Page 15 of Hired By the Single Dad

“You seemed to do a pretty good job of undressing me with your eyes before the ceremony.”

I’d been waiting with Tierney, the two of us hovering just inside the living room as the groom, officiant, and guests waited patiently outside. The sun, which rose in a bright, clear sky this Christmas Eve morning, bathed the patio in warm golden rays. The two-hundred-and-eighty-degree view of the city, blanketed in shimmering white, was the perfect backdrop for the ceremony.

Tierney, as usual, nailed it and I told her so under my breath. She smiled as a string quartet played “The First Noel,” stalling as everyone waited for the bride to make her way to the wide open wall of sliding glass doors and down the aisle. “You’re not wearing your diamonds,” she’d murmured back, her gaze trailing to my earrings. No, I didn’t wear the teardrops today. I’d reached for them, but something stopped me, and I put them back in their little black case and snapped it shut.

Finally, from a hallway on our left, the bride and her father emerged. Garrett wore a tailored suit cut so well it fit like a glove. A sexy glove I wanted to peel off. The boutonniere he helped make yesterday was pinned to his lapel.

His steps faltered when he caught sight of my long-sleeved backless gown and his gaze drifted back in my direction at least twice, while Tierney helped Kendall slip into a faux fur, ivory wrap before he focused on walking the beautiful bride down the aisle.

A chuckle rumbles from deep in his chest and brings my thoughts back to the present. “Catch that, did you?” He drags a single finger across my low back, just above the twist of silk gathered at my tailbone. My breath hitches.

“Half of New York caught that look. You’re not very sly, you know.”

“Good thing I’m not trying to be. Especially now that I’m no longer your client.”

My grip tightens on the near empty flute in my hand. “What are you then?”

A beat and then, “What do you want me to be?” Garrett’s voice catches, ever so slightly, showing the first sign of vulnerability, the first crack in his confident suit of armor I’ve seen so far and it’s…endearing.

His entire palm presses against my back as if forging a physical connection between us will help tether us together. It does, although I still can’t articulate an answer to his question right now, in the middle of the reception before the cake has even been cut.

I dip my chin toward the bride and groom, both with wide smiles as they talk with a few guests. “Kendall said she and Justin forged their own path, made things work their way.”

“Kendall has always been wise beyond her years.”

As if she can tell we’re talking about her, Kendall glances toward us and winks, lifting her glass in our direction. I return the gesture, then down the last sip of the sweet, bubbly concoction. Garrett plucks the empty flute from my hand and sets it on the tray of a server passing by. “How about a dance?”

* * *

Twenty minutes later,I’m a swirling mess of hormones and my panties are wet despite the fact Garrett’s been a perfect gentleman as we’ve danced. No wandering hands or anything. Damn him.

But I shouldn’t complain. He’s a smooth dancer which, combined with two cocktails on an empty stomach, the festive atmosphere, and the twinkle lights, has me convinced that being wrapped up in this man’s arms is exactly what I want later today. And maybe every day for the rest of my life.

Garrett fills me in on the guests, who have given us a wide berth on the dance floor, along with not-so-subtle delighted glances.

“Have you really not dated anyone since Kerry passed?” I ask, finding it impossible to believe.

“Not seriously,” he says with the slightest shake of his head. “There was never anyone who stole my heart. Until you.”

I’m not ready to profess my love for this man, yet to say anything else seems inadequate, but I have to give him something. “I haven’t dated either.” I focus on the white rose pinned to his lapel at my eye level. “Since my divorce, I mean. I know it’s not the same as losing a spouse, but it was…messy and wrecked me. After that, I threw myself into my business.”

He squeezes my hand. “I never used to believe everything in life happened for a reason, but the longer I’ve lived, the more I’ve found it to be true.”

I can’t help it. I bite back a giggle. “Maybe someday, when I’m as old as you, I’ll feel the same.”

He eyes me, and finally, his hand slides down over the silk to cup my ass. He pulls me against him and an unmistakable rock-hard length meets my belly. “Happy to prove anytime how some things improve with age.”

I shimmy against him. “Have you been hard this whole time?”

“Sweetheart,” he says, leaning so close his hot breath skims my neck. “I’ve been hard since the moment you waltzed in here the other day and turned my world upside down.”

Oh. Well, then. “I have something for you, but I should add a warning that it’s likely not going to help your…er situation.”

“I want it.” It’s a declaration of fact if I ever heard one. No hesitation, no questions asked. I love it.

“Come with me.” I break off our embrace and grab his hand, tugging him from the dance floor down the hallway and swear he murmurs, ‘That’s what she said,’ under his breath.

* * *

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