his fingers with mine. “It means more to her—to us—than you could ever know.”
“Of course.” He smiles down at me, setting off a swarm of fireflies in my tummy. “I love being with you guys.”
“Me too,” I say, because I’m an idiot. “With you, I mean. We love being with you.”
The soft rumble of laughter that follows heats my blood. “I know what you meant.”
The mood changes to something a little more PG when we meet up with my daughter at the set of lounge chairs she’s claimed. The girl has already removed her coverup and packed it away and has a pair of lopsided goggles affixed to her face.
I set my bag on the chair beside hers and slink out of my dress, nice and slow to give my man a little tease, knowing there’s not a damn thing he can do to act on it for a few days yet. His heated gaze as he ogles my red, ruffle-trimmed bikini tells me my efforts don’t go unnoticed.
“You are so wrong for that,” he rasps into my ear before reaching over his shoulder and gripping the back of his T-shirt with one hand. He has it over his head in one swift motion.
Saliva pools in my mouth. I don’t think I’ll ever get my fill of looking at him. His broad chest and tanned skin. The light ripple of definition dusted in a blonde happy trail that disappears beneath turquoise boardshorts.
“Are we gonna go in or are you two just gonna check out each other’s bathing suits all day?”
“Yeah,” I say, forcing my gaze away with a laugh. “Let’s go.”
The wave pool isn’t all that packed, probably because it’s still very early in the day. Not that I’m complaining. Prissy is having a blast swimming laps between wave sessions, and I’m not having any difficulty keeping her in my sight.
“She’s a fish,” I observe, still amazed by how fast she picked up on the skill.
Wyatt smiles tenderly, watching her with so much pride it momentarily steals my breath. He’s so easily slipping into a parental role with her—one I’m shocked that I’m not more reluctant to share. Their bond is effortless. I have to believe that if things ended up not working out between us, he’d remain a part of her life. I can’t allow my mind to think otherwise.
“Now we won’t have to worry about her drowning in the bayou.”
Comments like this one are why I’ll keep my fears and insecurities at bay and ride this train as far as it takes us. What man dates a woman for a few months and spends his time fretting over the safety of his home for her child? A damn good one.
“Y’all,” Prissy comes up, sputtering, swiping water from her face. “Look at that lady’s boobies.”
Wyatt’s eyes widen. Clearly, he hasn’t been privy to my child’s recent fixation with getting her boobs.
“What about ’em?” I ask, shoving her hand down. “You know better than to point at people.”
“I never saw some like that before.” With her palms rounded in front of her chest, she sways side to side as if she’s imagining them on her little body. “They’re really high. Almost in her chin!”
“Because they’re fake,” I whisper, this time shoving both of her hands down. “Stop doing that.”
But her mind only heard one portion of that conversation. “I know what I want for my birthday now.”
Wyatt’s choking on a laugh before she gets the words out. He knows as well as I do what ridiculousness is coming.
“Fake boobies.” She pokes out her chest doing a little shimmy.
I can’t with this child. “You can’t get fake ones til you’re grown. It’s a surgical implant…like a pacemaker,” I add when her brow crinkles. She loves to accompany my father to the crematory and watch him remove them before cremation. We have to, or they’ll explode.
“Fine,” she deflates. “My eighteenth birthday then.”
“We’ll see.”
“Ugh,” she growls. “That means no.”
I wink.
“What’s with the boob obsession?” Wyatt mutters close to my ear when the waves begin to roll in and my child’s focus shifts. “Just when I think she and I couldn’t have more in common,” he muses.
“I dunno,” I laugh. “She skipped the whole ‘all I want for Christmas is my two front teeth’ phase and went straight into wanting her very own set of boobies.”
“Speaking of,” he growls, fixing his hungry eyes on my tits. “Is that some kinda magic bikini top you got on there? The girls are lookin’ nice.”
“Definitely not,” I