As we face one another, his attention drops to my lips.
“I have another confession to make.” His gaze remains on my mouth, and I lick my lips, watching those silvery eyes flicker. “I saw you in this yard another time.”
“Really?” My voice rises in wonder. What could he have possibly seen? Thankfully, he doesn’t have creeper written all over him, but isn’t that the way serial killers attract their victims? Charisma and good looks are a smokescreen for bad men.
“I saw another something I probably shouldn’t have seen.”
My heart skips a beat, and a nervous sweat breaks out on my palms, although I’m not fully comprehending what he suggests. My mind races through a mental calendar, counting back the days, wondering what I could have been doing in my yard to cause his voice to drop in both confession and contrition.
“You were out here. Alone on this person-and-a-half lounger. Alone,” he repeats as his brow arches, hinting further at what he saw. It takes me a moment to catch his meaning. Oh. Oh. My cheeks flame, and I’m thankful for the dark night around us. That was a few nights ago, and I’d had the evening off. It was just one of those nights. I might have had a bit too much wine, watched an exhilarating movie, and the breeze just felt too good against my warm skin. I never expected someone to see me, but I remember sensing something watching me—which I now know was someone—and stopped what I’d started. Later, I’d been unable to pick back up where I’d left off in the yard.
I tug at my hand under Zack’s firm grip, embarrassed that he saw me, but he isn’t releasing me.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” he suggests, dropping his tone even further. His gaze doesn’t leave my lips.
I don’t have a good explanation for doing what I was doing in the yard, so I blurt out a different thought. “It was better than having a one-night stand.” I have no idea why I say such a thing. It sounded better in my head. It’s the truth, though. I’m not really a one-night stand kind of woman, and despite my occasional horniness, I’m not one to pick up a random man in a bar to get myself off. I’m well past those days.
Zack huffs before stating, “I had one of those and ended up with a wife and twins.” I want to know more about this story, but he asks me something instead.
“Why?” His expression has lost some of the edginess from earlier. His curiosity softens his features. He’s on the verge of dazzling.
“Why what?”
“Why alone?” His gaze roams my face. “You’re a beautiful woman. Why wasn’t a man out here pleasing you?” He’s so forward. Just like his boys. Just like him stealing my wine.
I shrug, and my shoulder brushes his. How do I explain that I haven’t dated in so long I can’t remember when my last date was? How do I describe the relationship I had with Quincy or, rather, didn’t have? How do I tell him it’s better to be alone?
“I wanted to join you,” Zack admits, and my mouth falls open.
“What?” I croak, my throat suddenly dry.
“Never mind.” Zack glances down at our hands, where his thumb caresses my knuckles. When he lifts his gaze, our eyes lock, and the magnetic sensation returns. Warning bells go off as I’m drawn to him when I should pull away. Licking my lower lip, I watch as his gaze drops to the movement of my tongue. He mimics the motion with his own against the lower swell of his mouth, and then he bites his lip hard, holding his teeth against the sensitive flesh. The smirk sends a thrill down my middle, and I squeeze my thighs. The responding tingle feels similar to the rush before . . .
“You should really stop spying on my yard,” I whisper, my voice raspy and rough.
“I don’t think I could stop if I tried,” he admits, still focusing on my mouth. I lick my lips again. The silence between us grows heavy, like a warm blanket around us. A light breeze whispers through the air. The trees seem to echo my thoughts. Kiss me.
Suddenly, Zack shifts. He slips my hand off his thigh, resting it in the barely-there space between us, and releases it. He lifts the wineglass and finishes the remainder in one long swallow. I roll to my back, not having noticed I’d shifted to my shoulder, mirroring his position of facing me.
“Thanks for the wine.” He holds out the glass like I’m waitstaff sent to do his bidding. Then he surprises me by pressing a kiss to my shoulder.
“Keep your clothes on,” he teasingly warns while a touch of that edgy tone from earlier returns.
“Close your blinds,” I advise, coyly narrowing my eyes at him.
“Not a chance.” He presses off the chaise and stands. Without a glance back from him, I shamelessly check out his ass while he retreats, and my girly parts dance with thoughts of him seeing me naked in other places than my backyard.
6
[Zack]
I’m a man who hardly sleeps. Every minute is money to me when it comes to my attorney practice and the development of Four Points. Money hadn’t always been a concern until I was a teen. Then every dime mattered. So, I’m up until three in the morning or waking at that time to get in a day’s worth of work before a day of play, even when I’m on vacation.
It’s only been twelve minutes since my boys snuck into River’s backyard again, and I had to retrieve them as she wasn’t home. They’ve just finished telling me how they found a loose piece of fencing behind Anna’s garage and slipped through the metal chain link to enter the neighbor’s yard.
“We were searching for Narnia,” Trevor states.
I don’t even know what that means until Mila clarifies. “Those kids went through a wardrobe, not a fence.”
What are we talking about? “Who went through a wardrobe?” I ask. Anna made breakfast for our crew, and we linger around the kitchen island and the small dining table in front of a large bay window near the sitting area. Pancakes on a Monday morning feel like heaven.
“The kids searching for Narnia,” Mila explains. Swiping a hand through my hair, I look at Anna for help. She’s putting away dishes that Mason has washed.
“It’s a book. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.” Anna tips a brow at me as if I should know this story. I vaguely remember a movie about such a thing when I was in my twenties.
“How do you know about Narnia?” I ask Trevor.
“Alexa read us the book.”
“Does he mean a nanny or the machine?” Mason asks, tipping up a brow, and sadly, I have no idea. The guilt of my ability as a father is layered thicker and thicker.
“So what’s today’s plan?” I interject, wondering if Anna would like some solitude instead of our crew’s constant chaos. Mason’s been surprisingly quiet while a shadow to Anna’s every movement. He does the dishes. He picks up things. He acts before being asked.
Our friend is a manwhore to the extreme, but his domestic support has been interesting to watch. He was here when Ben needed to be driven to appointments and eventually bathed or positioned. I honestly don’t know how Mason did it.
When I’d met Ben, he was the lawn boy. His father owned the local landscaping company, and Mr. Kulis worked on our yard as well as Anna’s next door. That’s how Anna eventually met Ben, and the rest is history even though it wasn’t that simple. Think princess and servant, and that’s the way I judged him until I had my own fall from grace. Ben was one of the first to accept me when others didn’t know how to react to what happened to my family. When most people shunned us. As Anna was my friend first, Ben became my friend by default until true friendship took over, and I’ve always regretted thinking less of Ben before getting to know him.