FOR A FEW SECONDS, I was so shocked, I couldn’t even kiss her back. I just stood there like I was made of stone—I didn’t even close my eyes.
Then she opened hers and pulled back, covering her mouth with her hands. “Oh my god.” Her words were muffled. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”
I couldn’t seem to find my voice. All I could hear was Xander in my head.
You’re a fucking idiot.
Veronica uncovered her mouth and flapped her hands at the wrist. “I don’t know what just came over me. I must have lost my mind. Please accept my apology.”
“It’s fine.” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. “It just surprised me. You were right about giving good hugs.”
Flustered, she began to ramble. “It’s been such a weird day, and I was feeling so overwhelmed, like I don’t have a handle on any of these things that a functioning adult should have a handle on, my own money or a job or a place to live. Everything is out of my control.”
I wanted to tell her it was okay and also ascertain if I could have another shot at getting my tongue in her mouth, but she kept talking and would not shut up.
“And then grief hit me all over again and I was out here crying and you were finally being nice to me after being such a meanie, and then I probably shouldn’t have put my hands on you but you have a really nice body and it sort of did things to me that I wasn’t expecting and haven’t felt for a really, really long time, and I thought you were going to kiss me and then you didn’t, so I took control of the situation and kissed you—but then it was obvious you didn’t want that, and—”
“Fuck it.” Without waiting for her to finish, I grabbed the back of her head and forced her to stop talking by covering her mouth with mine.
This time it was her turn to go still with shock, and I took advantage of her immobility by opening her lips with mine and stroking between them with my tongue. Recovering her senses, she moved her hands up my chest and clutched the front of my shirt while I devoured her mouth like a starving animal. When her tongue met mine, just as hungry and desperate, I slipped one arm around her lower back, pulling her body against me, lifting her onto her toes. Sliding one rough hand into her soft blond hair, I moved my mouth down her throat, catching the scent of her perfume, tasting it on her warm skin. She moaned, and the hum of it against my lips sent a lightning bolt straight to my cock.
I took my hand from her hair and slid it up her side, beneath her shirt, spreading my fingers over her ribcage. My thumb brushed the bottom curve of her breast, and when she looped her arms around my neck, I took it as permission to keep going, letting my thumb skim over the taut peak of her nipple. Goddamn, I wanted my mouth on it. My mind was wild with the thought of tearing our clothes off and getting inside her right here under the moon. Or we could go up to the garage apartment. Or I could invite her up to my bedroom.
My bedroom . . . with my kids right across the hall.
Fuck.
I released her from my arms and stepped back. “Jesus. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She stared at me, wide-eyed. Her pebbled nipples were visible through the thin white material of her T-shirt, and I cracked my knuckles, just to give my hands something to do.
“Well, I should go back inside. Check on the kids. If it’s too hot over the garage, you can turn on the window unit,” I said, because I was burning up. “It cools the place off pretty fast.”
“Okay.” She hesitated. “Thank you again for letting me stay. Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t.”
“No problem. Goodnight.” Anxious to get inside before I lost control and kissed her again, I headed for the back door, carefully skirting around her so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch.
“Night,” she called softly.
Upstairs, I checked on the kids—sound asleep—then slipped into my bedroom and closed the door. After yanking my shirt off, I couldn’t resist moving closer to the window and peering around the shade again.
The light was on in the garage apartment, and the shade on the window facing the house was up. She came over to the window and looked out.
I knew she couldn’t see me, but I still held my breath. For a second, the teenager in me hoped she might take off her shirt. Those tantalizing nipples poking through white cotton lingered in my mind. I could practically feel them between my fingertips, beneath my tongue.
But after a moment, she pulled down the shade, and the light went off.
I got into bed and lay on my back, overcome with the urge to slide my hand into my pants and work off the pent-up tension with a quick orgasm. My dick was so hard, and it would feel so good. I untied the drawstring and eased the waist below my hips, closing my fist around my cock.
Closing my eyes, I thought of her. I pictured her long, lithe body. I tasted her on my tongue. I inhaled the scent of her skin. I heard the soft, sweet moan escape her lips. I felt her hands on my back.
I imagined what it might have been like if our circumstances were different. If I’d had the house to myself tonight. If she were in bed with me right now. Naked. Panting. Greedy for my cock. Maybe she’d talk dirty to me, or like it when I said filthy things to her. Maybe she’d love the way I used my tongue on her clit, the way I made her come with my fingers. Maybe she’d get on her knees for me, let me fuck that gorgeous mouth. Maybe she’d beg me to fuck her. I could practically hear my name on her lips, smell the sex in the room, feel her pussy tighten around me as she whispered—yes, yes, yes . . .
Swallowing the groan that threatened to escape, I tightened my fist and jerked myself harder and faster, coming in quick, hot pulses that left a sticky mess on my stomach.
Jesus.
After my heartbeat quieted and my breathing returned to normal, I made my way into the bathroom to clean up. Two minutes later, I was back in bed, hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling.
Was she asleep? Was she thinking about me? I wondered if I’d made the right decision not to hire her, or if I’d dismissed the idea too quickly. Would it be so bad to have her around this summer?
Xander’s voice was still in my head.
You’re a fucking idiot.
The following morning, the first thing I did was reach for my phone and Google her. She didn’t appear to have social media accounts, which surprised me until I recalled Mabel telling me Veronica’s ex had made her delete them. I saw a couple articles related to being a Rockette—she’d been interviewed on different blogs or news media—but the item that caught my eye was a wedding announcement from a Chicago newspaper.
I clicked on it and held my breath as the photo popped up. She looked beautiful, sitting there in a chair in front of her fiancé, who stood with his hand on her shoulder, as if to keep her down. But she also looked kind of miserable. No smile, no light in her eyes, no sign of love or chemistry between them. She looked like a caged bird.
Setting my phone aside, I threw on some clothes and went downstairs, feeling torn about what to do.
I hadn’t slept great, so I was a little groggy as I sipped my first cup of coffee, looking out the kitchen window at the backyard. For a second, I thought my eyes were deceiving me—was Veronica lying on the lawn?
Squinting, I chugged more caffeine as she pressed her hands into the ground and peeled her upper body off the grass, her face lifting to the bright blue sky.
Fuck, she was doing yoga.
She wore a black sports bra and little black shorts that showed off her legs. Her blond hair sat in a nest on top of her head, and her feet were bare. I moved a little closer to the window.
She held that pose for a moment and then shifted into a new one, moving through a plank to an inverted V shape, her legs perfectly straight, her heels on the ground, her arms stretched out, and her head tucked between her biceps. I was mesmerized by the perfect lines her body created—especially her spine, which formed a gentle concave curve from her tailbone all the way to the back of her neck.
I was even more impressed when she extended one leg to the sky in a slow, dramatic arc. She held it there for a moment, toes pointed, legs split in a perfect straight line—a work of art. Then she brought her foot back to the ground and repeated the process with the other leg. I was so enthralled I didn’t even hear Adelaide come down the stairs.
“Dad?”
I spun around so fast my coffee sloshed over the side of the cup and went splat as it hit the floor.
Adelaide stood there in her pajamas looking at me strangely. “What are you doing?”
“Morning, June bug. Nothing.” I grabbed a paper towel and wiped up the spill. My heart was beating erratically, as if I’d been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.
“You were looking out the window at something.” She went over to the back door and peered out the glass. “It’s Veronica!”
“Addie, don’t—”
But it was too late, she’d already yanked open the back door and run outside. “Hi! What are you doing?”
Veronica came out of her pose and popped to her feet. I wondered what it would be like to have bones and muscles that moved so easily in the morning. I always felt stiff as a board for a couple hours. Although, I had to admit, my neck and shoulder seemed a little less tight than they had yesterday. Maybe the revenge massage had worked. Standing at the screen door, I glanced over at the fire pit, where we’d kissed last night. A hot spark zipped up my spine.
“I’m doing yoga,” Veronica said with a smile. “Want to join me?”
“I don’t know how to do yoga.” Adelaide folded her arms behind her back. “Can you teach me?”
“Of course! Come on. We’ll start with an easy one.” Veronica stood up tall. “This is called Mountain Pose. Stand like this with your big toes touching but not your heels.”
Adelaide turned her legs completely inward so she was pigeon-toed. “Like this?”
“Not quite so much space between your heels.” Veronica bent down and adjusted Adelaide’s feet. “There. Now stand nice and tall, feel the ground with all your toes, the balls of your feet, and your heels. Stretch your legs and pull your belly button in toward your spine.” She placed a hand on Adelaide’s stomach and tailbone. “Good, that’s really good.”
Adelaide beamed. “What should I do with my arms?”
“Like this.” Veronica stood opposite Adelaide, as if she was a mirror. “Palms forward toward me, and spread your fingers out. Good! Now you’re going to lengthen your neck. Roll those shoulders back—we want a nice broad chest for deep breaths. Imagine you’re wearing long, dangling earrings and you want to show them off.”
Adelaide’s neck did suddenly look longer.
“Perfect! You’re so good at this. Now imagine one straight line from the top of your head all the way down your spine.”
“I’m picturing a skeleton,” said Adelaide.
Veronica laughed. “That’s a good way to do it. I once had a dance teacher who had a plastic skeleton in the studio so she could show us what she wanted our bones to look like.”
“Am I doing it right?” Adelaide asked.
“Yes. Doesn’t it feel nice to stand so straight and tall?”
It did feel nice—I realized I’d unconsciously followed the last few instructions about rolling my shoulders back, broadening my chest, and lengthening my neck. Even my palms were facing the screen door.
“What are you doing, Dad?”
Caught off guard again, I turned around to find Owen standing there in his pajamas, hair matted on one side, expression curious.
“Nothing. Just watching your sister learn some yoga poses.” I went to the fridge and took out the almond milk, pouring a little in my second cup of coffee. “Are you hungry? I could make you a—”
But Owen was already racing out the back door.
“Good morning, Owen,” I heard her say cheerfully.
“Can I learn yoga too?” he asked.
“Of course. We’re just about to do cat-cow. First, you get down on the ground like this.”
Watching out the kitchen window, I groaned inwardly as Veronica got down on all fours. Her ass looked spectacular in those shorts.
“Okay, so for the cat, you want to make a rainbow with your back. Like this. Think about your belly button being sucked up toward the sky—the very top of the rainbow.” Her gorgeous spine went convex, and I could practically feel my hand gliding over each vertebra as I lined my hips up behind hers.
“Like this?” The kids imitated her pose, and I felt like a total pervert for fantasizing about having sex with her while she was giving my children a yoga lesson.
“You are a terrible person,” I muttered to myself. But I kept watching.
“Yes, but don’t forget about your head,” Veronica said patiently. “Let it be the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Drop it down.”
They followed her directions, and she nodded. “Perfect. Now the cow.”
This time I caught myself moaning out loud. But I couldn’t help it—now she was arching her back, which drew attention to her sumptuous apple-cheeked butt and curvy hips. I thought about kissing her in the dark last night, my hands in her hair, her fingers clawing my shirt like they’d claw at my sheets if I—
Don’t think about it.
She picked up her head. “Now think about your belly button lowering back down to the ground. Your back is making a sort of bowl shape. Good cows, you guys!”
“Moooooo,” said Owen.
“Daddy, come out here!” Adelaide called. “Come look at our cows!”
Shit. I wasn’t prepared to face her yet. I tried to think of a reason why I couldn’t go out there and couldn’t come up with anything except the fact that I felt an erection coming on. “Just a second!”
I took a couple deep breaths, forcing myself to think about mundane, unsexy things. When I was sure I could be seen without embarrassing myself, I ran a hand over my hair and went outside.
Veronica scrambled to her feet. “Morning.”
“Morning.” I was careful to keep my eyes where they belonged. “What’s going on out here?”
She glanced at the kids, who were still on their hands and knees. “I was just teaching them a few yoga poses.”
“This one is the cow,” said Owen.
“And this is the cat.” Adelaide rounded her back the way Veronica had shown her. “Try it, Daddy. It feels good.”
“Maybe another time. Are you guys ready for breakfast?”
“Can we go out for breakfast?” Owen asked.
“I guess we could. Where do you want to go?”
“Moe’s!” the twins shouted. That was their first choice for breakfast, lunch, or dinner, because they loved to play songs on the jukebox. I’d probably given them a hundred bucks’ worth of quarters for that thing over the years. But the food was good, the prices were reasonable, and Moe and his wife Judy were good people. After my mom died, Judy had stocked our freezer with enough casseroles to feed an army. Their daughter Ari was Mabel’s best friend.
“Okay,” I said. “Go get dressed.”
“Can you come too, Veronica?” Adelaide asked as she got to her feet.
Veronica smiled at my daughter. “Thanks, but I can’t.”
“Would you like to come to breakfast?” I asked her, knowing that she was probably hungry but had very little money. “Our treat.”
“Are you sure?” Her eyebrows rose.
“Consider it payment for the yoga lesson.”
She smiled, and the memory of kissing her hit me all over again. “Okay. I’ll come.”
“Yay!” Adelaide clapped her hands and jumped up and down. Even Owen looked excited as they raced each other into the house.
“Make your beds!” I yelled after them, which caused Veronica to giggle.
“What’s funny?” I asked.
“Yesterday, when you and Mabel were upstairs, and I was alone with the kids, they were giving me tips on how to get the nanny job, and one of them was to tell you I always make my bed.”
I shook my head. “And do you?”
“Pretty much never.”
“What else did they tell you?”
She shifted her weight to one hip and ticked things off on her fingers. “Let’s see. Don’t ever leave lights on, because you don’t own the electric company. Your favorite food is barbecue. And it would be good if I had some chore charts to show you, because you’re big on responsibility and organization.”
“Jesus,” I grumbled. “They didn’t make me sound like much fun, did they?”
A smile teased her lips. “Actually, you gave me that impression all on your own.”
I took another sip of coffee, glaring at her over the edge of the cup.
“But you redeemed yourself later,” she added.
Our eyes locked, and my body warmed instantly.
“And who knows?” Her pretty shoulders rose. “Maybe if I’d had a chart or two, I’d have gotten the job.”
“Veronica, I—”
“It’s okay,” she said, laughing again as she put a hand on my arm. “I’m just messing with you. You were right, Austin. I’m unqualified. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have done a good job, but I understand. I’m not what you’re looking for.”
Actually, right now I was afraid she was exactly what I was looking for.
“Could I have fifteen minutes to get ready for breakfast?” she asked. “I just want to rinse off really quick and change clothes.”
“Of course.” Don’t think about her in the shower. Don’t think about her in the shower. “Just knock on the back door when you’re ready.”
“Thanks.” She gave me one last smile before turning toward the garage.
I watched her walk away from me, imagining what my life would be like if I asked her to stay.
