Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

E mmerleigh

"What a beautiful fish!" I exclaimed, the ache in my muscles washing away entirely in Georgia's excited presence.

Warrick put a bouquet of flowers in water and placed it on the dining room table while Georgia danced around the cooler. I kept glancing at Warrick, but he busied himself in the kitchen. He said he already defrosted one of the casseroles a neighbor had dropped by after his dad died, so it was easy to pop it in the oven and fix a salad while Georgia told me all about their fishing expedition. What I couldn't figure out was why it had taken a man completely unrelated to us to give Georgia flowers and take her on a fishing date. Warrick, someone I'd just met a month ago, was more of a father than Cayden had ever been.

"And then the line tugged and Wa-wy helped me…" She trailed off, calling over to Warrick. "What's it again?"

"We reeled it in."

"Yeah! We reeled it in! And there was the fish!" Georgia pointed to the tiny fish in the cooler of ice. I wasn't much of a fisherman, but I thought you'd normally toss something that small back in the water, but for her first catch, I was glad Warrick had come home with the evidence.

"I am so proud of you," I murmured, kissing Georgia on the cheek and crushing her to my chest. "But you stink like worms and fish."

Georgia giggled, not at all offended. Warrick looked over from the kitchen counter where he tossed a salad, smiling. "Looks like I have a new fishing buddy."

My daughter beamed at him. My little girlie-girl was finding a new side of her because of Warrick. My eyes burned, watching the two of them together. The flowers, the fishing, the clear bond the two already had.

"Go wash your hands for dinner." I helped Georgia off the chair where she'd been perched. She skipped out of the room, humming the song that was playing on the radio that Pip had left on after she finished up for the day.

I headed for the kitchen, sidling up to Warrick and laying my hand on his back. He stilled. "Thank you for taking her fishing. And the flowers." I shook my head, determined not to cry. "I want to give her everything, but I hadn't realized I'd dropped the ball."

Warrick moved then, dropping the salad tongs into the bowl and pulling me into his arms. His eyes had heated but he frowned down at me. "You didn't drop the ball, Em. You're one person. I just wanted to give her the same experiences my dad gave us boys. Thank you for trusting her with me." His eyes darted back and forth, clearly seeing the tears in my eyes when his face went soft. He swayed us back and forth. "How about you dance with me before dinner, wife?"

I dropped my head to his chest with a scoff, needing a second to get my shit together before I blubbered all over him for being kind to my daughter. I knew he was just trying to distract me and even that sweet gesture made my eyes sting more .

"That's not how you dance!" came Georgia's high-pitched voice, followed by a giggle.

I lurched backward, out of Warrick's embrace. "Oh yeah? How do you dance, then?" My heart was pounding and my voice sounded out of breath, but then again, I'd never had my daughter catch me in a man's embrace. I wasn't sure how she'd handle it, but based on the way she walked right up to Warrick and held her arms in the air, I'd say she wasn't traumatized.

"Climb on my feet, Peaches," Warrick rumbled, not nearly as off-kilter as I was.

Georgia put one bare foot on each of his snakeskin boots and the two joined hands, dancing wildly around the kitchen while Georgia giggled her head off. The scene imprinted itself in my brain. I'd never seen anything sexier than a smiling, handsome, middle-aged man dancing around the kitchen while making my daughter smile like that. If my heart hadn't become brittle and broken after Cayden, it would have pumped out a fast rhythm in time with their dance moves. It would have fallen for Warrick Wolfe.

Thankfully, I'd gotten good at building walls around my heart.

"Shall we eat?" I said brightly, grabbing the potholders off the counter and getting the casserole safely out of the oven.

Georgia cheered and Warrick grabbed the salad bowl, following me into the dining room. Before I claimed a seat, Warrick came up behind me and whispered in my ear. "One day you'll trust me enough to dance right there in the kitchen too, Emmerleigh. Mark my words."

I ignored the shiver that raced up my back or the way my cheeks heated at his promise. After last night, everything he said reminded me of the way he'd kissed me. The way his tongue and fingers had obliterated all the objections I had about getting involved with a man. The way I still craved his touch.

We all sat and ate until we were stuffed. Georgia and Warrick kept up the conversation, while I wrestled with my traitorous body. Maybe my vow to stay far, far away from men had backfired. Perhaps I'd gone about this all wrong. It was natural to crave human touch, and after over five years of literally none of it, it was perfectly normal that I'd fallen right into Warrick's arms. He was more handsome than the devil, after all. And was an expert around a woman's body. Maybe I simply needed to guard my heart while I let my body indulge in carnal pleasure.

"Em?" Warrick's voice interrupted my musings.

"Huh?" I blinked, trying to refocus on the conversation.

"Georgia and I were talking about going to the Blueball Summer Crawl this weekend."

"What's that?" I looked over at Georgia's plate, where she was done eating and smashing the rest of the casserole with her fork. I had about two minutes before food ended up on the floor or in her hair, guaranteed.

"It's a fun family festival. Rides, games, food trucks. Everyone goes. I haven't been since I was a kid, but I saw some signs up for it in town. Figured we'd go, if you don't have objections." Warrick sat back in his chair, a twinkle in his eye. "Not that I'd ever dare to tell you what to do with your business, but it seems like a great way to meet people and let them know what you do for a living."

I smiled wryly at him. I wasn't going to touch that subject tonight. I figured going at least one night without instigating a fight was a good idea. Just to know I could.

"Sounds like a lovely idea." I turned to Georgia. "Now let's get you in the bath, young fisherlady."

Warrick cleaned up dinner while I bathed Georgia. After I read her a story and got her tucked into bed, he was waiting for me in the hallway. I closed her door carefully and tiptoed over to him.

"What are you doing out here?" I whispered.

He tipped his head toward the bathroom down the hall. "Got your bath ready. Your pajamas are on the sink. I'm going to head out to this amazing screened-in porch my contractor built and have a beer, if you want to join me after."

I put my hand on his arm and squeezed. "As long as it's not that German beer Pip drinks. Or lemon drops. I can't look at another one of those so soon."

Warrick crossed his eyes and made a face. "Never." Then he leaned down and kissed my forehead, a sweet move I was becoming addicted to. He walked off and left me with privacy for my bath. I took the time to shave half my body, caring about my naked appearance for the first time in years. I wasn't positive Warrick wanted to take things to another level—he'd shown incredible restraint last night—but if he did, I was going to be ready. I nearly had a panic attack just thinking about getting naked with a man again, but maybe I needed to get back on the horse to get over being bucked off.

"You're a tough-ass general contractor," I told my reflection in the mirror as I dried off and got my pajamas on. "You can sleep with a man and keep your heart locked away."

I didn't exactly feel tough, but I acknowledged how much I missed the feel of a man's embrace. The strong arms, the scent of sweat and soap, the feel of someone bigger and stronger holding you up. The delicious weight of a man's body on top of mine. When I gave myself one last look in the mirror before leaving the bathroom to find Warrick, my eyes looked drugged and my nipples were poking through the flimsy cotton of my tank top. I rolled my eyes at myself and left.

Warrick was indeed on the porch, sitting in an Adirondack chair with his chest bare and his feet up on a footstool. A single candle was burning inside a glass lantern, the light flickering off the back wall. He motioned for me to join him on the matching chair, where a beer waited for me. Condensation already dripped down the side of the bottle from the summer heat, pooling on the end table. He looked like a GQ model in his dark blue pajama pants. Like a strong jungle cat splayed out, yet ready to pounce at a moment's notice. I sat and took a long pull of the beer, perhaps for liquid courage, as I looked out at the dark trees in the distance.

I'd only been with one man in my life. I wasn't even sure if I knew how to flirt. I certainly didn't know how to proposition my fake husband. Nothing in my life experience had prepared me for this situation.

"Something bothering you? You seem quiet tonight."

I looked over at Warrick, who genuinely looked concerned. My fingers twisted my wedding band around and around my finger. I shook my head and took another sip of beer, wishing my throat wouldn't keep closing around the words I wanted to say.

Warrick sat up, leaning closer. "Hey, everything okay after last night? I thought maybe, well, I wasn't too rough with you?" He ran a hand through his thick hair, sounding disgusted with himself. "I shouldn't have done that in a barn."

"No," I said quickly, leaning forward and putting a hand on his arm. "No. I…quite liked that."

Warrick didn't say a damn thing, but the air around us changed instantly. Electricity snapped and his eyes practically smoldered in the candlelight.

I swallowed hard and put the beer down on the table. I stood on shaky legs and forced my limbs to move. Warrick opened his mouth and reached for me, as if he thought I was getting up to leave. See? I sucked at seduction. Before I could talk myself out of it, I put one foot up on the chair right by his hip and sat on his lap, straddling him. My arms came around his neck, our faces now just an inch apart.

He held his hands out to the side, not touching me. His eyes had gone wide but his chest was pumping air in and out rapidly. I licked my lips and his gaze followed the action. I wanted to say something smooth and sexy, but not one word came to my brain, so I went with action instead. I leaned in further, bridging the gap, and laid my lips upon his. The barest of contacts, just a whisper of lips, and then his hands clamped down on my hips, pulling me into him with bruising intensity. Warrick groaned and took over the kiss, putting me out of my misery. His tongue plundered my mouth, so thorough and brazen, I merely hung on to his neck and tried to keep pace. His hands were everywhere, molding me to his chest, the erection beneath me growing to an impossible length.

He broke away, both of us heaving breaths. His forehead kept pressed to mine, his eyes finally opening to shock me with their intensity. "Emmerleigh, if you have no intentions of taking this further, I'm going to need you to get off my lap. Tell me no and push me away. Right now."

I sucked in a deep breath and shook my head, our foreheads lolling against each other. And then I took his lower lip between my teeth and bit down. He roared his approval and stood so fast it made me dizzy. He kept me pressed against him, my legs wrapping around his waist. He kicked the footstool and cursed but turned us, managing to get the sliding glass door open. A wall of air-conditioned air did nothing to put out the fire between us. With tongues and teeth and lips clashing in desperation, he got us inside the house and angled toward his room. I'd only been in it once, that first day he showed me the house and I wrote up an estimate. I vaguely registered that the dark gray room smelled like his aftershave, woodsy, clean, manly.

He laid me back on his bed, leaning down to cover me, aligned in all the right places. My eyes fluttered shut at the exquisite feel of all those muscles pressing me into the sheets. His mouth left mine to travel down my throat. His grunts and moans made me feel like a supermodel, not some single mom with stretch marks and worry lines.

Warrick lifted his head to gaze at me. "You have no idea how hard it was to undress you last night and not touch you the way I wanted."

My fingers fiddled with the hair on the back of his neck. "Show me how hard."

His head dropped. His arms were flexed and quivering as he held himself above me. When his head came back up, his jaw was clenched tight. "Baby, I know you like to be in control. I respect that. But right now, in this bed, I need you to trust me. I need you to give up control to me. Can you do that?"

I bit my lip, feeling both turned on and afraid. Not of what he'd do to me. Instinct told me he'd make it good for me or die trying.

I was afraid of all the places he could reach if I let him.

But this was just sex. Just two people who respected each other indulging in pleasure for a temporary time period. I could scratch the itch and go another five years with just me and Georgia against the world. I'd be a fool not to take advantage of the opportunity that had presented itself.

I let my fingers relax and let go of his neck. With my arms stretched out wide on the bed, I nodded. "I trust you. Do your worst, Wolfe."

His satisfied grin was the thing of legends. The rumble of his approval and the filthy things he whispered in my ears became the soundtrack of my night as I let myself get lost.