for you being naked as often as possible.”

“If I didn’t have to deal with Martin, I’d drop my jeans right now,” I tell her.

Her hands slide down my shoulders until they settle on my forearms. “Save that thought until later. I’ll be at your house at four o’clock sharp.”

“I’m counting on it,” I groan, frustrated that I have to wait hours to see her again. “Don’t be late.”

“I won’t be,” she promises before she seals her lips over mine for a final kiss before I leave.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Greer

I scootaround a hedge that separates Mrs. Frye’s property from Joe’s. I’m taking the same path he did after I found him in the pool yesterday. I didn’t realize I was paying attention to exactly where he disappeared to since I was still in shock from seeing a naked, hot-as-hell stranger within the first few minutes of my weekend getaway.

I debated going down the winding driveway of the home I’m staying in and then up Joe’s driveway, but I took the shortcut route, and I’m glad I did.

My eyes widen as I gaze at what can only be described as a slice of East Coast paradise.

The grounds of Joe’s home are meticulously taken care of. The lush green lawn is cut to the perfect height. Beds of brightly colored flowers border trimmed hedges. A large pool is the centerpiece. It’s surrounded by what look like very comfortable light blue lounge chairs. A matching sectional is off to the side under a trio of large white umbrellas.

Not too far off in the distance, I see a tennis court. Judging by the line of leafy green trees that frame the edge of it, it’s set on Joe’s property.

In addition to all of that, a spectacular home is the crown jewel.

Painted shades of white and blue with too many windows to count, it has to be at least twice, if not three times, the size of Mrs. Frye’s house. To say it’s breathtaking is an understatement.

“You’re here!” Joe calls out to me from a spot on the lawn. I hadn’t noticed him standing there, but my excuse is that with this much beauty in front of me, I was temporarily distracted.

He’s wearing a pair of white board shorts and a light blue, short-sleeved button-down shirt that’s hanging open. Sunglasses shield his eyes from my view, but I know he’s staring straight at me.

For all of two seconds, I thought about walking over here with only my white string bikini and sunglasses on. I couldn’t summon the bravery to do that because I wasn’t sure if the pool repairman might still be lurking. The wispy white cover-up I’m wearing helped tame my reservations.

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