Page 4

Tennessee

The moment she swings her leg over the bike behind me, everything shifts. The weight of her mood has lifted and whatever’s happening today is spread out in front of us like the beginning of a movie we’re about to press play on.

A PG rated movie. No, a G rated movie. I have the barista to thank for that. The hot dad comment was just what I needed to feel like a pervert. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to live that one down.

That said, it was a fair observation. Sienna is young. Too young for me. I have no business letting this go any further than the little bit of pretend we’re playing. At this point, even that feels too far.

Her small hands hold tight around my waist and her head rests gently against my shoulder blade as I throttle up and tear through the forest. The world around us blurs in a smear of green and blue, and the scent of pine fills my lungs.

Lately, these trips have been great, but today, with the bit of warmth of her breath on the back of my neck as we slow for turns, the ride is a whole new experience.

Why does this feel so damn good?

The lake comes into view as we top the mountain, and I make a pact with myself to work the rest of what I’m feeling through my head before we settle into our fishing spot.

I can’t have these thoughts ruining my fucking life.

What could even come of it? We’re not getting married, we’re not having kids, and she’s not into me, so whatever I’m feeling is void.

I downshift and coast the rest of the way to the edge of the lake, gravel crunching under the tires the closer we get to the turquoise water.

It’s a quiet day, as are most days up here.

Thankfully, today we’re alone. There isn’t another human in sight, like we own the lake for ourselves. Our own personal, private sanctuary.

We’re as far as the road takes us when I fire off the engine and stare out at the turquoise expanse.

Her arms don’t move when the engine cuts.

She stays still in the moment, her small hands still wrapped around my waist, clinging as though she doesn’t want to let go.

Maybe it’s all in my head. Either way, it undoes me, and there’s a second that’s quiet and suspended, where I think maybe she’ll stay right there, holding on forever.

A moment later, she slides off the bike, and the moment’s gone. I watch her walk toward the lake, loose and unguarded, like this place peeled off a layer she didn’t know she was wearing.

I swing my leg over the bike, boots hitting the gravel before I grab the folding fishing pole and the tackle box out of the saddlebag on my bike. I keep it there for impromptu fishing stops. It comes up more often than you’d think.

Today, we’re fishing. That’s it. I’m showing her something slow and relaxing. I’m giving her a morning she deserves. Nothing sexual. Nothing emotional. Nothing personal. It’s just a day at the lake with a girl who needs a break.

I step toward her, repeating the mantra in my head. ‘ Don’t do anything dumb. Don’t do anything dumb. Don’t do anything dumb. ’

She turns as I get close, the wind tugging her hair, her eyes impossibly clear. I should stop looking at her. I need to stop looking at her.

“You okay?” she asks, feathering her fingers back through her long blonde hair as a soft breeze blows between the pines.

“Yeah,” I clear my throat and step into the sand, “just grabbed the fishin’ gear. You ready?”

She holds her gaze on mine. “Thank you for getting me out today. I really needed it.”

God help me! I want to kiss her more than I want my next breath.

“Yeah, no problem. You work hard and you deserve a break.”

A sweet smile lifts her cheeks softly, and I swear to fucking God it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I shift the tackle box in my hand, not trusting myself to speak. She steps closer. Close enough that I could trace the freckles on her cheek or the curve of her jaw, but I don’t.

I can’t.

Her hand rests on my shoulder, and she leans in slowly, pressing her soft, tiny frame against mine. “I mean it. I appreciate you. I’ve been alone out here since I ditched my insane family, and… it’s nice to have someone to count on.”

My cock stretches hard down the inside leg of my jeans, though there’s a red flag waving around in my head.

She ditched her family and moved here?

“Where did you move from?” My heart slams heavy against my ribcage as I wait for her response.

“Miami. My parents are total assholes.”

“Miami?” My voice barely escapes my mouth. This can’t be a coincidence. “Your dad,” I stop myself but the name burns my tongue, “is your dad Victor White?”

The air thickens as a hawk screeches on the other side of the lakeshore.

“How do you know my father?”

I drag in a deep breath as my heart is replaced with a cinder block anchor. “It’s a long story.”

She crosses her arms across her chest and narrows her brows as the hawk calls again. I’m starting to think it’s an omen.

“I’ve got time. How do you know him?” Her eyes widen. “Oh my God! You said you were going to medical school. Is that where you met him, in some medical thing?”

I nod slowly, pinching my lips together as I try to keep the terrible things I want to say about her father to myself.

“Why did you quit? I thought you were lying back at the shop.”

“It was just a thing,” I say, breaking our stance to tread toward the lake with the pole.

The girl follows. “Wait. You can’t leave me hanging like that. You know my dad. That’s… weird.”

“Why is it weird?” I ask, setting the box on a downed, waterlogged tree. “It’s just a thing that happened.”

“It’s not, though. You’re upset about something,” she presses, standing between me and the lake with her dress blowing in the breeze. “What happened with my father? If you fought with him, I’d understand. He’s an asshole.”

I hook the shiny lure to the end of the wire and step to the side of the girl I most definitely need to forget before casting my line.

“Hey, are you ignoring me?” she continues, stepping into the turquoise lake. Snow-capped mountains rise up behind her and I take a mental picture of the moment. “Oh my God! What—” She steps to the side and trips on a rock, landing herself splat in the water beside my fishing line.

I drop the pole and go in after her, immediately feeling guilty that she’s soaked her pretty pink dress and drenched the hair it looks like she spent all morning primping.

“You okay?” I ask, crouching next to her in the freezing shallows.

“Soaked, but I’ll live,” she laughs, sinking her hand into mine, allowing me to help her up from the rocky shoreline.

I should say something, but the words won’t come, not when she’s looking at me like that. Cheeks flushed, dress clinging to every curve, nipples hard and pointed.

Fuck! My cock betrays me!

She grins, noticing the betrayal. “Oh, is this why you don’t want to talk about my father? You’re embarrassed that you’ve got the hots for his much younger daughter?”

“I don’t have the hots for you, little girl. I’m just helping you out.”

“Little girl?” She grins, and her voice stays playful as though the lake water has washed away the last of her inhibitions when she says, “That’s hot… and your cock is really hard for a guy who’s not into me.”

I’m not sure what’s happening. It feels like a dare, like a tear in the fabric of reality, like a second skin I step into, like the beast I’ve been holding back cracks the code and steps out of his cage. Without thought, I pull her close, lean into her lips, and kiss her hard and fast.

She gasps but doesn’t pull back. Her hands fist into my shirt, and that’s it… all the permission I need.

“This is wrong,” I mutter against her mouth, the words barely hanging on my breath.

“Then stop,” she whispers.

But I don’t. I can’t.