Page 87 of The Single Dads Club
You’ve gotta be freaking kidding me.
He may have his back to me, but there’s no mistaking it. That’s Lexington Dane, sitting smack dab in the center of the beach on a striped green beach towel, his cupped hands scooping sand into the pink plastic pail in Grier’s tiny fist.
I can’t help the enormous sigh that escapes my lungs. Suddenly, the concept of a stress-free day is a sad, distant memory. So much for my double-chocolate fudge.
Before I can sayscrew itto my beach day and bolt back toward my car, Grier spots me, her face splitting with a big, giddy grin. She drops the plastic pail, sending sand spilling all over the towel as she claps her hands together with glee. “Corgi!”
Well, no turning back now, I guess.
Lexington follows his daughter’s gaze over his shoulder, pulling his aviator sunglasses off to get a better look. His blue eyes twinkle as a genuinely surprised smile breaks out across his face. “Well, hey there.”
I wiggle my fingers in a little wave, trying desperately to ignore the giddy feeling buzzing behind my rib cage.
No, Corrigan. We’re not supposed to be excited to see him.
Why is my heart not getting the message?
It takes some serious willpower, but I manage to pull my attention away from Lexington (in a pair of swim trunks, no less) and go back to combing the beach for a tanning spot. Preferably somewhere far in the opposite direction of the adorable daddy-daughter beach day happening in front of me.
But then I feel a tug on my swimsuit cover-up. Grier has her fist wrapped around the fabric, grinning up at me from behind her teeny-tiny heart-shaped sunglasses. I imagine Lex picking this out for her in a baby boutique and my heart squeezes.
“Up!” she demands, stretching her arms to the sky. Goodness, she toddled over here fast.
Of course I comply, scooping her into my arms, because I just can’t say no to this little munchkin. As much as I could use the day off, I can’t pretend like I haven’t missed her and her daddy these past few days.
“Hi, sweet girl.” I grin down at her, and Grier giggles.
I head toward Lexington, all the while getting an earful from Grier about the sandcastle they’re building. Although she pronounces it more likesan-capple. Part of me hopes she’ll never fully master her words. Her mispronunciations are so freaking adorable.
“I believe you lost this,” I say, teasing as I lower Grier back onto the towel next to ...
Holy smokes.Next to shirtless Lexington. Seeing him from the back was one thing, but from the front? Nothing could have prepared me for this.
Fuck. The man is gorgeous.
I can immediately feel the blush creeping across my chest and cheeks, and I pray to God that these giant sunglasses are covering at least part of it. Or maybe I could pass it off as a sunburn or something? Anything that would keep him from knowing that one look at his firm, chiseled pecs has me redder than a summer sunset.
Sure, I saw him shirtless plenty of times when we dated. During sexy times, yes, but also during normal day-to-day moments. Like when he and my brother would come in from shooting hoops in our driveway, both of them sweaty and smelling worse than a boys’ locker room in June.
He was toned then, but he was also young. A boy.
But the Lexington Dane in front of me now is all man. And I meanallman. I literally have to look up at the sky to keep myself from counting his abs. Not that I need to. I know for a fact there are six of them, each chiseled and firm.
If this is a dad bod, well, sign me the heck up.
To make this uncomfortable moment even more awkward, Grier decides to chime in with her thoughts on the situation. “Daddy, Corgi so pretty!”
Oh sweet Jesus. Of all the things she could say right now, did she have to go with that?
But Lexington just chuckles, ruffling Grier’s windblown hair. “Yeah? I think she looks good in blue too.”
Wait. Blue? But my cover-up is white.
I glance down, double-checking that I’m not losing my mind, only to discover that the sunlight is shining through the thin white fabric just right. My little blue bikini—and everything else it doesn’t cover—is fully on display. And by the way Lex clears his throat into his fist and subtly adjusts his swim trunks, I’m thinking he may be enjoying the view quite a lot.
What. Is. Happening?
“Grier, honey, why don’t you go fill up the bucket with water?” he says, picking up the pail and handing it over to his daughter. “Wet sand will be better for oursancapple.”
