I try—heaven above I try—not to stare at him like I’ve never seen a naked man before, but good lord the man is just too pretty not to look at. He shoves one hand up through the sweat-dampened hair at his brow, his fingers raking through it and shoving it back as he grins. That wide, white smile is like a balm to my soul after not seeing it for two weeks, and his eyes crinkle at the corners.
“Hey,” he says, stopping several feet from me. His facial hair is scruffy and thicker than usual, but it only adds to that ultra-masculine, lumberjack look he’s got going on. The butterflies in my stomach are loving it.
“Hey, yourself,” I murmur, smiling back at him despite myself, taking in all of him. I can’t help but notice the deep circles beneath his eyes. When was the last time he slept? “When did you get back?”
“A couple hours ago.” His eyes drop to the overnight bag in my hand. “Can I take that for you?”
I narrow my eyes at him, forcing myself to keep my eyes on his and not letting my gaze travel over every naked inch of him that’s close enough for me to touch. He’s got muscles on top of muscles, and my fingers are screaming at me to touch, to let the tips of my fingers trail between the grooves of his abs. I want to take a bite out of his biceps like they’re big, juicy apples.
Good grief.Down, kitty.
Shaking my head to clear it, I murmur slowly, “You’ve been gone working for two weeks and before you even go inside to sleep, you mowed my lawn.”
He glances over his shoulder at the lawn that is nowcompletely mowed, then turns back to me, a smirk tilting up one corner of his mouth. Dammit, those eyes of his are my undoing. I’m powerless under that stare.
“Uhh, yeah? What does that have to do with me offering to carry your bag?”
“Xander…” I scold lightly, shaking my head again.
“Teddy,” he counters in the same tone, stepping slightly closer.
I have to tilt my chin up to remain staring at his face and not at that magnificent body that’s now even closer to me. All I have to do is reach my hands up and I could run my palms all over?—
“Did you have a good girl’s night?” he asks softly, hauling me out of my slightly pornographic daydream. I blush scarlet. What is it about this man that just makes me lose all ability to think rationally?
“Uhhh,” I mumble, my brain trying to play catch up. Xander reaches a hand out to me and I’m so addled, I don’t protest when he takes my bag off my shoulder. He just dazzles me completely. It’s not fair. “Yes. I’m a little hungover, but it was a lot of fun.”
“I’m glad you got to have a little time for yourself,” he murmurs, lifting the bag to his own shoulder and turning us toward the townhouse. “You deserve it, Mama.”
I can’t help the involuntary gasp at that huskily whispered word, nor can I stop the sharp intake of breath when the heat of his palm at the small of my back registers. It’s like a branding iron, searing me. I don’t even remember the last time I had a man’s hands on me, even just as simple as something like this. It’s… oh god.
“Teddy, if you keep making that sound, I’m going to embarrass myself in front of your in-laws,” he whispers roughly, leaning closer so his breath fans against my ear.Holy shit. “And I rather like them, so I’d like to not make this awkward if possible. But I can’t do that if I’m sporting a boner in my gym shorts.”
The shocked laugh that escapes me at his boldness is more of a snort than a laugh. My hand flies over my mouth as I stare up at him in horror at the sound that I just made. It’s like it’s literally impossible for me to not embarrass myself to the very depths of my being whenever I’m around this man. And what he’d just said…
His chuckle is deep and low as we make our way toward the front door, and I’m painfully aware of his hand still riding low on my back, just above the slope of my ass.
Those fingers spread wide over my back, as if flexing, and then he squeezes gently. “And before you start second guessing what I just said; yes, I fucking meant it, beautiful.”
I swear my face is flaming eight shades of red as Colleen chooses that moment to open the door, Penny on her hip. “Oh, hello my sweet girl! I thought I heard you pull in. Bea’s down for her morning nap, and Grampa has Dalton down at the creek looking for crayfish. Xander, that lawn looks amazing! You must be parched, look at you sweating up a storm. Come on in, let me fetch you a drink to cool down.”
“Sure, let me just go grab my t-shirt.” He sets my bag down just inside the door, then dazzles my mother-in-law with a smile before jogging back down off the porch, to where he’s tossed his t-shirt aside. My eyes are glued to his body as he shoves his arms and head through the holes in the shirt—sleeves cut off, as usual—and then he’s jogging back over to us. I can’t take my eyes off of him. Colleen ushers us all inside and closes the door behind us.
Colleen sets Penny down on the ground and my toddler launches herself at Xander, who catches her and lifts her up into his arms. She cackles shrilly, sliding her hands over his shoulders which are still damp with sweat, and then she fingers his hair. “Ewwww! You’re all sweddy!”
His laugh is genuine as he stares at my toddler. He shakes his head at her, making her laugh harder.
Tearing my eyes away from them, I turn to grab my bag from beside the door, if for no other reason than to give my hands something to do. This is the first time Xander has been inside my house since that day he’d brought me the sandwich after Bea was born.
Straightening, I turn back, just to find Colleen eyeing me knowingly. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, I put on my best smile. “I’m just going to drop this in the bedroom.”
“Mmhmm,” she murmurs, her mouth quirking just the slightest with a hidden smile.
I pass by her, Xander, and Penny, slipping down the hallway. Dropping my bag inside the closet, I rush over to the full-length mirror that’s propped into one corner of the room, running my hands over the brightly colored biker shorts that are clinging to my thighs. I wiggle my toes in my flip flops, the new coat of polish on my freshly manicured feet after last night. My shirt is hanging off one shoulder, showing off the light tan there. Reaching up, I rewind my hair up into the claw clip on the back of my head, fanning out the strands so that they layjust so. Then I rush into the bathroom to give my lashes another couple swipes of mascara and add a touch of blush to the apples of my cheeks.
Exiting the bathroom, I skid to a halt and backtrack, reaching into the cabinet for an almost empty perfume roller. I slide it along my collarbones and then at my wrists. I cap it, placing it back in the cabinet before my eyes drop to the flash of silver on the finger of my left hand.
Dropping my face into trembling hands, the shock of cool metal against my heated cheeks sends guilt crashing through me.What am I even doing? Primping for a man with my wedding ring to another man on my finger? With my dead husband's parents right here? What is wrong with me?
