But no. He’d demanded a paternity test, and honestly, I expected that since we’d only known each other five weeks. What I hadn’t expected was the venom that came with it.
He called me a gold digger, accused me of trying to trap him, and suggested I probably did this all the time. Like I was some kind of con artist who’d specifically targeted him.
As if those five weeks of late-night conversations and growing feelings had all been part of some calculated scheme. As if everything we’d shared meant absolutely nothing to him.
Still, watching Bella nestle deeper into his embrace, I can’t help the longing in my chest. Not just for him, but for a family. A partner to weather the tantrums and celebrate the victories.
I want this. God help me, I want all of it.
By evening, I’m wound tight. Every accidental touch, every shared glance, every time Enrick says my name in that low voice makes him harder to resist.
After dinner, I escape to the covered deck, needing air even if it’s freezing. The snow is still falling, leaving everything white.
The hot tub steams invitingly in the corner, and I stare at it longingly. A hot soak would work out all this tension.
The kids are settled with Gina for a Christmas movie. Maverick and Enrick are cleaning up the kitchen. I can have twenty minutes to myself without worrying about those blue eyes tracking my every move.
I head back inside and find one of my bikinis in my suitcase. It’s a strappy red thing I’d packed for the adults-only resort in Jamaica. The kind you wear when there are no kids around. I’d brought four, actually, each skimpier than the last. This red one is technically the most conservative of the bunch, which isn’t saying much.
I grab a thick robe and head back out, the cold air shocking my exposed skin. The hot tub is blissfully empty, and I sink into the water with a moan of pure pleasure.
“Oh, that’s perfect,” I mutter, letting the jets work on my tense shoulders.
I close my eyes and try not to think about Enrick. Try not to imagine what it would feel like to have his hands on me again. Try not to remember the way he used to—
The sliding door opens.
My heart kicks into overdrive, but I don’t open my eyes. Don’t turn around. My body recognizes his presence.
“Mind if I join you?” Enrick asks, and when I open my eyes, I immediately wish I hadn’t.
He’s wearing black swim trunks that ride low on his hips, and sweet baby Jesus, when did he get those abs? His chestis broader than I remember, with a dusting of dark hair that arrows down to—
“It’s not my hot tub.” I sink lower in the water.
He climbs in across from me, and I try not to watch the way his muscles flex with the movement. Try and fail spectacularly.
“Didn’t like the movie?” he asks, settling against the jets.
“I’m technically supposed to be kid-free right now,” I say, closing my eyes. “Figured I’d grab some me-time while Bella’s occupied.”
“Could be worse ways to spend your time off,” he says, and I hear the water shift as he settles in. “At least we have the sexual tension to keep things interesting.”
I open my eyes. “Excuse me?”
“Come on, Dez.” He leans forward, and the water ripples between us. His eyes drop to where my bikini top is visible just above the waterline. “We’ve been dancing around each other all day. It’s exhausting.”
“Then stop,” I suggest. “Stop looking at me like—”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re remembering what I look like naked,” I blurt out, then immediately want to drown myself.
His grin is pure sin. “Hard not to when you’re wearing that bikini. Red is your color.”
“I didn’t have a choice. It was this or skinny dipping.”
“Should have chosen skinny-dipping.” His voice has gone deep and rumbly.
