Ignite (Cloverleigh Farms #6)(21)

“What about in the shower at home?”

“Naomi, the girls’ mom, sometimes allows it to avoid a fight, but I don’t. That probably makes me the mean parent, but I believe in consistency, and the doctor said it’s better for her if we don’t allow the compulsive behavior.”

“Does the doctor think she’ll grow out of it?”

“Too hard to say right now, but it’s possible.” I hesitated, then went on. “Naomi thinks Hallie’s anxiety stems from worrying about me when I was gone.”

“I heard you were a SEAL. But not the kind at Sea World.”

“Not the kind at Sea World. They would have liked that much better.” I studied the label on my beer bottle, picking at the edge of it with my thumb. “I was gone a lot when they were tiny. Back-to-back tours.”

“But it’s not like you had a choice about that.”

“No, but the fact remains—I wasn’t there when either of them were born, and I missed a ton of milestones after that. I had to watch both of them take their first steps on video.” I paused. “I don’t regret my choices, but I feel bad about the things I missed.”

“And your ex blames Hallie’s anxiety on your absences?”

“She doesn’t exactly put it like that, but it’s pretty clear that’s the case.” I paused and added, “I think she blames a lot of things on my absences.”

She was silent at that, and I was embarrassed.

Why the hell was I telling Winnie about this? I never talked about this stuff with anyone, let alone a near-stranger. I was trying to think of a way to change the subject when Winnie gracefully moved the conversation in a different direction.

“Well, they seem like sweet, polite, adorable girls—when they’re not talking about my bum.” She brought her heels to the edge of her chair and wrapped her arms around her legs, setting her chin on her knees the way a kid would. “I hope they don’t give you too much grief about the swear jar.”

I harrumphed. “Too late for that. They already made one, although it’s more of a swear box.”

She laughed. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, they used the cupcake box. And they wrote on it. It says ‘Daddy’s swear box—money for future cat.’”

She burst out laughing, her head falling back, and I thought about putting my mouth on her throat. Did she wear perfume? What would her skin smell like? Quickly, I looked away and tipped up my beer again.

“So they want to get a cat?”

“Yeah, they’re always on me about getting a pet, and Hallie likes the idea of a cat because they’re supposedly clean animals. But my shifts at the fire station are twenty-four hours, so having a pet doesn’t really work.”

“I could help out,” she offered. “If you just let me know which days you work, I can come by and feed her or him. And I can tell you where to go to adopt one.”

“You’re not helping,” I told her in my best grumpy dad voice. “I don’t want a fucking cat.”

“Listen,” she said, dropping her feet to the ground and reaching for the cupcake. “I know what happens when little girls have their dad wrapped around their fingers. They get what they want.”

“Oh, really.” I watched her peel the wrapper from the cupcake, my eyes on her fingers. They were long and slender, and her nails were painted to match her toes in a bright, fiery red. The thought of that hand wrapped around my cock jumped into my head uninvited.

“Yes. My sisters and I always had our dad’s number.” She broke the cupcake in half, then sucked frosting off her thumb, which made my dick start to get hard.

“Maybe I’m not as nice as your dad.” I tried to sound menacing, but I was so fucking turned on it was difficult. “Maybe I’m better at saying no.”

She laughed like she knew better than I did. “Maybe. But even a Navy SEAL has some weaknesses.”

Blowjobs, I thought, watching her lick her fingers and imagining her tongue brushing across the tip of my cock.

“Here.” She pushed the plate with the cupcake on it toward me. “We can share.”

I wasn’t hungry, but I needed the distraction, so I picked up one of the halves and bit into it.

She picked up the other, and we ate in silence for a minute. I did my best to keep my eyes off her mouth, since I was struggling to keep my thoughts clean and felt like an asshole about it. When I was done, I wiped my hands on my pants.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, popping her last bite between her lips. “I should have brought us napkins. I’ll get some.”

“It’s okay. I should go.” We stood at the same time, putting us practically chest to chest.

She looked up at me and swallowed. Parted her lips.

Don’t do it, dickhead, I told myself.

But she was right—I did have weaknesses, and right now her mouth was at the top of the list.

Without another thought, I took her by the shoulders and crushed my lips to hers. She made a soft sound of surprise, and I felt her body lean into mine. She rose up on her toes, opening her mouth so I could taste her—a tantalizing combination of salty and sweet. She twined her arms around my neck, and I moved my hands down her back. Her tongue grazed mine.

Stop this right the fuck now, said a voice in my head.