I stand and smooth out my sweater, trying to steady myself. "I should get going," I say, but I don't move right away. Neither does he.
Grant nods, but his jaw tightens just slightly. "I'll walk you out."
Hazel groans. "Do you have to go?"
I lean down and press a quick kiss to the top of her head. "You need to get some rest for tomorrow. Big day."
She sighs but hugs me tight before bouncing to the stairs and up to her room.
Grant follows me to the back door, and when I turn to face him, he steps closer, backing me against the door, his body almost touching mine.
The silence stretches, thick with the weight of everything we aren't saying. My pulse pounds as his gaze drops—to my mouth, to my throat, then lower. His fingers lift to tracea line up my arm, and for a second, I think he's going to close the distance between us. My breath catches as he exhales, and the faintest hint of restraint flickers over his features.
I should go, break whatever spell we've fallen under, but I don't. Instead, my hand shifts slightly, brushing against his waist. The contact is barely there, a whisper, but it's enough. A spark ignites, slow and smoldering, curling low in my stomach.
His fingers skim my jawline, and then he sweeps his thumb over my bottom lip. My heartbeat stumbles, and my panties are soaked.
"This fucking mouth. I dream of it."
His jaw tightens like he's battling the same war inside himself that I am. His other hand lifts—just slightly, just enough that I wonder if he's about to touch me.
"Ready, Dad!" Hazel shouts from upstairs, breaking the moment between us.
He grabs my hand, which is resting on his waist, and lifts it to his lips before dropping it and backing away.
"Goodnight, Sophia."
"Goodnight, Grant." My voice is soft, and my fingers tighten slightly around the strap of my bag like I need something to ground me. "See you tomorrow."
He nods. "Yeah. Tomorrow."
I force myself to walk away, but my body protests every step. I feel the weight of his gaze on me. When I hear the door close behind me, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, but it does nothing to cool the fire still smoldering between us.
twenty-six
. . .
Grant
I leanagainst my office doorframe, still processing the evening. When I put Hazel to bed just now, she couldn't stop talking about how Sophia helped her with her audition piece. The way Sophia is patiently working with Hazel for her audition, you'd think she belonged here.
The memory of our moment at the back door makes my pulse quicken. Sophia looking up at me with those ice-blue eyes, my fingers tracing up her body, her hand on my waist, both of us breathing harder just from standing close. If Hazel hadn't called out… I shake the thought from my mind and head to my desk. There's still work to do, even if my mind keeps drifting to the way Sophia's lips parted when I leaned in.
Movement outside catches my eye. Through the wall of windows in my home office, I spot a flash of blue disappearing beneath the surface of the pool. Sophia. My pulse races as I watch her glide underwater with graceful strokes,her dark hair streaming behind her like silk ribbons in the moonlight.
She breaks the surface and pushes her hair back from her face. Water droplets cascade down her shoulders, gleaming silver in the pool lights. The tiny blue bikini she's wearing leaves nothing to the imagination. The top barely contains her small round breasts, and her hard nipples poke against the material. The bottoms ride high on her hips, showing off the curve of her ass as she stands up out of the water. Wet fabric clings to every curve like a second skin, and my mouth goes dry at the sight of water trailing down between her breasts. The sight of her like this is a threat to my self-control.
I should look away. Get back to work.
This is exactly what I was afraid of when I offered her the guest house. The temptation. I told myself it was a practical solution. She needed a place to stay while her house underwent repairs and the guest house was sitting empty. But now, watching her through the window like some pervert, I'm forced to admit that maybe I had other motivations.
After reading the same email three times without absorbing a word, I admit defeat. Maybe a swim would clear my head. I close my laptop with more force than necessary and head to my bedroom, trying to ignore the way my heart is already racing at the thought of joining her. I change quickly into board shorts, my dick already growing hard at the thought of her wet body against mine.
The warm night air hits my skin as I step outside. Sophia's doing lazy backstroke laps, but she stops when she hears the door close behind me. Water streams down her face as she rights herself, and I can't help but stare at the way herpractically transparent bikini clings to her tits, with the outline of her nipples visible in the pool lights.
"Hey." Her face lights up with that smile that never fails to make my stomach flip. She moves to the edge of the pool and rests her arms on the concrete. "Your pool was calling my name. I couldn't resist."
"It does have that effect on people." I hesitate at the pool's edge, suddenly self-conscious. This feels too intimate. Maybe I didn't think this through.
