SEX THERA—. WELL, there went any hopes I had of parental support. Looks like it’ll be up to me alone to keep that kid’s grubby paws off my daughter.
“And what’s your name, gorgeous?” Tinkerbell asks, withdrawing her tiny hand from mine and reaching out for my little girl’s.
“Evangeline.”
“That’s such a pretty name. Y’all have got to be from Louisiana, too, with a name like Evangeline?”
What is it with this woman acting like we’re all pals? I came here looking for some assistance in keeping these two apart, not to help them get to know one another better. And why is she looking at me like she’s hiding some dirty secret? More importantly, why am I so curious?
“My parents are from a town called Catahoula, but we live about an hour from New Orleans in Livingston.” Vangie flips her hair dramatically, an obvious move for that boy’s attention.
“Ah, I know just where you’re talking about. I used to work in New Orleans, and Landon here lived there his whole life, until we all moved back to Cedar Grove the year before last. Right, Lan?” Gina, the sex therapist, nudges the little punk with her elbow, trying to include him in the conversation.
Evangeline’s face turns somber, and my heart grows tight inside of my chest because I know what’s coming. “Well, we used to live in Catahoula until Mom died. We’ve only been in Livingston about three years.”
Gina reaches out a hand, smoothing down my daughter’s hair in an affectionate manner—the way a mother would. I don’t know why that bothers me so much, but I don’t like seeing another woman in Jessica’s place. This is stupid. She’s a stranger. She is nothing to me. “I’m sorry about your mom, sweetie.”
Shaking myself from a daze, I clear my throat. “All right, well—it was nice meeting y’all. If you could encourage Landon here to keep away from my daughter, I’d appreciate it.” Grabbing Vangie’s hand, I begin to move away when I feel someone take hold of my other arm.
“Jeffrey?” The petite blonde calls in a warm, raspy voice that sounds far too mature for her tiny frame and youthful face. She pulls in close, her hand resting on the front of my T-shirt, causing my heart to drum in my chest. She rises to her tippy toes, breathing hot on my ear. Making sure not to let the children hear, she whispers, “I can see you’re having issues with this.”
I grunt in response, trying not to react to her nearness. To the smell of strawberries and coconuts that are engulfing my senses.
“But, there is nothing you or I am going to do that’s going to keep these two apart, short of locking them in our cabins for the duration of the trip…”
“Please, Tinkerbell—”
Her eyes widen at my slip of the nickname I’ve been calling her in my head.
“Don’t think I’m not considering doing just that.”
“Do you want to make her hate you?” Her warm fingers tighten around my bicep. “Because I can tell you that’s exactly what you’re going to do if you continue treating her this way. I can see that you don’t like me. That’s okay. To be completely honest, I don’t like you either. But, Landon means the world to me. He is a good kid. You couldn’t ask for better for your daughter’s first crush. The way I see it, we’ve got two options. We can either choose to explore this thing with them, together. Or, forbid them, and they’ll sneak around. Hell, even if they don’t…Do you think your daughter will ever tell you about her personal life if this is the expectation you’ve set?”
My tongue rolls across my front teeth, and I swallow a lump of pride, because as much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. Jessica and I began seeing each other when she was exactly her age. “You may have a point,” I concede.
She winks a triumphant green eye at me, before stepping back and announcing to the children with a clap of her hands, “Looks like Jeffrey and Evangeline have decided to join us at the pool ’til dinner.”
Evangeline looks up at me, so hopeful. With a resigned sigh, I wave her off. “Go ahead but stay by the pool where we can see you, and no more kissing.” My eyes narrow at the boy whose cheeks redden.
“Yes, sir,” he nods, grabs my daughter’s hand, and the two of them scramble off to the other end of the pool.
“Good job, Daddy,” she clamps me on the lower back. “Why don’t you scowl at the children from that chair right there?” She points to the one on the other side of the little table that houses her drink, rather than the one right beside her. Holding up her frozen concoction, she swirls it in the air. “Phil makes a mean strawberry daiquiri.”
“This is a family vacation. I don’t drink when I’m with my girls.”
Her tiny shoulders shrug, and she gives me a sympathetic smile. “Sucks to be you.”
Reluctantly, I plant my ass in the lounger, with every intention of stewing in silence, but that intrusive little blonde has other ideas.
“So, Jeffrey,” she says after sipping from her fruity drink. “What do you like to do for fun?”
Is she serious right now? “Look, Gina, don’t feel like you need to make small talk, okay? I’m perfectly fine to just sit here and keep watch.”
“Fine,” she pouts. Actually pouts—like a child. I can’t believe someone entrusted this tart with the well-being of her children.
“Well, that’s boring.”
“I like boring,” I assure her, trying not to stare as she reapplies tanning oil to her perky little breasts, humming along to the music that’s blaring from the speakers surrounding the deck. My dick stirs. I’m attracted to her, and that’s pissing me off too.
“I must say that I’m surprised, Jeff. You don’t look like a stiff.” Her eyes meet mine, issuing a challenge.
Why won’t this chick just leave me alone? “Trust me,” I say, glaring in her direction. “I’m stiff.” Much to my dismay.
“So that’s your problem.” She nods her head as if she’s just figured me all out. She has no fucking clue. “Been a while?”
“Forward much?”
Again, she shrugs. “It’s the therapist in me. I’m psychoanalyzing you. Does that bother you, Jeffrey?”
“You bother me.”
“I can tell.” This girl actually has the audacity to look to my lap. My dick twitches, hardening beneath her gaze.
Gina’s lips curl into a knowing smile. “You’re not my usual type, but I must say you’ve piqued my interest. How long’s it been?”
“Are you seriously asking that question to a complete stranger?”
“Why not? We’re adults. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?”
She’s got to be fucking with me. “You’re something else, you know that?” I ask, laughing her off.
“I’ve been told,” Tink agrees as she begins flailing her hand in the air at the cabana boy. “Bring me another, Phil?”
His head bobs, and he shoots her a thumbs-up from across the deck.
Gina flashes a blinding white smile, blowing him a kiss before spinning back around in her chair to face me. “You said you were here with your daughters…How many?”
“Two,” I answer, clearing my throat. “Evangeline, who you’ve met, is fourteen. And the little one, Willow, is three.”
“Must be hard, running a company and raising two kids on your own.”
Does she have no boundaries? “I manage.”
I’m caught off guard when she reaches out, patting the top of my left hand where it’s resting on the arm of my chair. “You should know you’re doing a good job.”
“You don’t even know me,” I rasp, both shocked by her nerve and at how relieved I am to hear those words.
The therapist in her must be able to read the doubt in my features. “A bad father wouldn’t go after some boy for daring to kiss his baby…Or worry about drinking around his kids.” She nods, mostly to herself.
Well, this got uncomfortable really quickly—not that a moment of this conversation has been remotely comfortable. “So, uh. You have any kids, Tink?”
I think I see a hint of sadness in her eyes, but it’s gone so quickly that I could’ve imagined it altogether. “Nope,” she answers, popping the p. “Just me.”
“Husband or a boyfriend?” What is wrong with me? I don’t actually care about any of this.
“Now who’s being forward?” she asks, arching her brow. “No hubby and no boyfriend.” Her tongue darts out to wet her lips as her eyes give me a thorough once-over. “I’m enjoying the single life entirely too much…I just borrow my bestie’s kids and give ’em back when I’ve had my fill.”
“That’s probably for the best…You don’t really strike me as the mothering type.”
“Well, then. Maybe the man upstairs knew just what he was doing when he dealt me a bunch of faulty equipment.”
