Jayna the next Mrs. Clayton Walker.”
She dropped back onto the hammock as it all sank in. “And that’s why you left the company?”
Actually, no. But now he was getting into some dangerous territory. Telling her any more tonight, when she was feeling this emotional? Bad idea.
“More or less,” he said vaguely.
“What kind of relationship do you have with them?” she asked after a minute.
“My dad and Jayna? I’m not gonna lie. I can’t stand the sight of either one of them and I don’t feel like taking the high road.” Plus, Dad wasn’t even done ruining his life, trying to make himself look good and Clay look like a criminal. “I see my half-brother when my sister, Darcie, babysits him. I don’t do holidays or birthdays or happy family reunions. Jayna got what she wanted: a husband. And Dad got what he wanted.”
“A trophy wife?”
Dad got what belonged to Clay. “My dad’s a small-minded, jealous, insecure son of a bitch who resented everything I had because he didn’t have it.”
“That’s not very… fatherly.”
He snorted softly. “That fucker doesn’t know the first thing about being a father. Pardon my French, but he…” Brings out the worst.
“Sounds like he earned that.”
“He did.”
She didn’t say anything for a long time, the only sound the crickets in the trees and some traffic in the distance. Then, “So that’s why you want a no-strings-attached sexual relationship?”
“Honestly, Lacey?” He turned to her. “I don’t ever plan on putting myself in the line of fire again, no. I want to do my job really well and use my gifts. I want to fix my—build my own reputation in this business, make top dollar, and… avoid anything that tears you to shreds when it ends.” He looked hard at her. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy myself. It doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy each other, if you’re comfortable with that.”
“You know, five minutes before you arrived, I was swearing off sex and now you’re basically offering just that.”
Just that. “Dumb thing to swear off.” He kissed her nose, her eyes, and her mouth again, letting the hammock rock itself so he could use his free hand to trail a finger path down her neck and into the V of her top. “Damn, I thought about you all day.”
Color and goose bumps rose on her creamy skin. “What did you think?” she sounded as if she were afraid to ask.
“Well, I didn’t think you’d stand me up,” he said, faking a frown. “I thought I could get you to my apartment and we could watch your favorite movie from under the covers.”
Her eyes widened.
“And we could argue about how the wrong guy gets the girl,” he continued. “In between, we could…” His finger reached the rise of her abundant breast, and his mouth nearly followed. “Would you like that?”
She let out a shuddering sigh, rolling her body even closer to his. “Of course I’d like that, but we can’t.”
“That’s funny, Lacey. I could have sworn I heard you use the C-word.” He underscored the tease by dragging his finger lower, into the lace of her bra, and leaning forward to kiss the flesh of her cleavage.
“I might have.” The confession was buried in a sweet moan of helpless pleasure.
“You like that, too?” he asked, his body reacting as it had been all afternoon: on the brink of an erection.
“I do, but…”
“Sounds like someone needs some Excuse Juice.”
“No, I don’t. I need”—she stabbed her fingers into his hair, guiding his mouth lower—“this.”
“Told you.” He rolled so that he could press himself against her hip, hard enough now that she could feel exactly what her body was doing to his.
“Clay,” she said, easing away. “We really can’t. Not here, not now.”
“Okay.” He eased off the next kiss. “Your daughter’s coming home?”
“Well, yeah, but there’s someone—something—else. This afternoon—”
“Mom, where are you?” Ashley’s voice cut her off and they both bolted upright, making the hammock sway so hard they almost fell out.
Clay was still processing Lacey’s last words. Had she said there was someone else?
Lacey face was more panicked than he’d have expected, considering they weren’t doing anything.
“I’m out here,” she called as they got to their feet. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
The sliding door to the house opened and instead of the sandy-haired teenager he expected, a man walked out. Tall, dark, commanding, and instantly focused on Clay.
Yep. She’d said someone else. Damn it.
“Mom, did you start the cookies yet?” Now the teenager charged out, a