The Single Dad (The Dalton Family #3)(49)

I took a long drink of my milk, wishing it were scotch. “I know one thing you can do …”

“What’s that?”

There were so many ways I could answer that. Replies that were much easier to say because liquor was running through my body.

But words I would regret the second I sobered up.

My mouth opened; I wasn’t sure I trusted what was going to come out of it.

And then the perfect response hit me.

“You can move in here.”

“A cure to the silence, huh? Fill it with Everly’s squeals.” She grinned.

I shifted my stance, considering another cupcake. “If you’re open to it.”

“I am.” As though she were inside my head, she placed a cupcake in front of me. “I would actually really like to move in.”

She was already here all the time.

Now, she would only be a quick walk across the garage.

Have I lost my fucking mind?

To keep her this close? This accessible? When all I can think about is being inside her?

Tasting her.

Licking her.

I swallowed, staring at the cupcake. “It’s good timing because I know we’ve talked about the business trip I have coming up. If you were living here, I wouldn’t have to worry about Everly shuffling from Dom’s place to Jenner’s. You could be with her the whole time I’m gone—as long as that works for you.”

“Of course.” She finished the rest of her milk. “It can be a test of sorts, and if things feel right for the both of us, then I’ll move the rest of my stuff in when you get back.” She glanced toward the garage. “Admittedly, I’ve never even seen the space. Would it be all right if I went and took a peek?”

I took a bite of the cupcake. “Now?”

“If that’s okay with you.”

I lifted the cupcake off the counter. “Come on. I’ll take you up.”

She followed me to the back door and into the garage, where my four vehicles were parked. On the far side was a set of steps, and after climbing them, I turned around to face her at the top.

“The door over there”—I pointed just below—“is where you’ll come and go whenever you want to leave. The code is the same as the front door. And like I said before, you’ll have full privacy.” I opened the door to the apartment and walked in, flipping on the light. “The kitchen is here.” I stood in the center. “Obviously, living room is over there.” I took my time moving between rooms. “Bedroom and bathroom are in the back.”

She stood only a pace away, looking at the walls and furniture. “Did you decorate yourself?”

I laughed. “Hell no.” There was only a bite of cupcake left, and I took it down, wishing I had brought my milk. “I used a decorator. The same one who did the main house.”

“Ford, it’s stunning.”

The colors in here were much different than in my place. The apartment was all white and tan, airy and light. The decorator had chosen the scheme intentionally, knowing I preferred a woman watching my daughter over a man.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Love it,” she said, our eyes connecting. “Not like.” Her stare moved to the ceiling, where beams ran across the entire length. “She thought of everything. Important accents that make this small space feel giant and these little touches that soften it.”

“Check out in here.” I walked to the bedroom door, turning on the light, and a chandelier over the bed set the whole room aglow.

“Wow.”

I turned toward her. “Cozy?”

“And, quite honestly, a little romantic.” She headed for the en suite, frozen in the doorway. “You put in a tub? Oh my God, look at the size of it.”

I chuckled.

The designer had promised that would be a huge selling point.

I wouldn’t know. I fucking hated baths.

But I could envision Sydney inside it.

Naked.

Bubbles all around her, floating over her body, her hair splayed out in the water.

“Is this a steam shower?”

I blinked.

Hard.

“Yes,” I replied. “And, listen, feel free to bring whatever you want when you move in. This is your place. Change it, move things around, whatever—just make it yours. I want you to feel comfortable.”

She came out of the bathroom and stopped a few feet away.

Close enough that I could smell the coconut.

The scent that haunted me.

That I couldn’t get enough of.

That I had licked off her skin.

“It’s perfect, Ford.”

Her neck tilted back, exposing her whole throat, and she turned in a circle to do a final scan. As she moved, a swish of her shirt whipped across my arm, a cushion so velvety, like her fingers.

A memory immediately filled my head of what her hands had felt like.

The pressure she had used to touch me.

The way it had caused my dick to react.

Fuck.

Something was wrong with me, something that continuously made my brain go there.

But I knew better.

I knew how wrong it was.

This was just the booze talking, bringing me to a place I needed to stay far away from.

“I can definitely see myself living here,” she said once she stopped moving.