Page 6 of Temptress

She giggled again, shaking her head and slowly moving backward as I creeped in her direction. “I can’t. It’s the truth.”

“Then you’ll live to regret it.” I snatched the paint roller from the tray and bolted for her. She let out a shrill scream that morphed into a hysterical laugh as she turned to run, but I was too fast for her. With one long swipe, I painted a primer-white stripe from her head all the way down her back.

She stopped, sucking in a gasp so large, she stole most of the oxygen in the room. With her arms extended out at her sides, she slowly turned, her jaw hanging open and her eyes bugged out. “You didnotjust do that!”

It was a damn good thing I’d laid down drop cloths everywhere, because a second later, Darcy snatched up one of the clean, unused brushes and dunked it right into the can of primer, flinging a thick streak of white wide as she charged at me.

Her laughter gave me life as we attacked each other with paint until we were both covered, clothes and skin streaked with white. Darcy’s eyes were dancing, the smile on her face so big I felt like the pieces of my heart that had been in tatters at her unhappiness were stitching themselves back together.

She got me good, right down the center of my face, just as her cellphone began to chime from her back pocket. And that was all it took for her to completely forget we were having a moment for the first time in longer than I wanted to think about.

She dropped the paintbrush, and it landed on the drop cloth with a sickeningsplat. I watched her face, seeing the instant whatever she read on her phone sucked all that joy right back out of her.

“Everything good?”

My little girl disappeared in an instant, replaced with the sullen, moody version I’d had for far too long now. “No. It’snotgood,” she spat, the miserable frown overtaking the beautiful smile she’d just given me. “That was Kelsey texting to tell me that Ryan Summers asked Jeanie Smith to be his girlfriend.”

It was like she was speaking a totally different language. My brow furrowed, the drying primer on my face pinching my skin tightly as I frowned in confusion. “And that’s bad?”

“Ugh! Yes,Dad! That’s awful! I had a crush on Ryan all summer long, and Kelsey said he was going to askmeto be his girlfriend. But then you made me move here and ruined my life!”

For the love of—I pulled in a calming breath through my nose before responding, careful to keep my tone neutral. “Sweetheart, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Your mom and I already told you that you can’t date until you’re sixteen.”

She shot acid at me from her eyes. “You don’t get it!” she shouted, throwing her arms up. “God, you’re the worst!” she issued as she stormed up the stairs. Then she landed the killing blow, gutting me open right before slamming her bedroom door shut. “It should have been you that left, not Mom! I hate living with you!”

4

SLOANE

Iwas elbow deep in soil, working in the flowerbeds in my backyard, when the sound of the neighbor’s back door opening and slamming shut drew my attention from the weeds I’d been pulling.

Over the past few days, I’d caught sight of my sexy new neighbor as he came and went a couple of times, but there had been no more attempts at conversation since my efforts to welcome them to the neighborhood had been so rudely rebuffed.

I didn’t know what the hell the guy’s problem was, but he’d been a total asshole. I told myself to ignore him; pretend he didn’t exist.

Only curiosity had me creeping over toward our shared fence, dusting the dirt from my gardening gloves as I leaned forward to peek through the knot hole in one of the boards. Almost every inch of him was covered in white paint, but that did nothing to hide the sadness and defeat etched into his features and the way he held his big, strong body. I would have been lying if I said it didn’t tug at my heart a little as I watched him brace his hands on his hips and tilt his head back toward the sky, or when he heaved out a sigh and dropped it forward, giving it a disheartened shake.

I didn’t know what he was struggling with, but it was clear that whatever it was, it weighed heavily on him.

He moved to the hose coiled on the holder and pulled a few loops free before twisting the handle until water poured from the nozzle. I blinked out of my stupor when he stripped out of his shirt and began to soak himself down, washing the paint off his chest, face, and head in the middle of his backyard.

My mouth went dry as the Sahara at the sight of all those rippling muscles and the tattoos that were drawn into golden tanned skin. If I thought he was a sight with his shirt on, it was nothing compared to what he looked like without it.

Most of the paint was gone thanks to his backyard rinse, but there were still flecks of it here and there he’d have to scrub away. And on that thought, my mind went straight into the gutter. I pictured the man standing naked under the shower spray, working soap across his skin. He was a man’s man, meaning he’d probably used his hands to work up a lather, nothing as froufrou as a shower puff or even as functional as a washcloth. I bet if I were to run my hands across his body to scrub him clean, all those muscles would feel like rocks beneath my palms. I could imagine rubbing across his chiseled stomach like a washboard.

God, he really was gorgeous. It was such a shame he was a world-class jerk.

I swallowed to relieve the dryness in my throat as he tossed the hose aside and cranked the water off. His bicep clenched and bulged when he lifted his hand to rake it back and forth over his short hair, sending droplets of water flying.

Even that was sexy.

His chest heaved, his thick, rounded pecs riding and falling on a weary inhale before he turned, facing the back door. He stared at it as if he were steeling himself to go back inside. I counted the seconds, all thirty of them, before he finally disappeared back inside, none the wiser that I’d been spying on his personal, private moment.

* * *

“I think I might be a dirty, creepy, peeping Tom.”

At my admission, Asher stopped in the process of uncorking a bottle of wine and blinked once. Twice. “I’m sorry. What?”

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