Page 41

As I pull out the swimsuit my eyes land on the bikini Aunt Scarlett made me buy.
“You said you wanted to have fun,” I murmur to myself, recalling my resolve from the plane. Before I can talk myself out of it, I slip into the hot pink bikini.
I turn around, inspecting myself in the mirror. It's scandalously skimpy, hugging my curves and leaving very little to the imagination. The bikini might as well be painted on. It offers next to no coverage, the vibrant pink fabric barely conceals my breasts, and that ridiculous teeny triangle barely covers my private parts.
Good thing I got that bikini wax. No stray hairs peeking out from the teensy sides.
Flustered, I turn my back and gaze at my reflection. And blush. It's not quite a G string—as thin as dental floss—but it still exposes alotof my bottom. I squirm in dismay. I might as well not wear anything.
But … I have a good figure. My breasts are perky and don’t look as small as I thought. The halter-neck gives them a lift. My stomach is flat and my legs are toned. I'm glad so Eliana coaxed me into going running with her in the evenings.
With my hair up in a messy bun, I toss some towels into the oversized beach bag and grab a sheer cover-up for some semblance of modesty. Then I hear a shriek from the other room.
“Brooke?” I rush out in a panic, and abruptly freeze in my tracks.
Jett is there, crouched beside Brooke, rubbing suntan lotion all over her. She’s giggling because it tickles. Then he turns to look at me, and his gaze locks on mine before trailing downward—slowly, deliberately. His eyes darken, shifting from piercing blue to something deeper, hotter, in the span of a heartbeat.
Time slows to a crawl and I clutch the cover-up in my hand.Great help that’s going to be.
His gaze feels like a physical touch, and my skin prickles in response. My nipples harden under the thin fabric, and I fight the urge to cross my arms.
“I-I t-thought you were in a …” I manage to say.
Meeting.Brooke said he was in a meeting.
“Y-you’re … going to the beach,” he remarks, his usual smoothness replaced by a stutter. Jett Knight, thrown off his game—unreal.
“Brooke wanted to.” My chest rises and falls quickly. I pray he hasn't noticed, or heard the beating of my heart, because his sunscreen-covered hands have stilled.
“Daddy, hurry up!” Brooke chirps. He’s suddenly pulled back to focus on her.
“Almost done, sweet pea.”
I stand there, watching. Wondering what he's thinking, knowing I need to put my cover-up on, but I'm still frozen by the thought that my boss has seen me almost naked.Almost.
It excites me more than it should.
“Put some on Cari, Daddy,” Brooke chirps, oblivious to the tension crackling between us.
God. No! “You don't have to. I c-can do it myself ...”
“She’ll burn if she doesn’t, Daddy!”
Jett stands, towering over me, and I still can't move. His expression is unreadable as Brooke thrusts the sunscreen bottle into his hand. “Here, Daddy.”
“I can do it,” I say quickly, reaching for the bottle, but Jett moves it out of my reach. Brooke shrieks. “Her back! She can’t reach her back!”
I frown, trying to figure out what's going on. Why Jett won’t give it to me. The space between us is charged.
“She’s right. I need to do your back. You have the type of skin that’s at risk.” His words send shockwaves through me.
“Where’s Elephant?” Brooke wails, looking around hopelessly.
“I think he’s on the stairs, sprout.”
She runs out of the room.
“Turn around,” Jett orders.