Page 21 of The Single Dad Project

“Gum?”

“Nope, don’t have that, either.”

Jussy sighed, sounding incredibly put out, and Flo bit the inside of her cheek, still managing to hold in her laughter. This one looked like she could be a handful. Tilting her head, Jussy peered up at her, lips twisted to the side as if deep in thought.

“You could go get some candy, and I’ll wait here for you,” she suggested.

This time Flo let her laughter fly. Jussy, probably thinking her hilarity meant capitulation, giggled with her.

“Jussy, I don’t think—”

“Jussy! Justine, where are you?” A tall man stalked into view from around the side of the house, his steps hurried. Jussy’s father? Good. She had some words for a man who let his daughter just roam around a dilapidated, empty property unsupervised. “Jus—” He bit off his daughter’s name as he caught sight of them from a distance and slammed to a halt. But only for a moment. His body propelled forward, and his long legs, encased in black denim, swiftly carried him closer. “Who are you, and what are you doing with my daughter?” he growled. “What are you doing here—You.”

“You.”

Shock plowed into her, and she stumbled back a couple of steps, loosening her grip on Jussy’s hand.

It washim. The man who was supposed to be a scalding-hot one-night stand, then a memory. The man who’d refused to be said memory and followed her into sleep to torture her with by-plays of those sex-filled hours.

Adam.

What? Why...How?

He’d said he wasn’t from Rose Bend; she clearly remembered that. Because if he’d answered “yes,” there was no way she would’ve asked him to come home with her.

No, no. She would’veremembered. Especially since there was nothing about that night she’d forgotten. Nothing.

Oh God. Washethe new owner of the house? The disconcerting idea flashed through her mind, and right on the heels of it nipped horror. Was that theplanningJussy had been referring to? No, Fate couldn’t be this cruel to her.

“Daddy, this is Flo,” Jussy announced, grabbing Flo’s hand again and holding her arm up as if her father hadn’t seen her. “She’s my new friend.”

His stare dropped to their clasped hands and narrowed as if the sight of it offended him to his soul. And when that golden gaze lifted to hers, she convinced herself a shiver didn’t work itself through her. And that a wake of heat didn’t follow.

The last time she’d seen these hazel eyes, they’d been burning into hers as she shook and trembled in orgasm beneath him, her arms and legs squeezing him close. Her hand rose to her stomach and pressed to the slick tug just under her navel. It didn’t take much effort on her part to feel the phantom thrust of his cock inside her, stretching her, possessing her...

She released a low, shaky breath.

“Your new friend,” he repeated, and that low rumble of a voice rolled through her, reawakening nerve endings and stirring a desire that had never fully banked. “Flo, is it?”

For a moment her throat closed around the answer, a part of her still wary of giving him her name. But this wasn’t a bar or her apartment above the studio. They were in the real world now. She could no longer hide behind anonymity.

“Florence Dennison.” Though her naked body had been pressed to his only days ago, she still ground her teeth together, bracing herself as she extended her hand toward him. “Nice to meet you.”

Oh yes. She was doing this. Playing the “I’ve never seen you before in my life, please play along” card.Shit.This was a new low for her. She usually didn’t give a damn what people thought about her or her choices. But in her defense, she’d never been in this position before, either.

Never had to greet a man she’d taken home in front of his young child.

That made things...awkward.

“You can call her Flo,” Jussy volunteered, wrapping Flo’s arm around her shoulders and leaning into her thigh. “That’s what everyone calls her.”

“Is that right?” he murmured finally, as if in slow motion, reaching out and enclosing her hand in his. His gaze moved over her face like a physical caress—no. No caressing. But even as she admonished herself, she couldn’t stop hearing that same voice growl “queen” in her head. Or prevent the dull, nagging ache from throbbing between her legs. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Flo. Adam Reed.”

Adam.

Immediately, every time she’d called his name—on a soft sigh of pleasure, on a sharp cry, on the edge of an orgasm so intense it toyed with pain—bombarded her. He hadn’t played fair. She’d specifically requested no names. And he’d given her his.

Irrational anger simmered inside her. Realizing he still caught her hand in his, she jerked it free. Damn him for giving their...encounter another level of intimacy she hadn’t asked for. On the contrary, she expresslyhadn’tasked for it.

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