Page 113 of From the Start

“You’re fucking with me?”

Miles claps my shoulder. “Duh.”

I should have known. Zane and Miles are shit stirrers to their cores. “Come in.” I open the door and usher them inside.

“Hey, Mr. P.” Miles waves at Henry.

Harper enters the living room and I forget how to breathe. She’s wearing a tight, red dress that hugs all her curves. Curves I’ve touched and tasted. Curves, I can’t wait to get my hands on again.

Zane chuckles next to me. “Dude, breathe.”

I stalk toward Harper. “You’re beautiful, Slugger.”

She blushes and I can’t resist trailing a finger from her cheek down her neck to the top of her chest. Goosebumps follow in my wake. I kiss her cheek before whispering, “I can’t wait to fuck you with this dress on.”

“It’s a good thing I didn’t wear panties, then.”

My cock springs to life. It goes from half hard to fully erect with such speed, I’m dizzy from the loss of blood flow to my brain.

“You’re a tease.” The words come out strangled.

“You told me – and I quote here – put on something sexy enough to tease a smuggler into giving up his loot.” She wiggles her shoulders, and I groan when I realize she’s not wearing a bra either.

“Mission accomplished.” I readjust my cock in my pants and she smirks. “Trouble.”

I wrap an arm around her and lead her toward the door. She stumbles to a halt when she notices Zane and Miles standing in the living room next to her dad.

“What are they doing here?”

“They’re going to watch your dad while we go out.”

Her mouth gapes open. “Zane and Miles – your brothers who think advisory warnings are for losers – are going to watch Dad?”

“Advisory warnings are totally for losers,” Zane says.

I glare at him. “You’re not helping things.”

“What?” He shrugs. “It’s true.”

Harper fists her hands on her hips. “Okay. Here are the rules for this evening. One. No wheelchair races in the house. Or outside of the house, either. Two. No sword fights with Dad’s canes. Three. Make sure Dad gets a healthy dinner. And, finally, no feeding Dad Fruit Loops no matter how much he bitches and whines.”

“I don’t bitch or whine,” Henry claims. I bite my tongue before I laugh since he’s totally lying.

Zane whips out a Boy Scout salute. “We promise to be good.”

Harper snorts. “You weren’t ever a Boy Scout.”

“I could have been, but I got blackballed.”

Miles laughs. “Blackballed? Is that what we’re calling getting kicked out for trying to start a badge for best male stripper?”

Harper groans. “Maybe we should stay home.”

I usher her toward the door. “No way. I made reservations.”

I rush her to my SUV and drive away before she has the chance to protest further.

“Where are we going anyway?” she asks once we’re driving. “We’re driving away from Smuggler’s Rest.”