Four Seconds to Lose (Ten Tiny Breaths #3)(79)

He must feel the hard swallow in my throat as I try to calm myself. What is he doing? Does he want everyone to know that we slept together last night?

Or . . . are we a thing now?

“Sorry to be rude, but the spawn demands food,” Storm murmurs, not waiting to load a plate for herself. “Ladies, help yourselves before those rabid men come out. They forget their manners sometimes.” Cain makes a point of pulling my chair out as I stand, his hands giving my waist an affectionate squeeze as I pass by, sending a thrill through my stomach. Storm happens to glance over her shoulder at that precise moment to catch Cain’s hand on me and a sly smile touches her lips. I’m happy to see it’s not a venom-laced sneer, like the one I’d expect from China.

Still, I wonder if they ever slept together. I wonder if he’d tell me the truth, if I asked. I wonder if I even want to know the truth. The idea of Cain with another woman—or women—makes me grit my teeth.

I just make it back to the table with a plate of food when the processional of large men files through the door. Cain’s hands once again finds my bare skin, his thumb rubbing up and down my spine, giving a light tug at the string on my bikini top, as if ready to untie it, as he pushes my chair in all the way. If I focus intently enough, I can still feel him inside me. I really shouldn’t think about that right now.

I didn’t expect this. I didn’t expect him to be so open about whatever is between us.

I didn’t expect to want it so badly.

My heart skips a beat as he takes a seat next to me, instead of at the outdoor sectional couch where Nate’s already making himself comfortable. Leaning in, his mouth grazes over my ear as he whispers, “Sorry, but after last night, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.” It sends a shiver through me. “I hope you’re okay with that.”

By the smirk touching his face, he damn well knows I am more than okay with it. By the glance down at my bikini top, no doubt noticing the two tiny protruding bumps, he can now see proof of it, too.

I sit quietly as he pours a glass of water for me. “Tell me if you want something stronger and I’ll get it from the bar for you, okay?” I nod but say nothing. Cain doting on me hits me deep in the chest, in an emotional wave that’s both soothing and crippling.

“You serving women today, Cain?” Ginger calls out with an impish grin as she slaps Ben’s muscular ass and cuts in front of him to load her plate. “Or just the one you’re trying to impress?”

“He can be a smooth f**ker if he wants to—” Ben’s mutter is cut off with a sharp elbow to his gut from Ginger and a bark of “language!” from Storm. Ben’s eyes instantly flash to the eight-year-old quietly hanging onto our every word from her seat next to Nate. He winces an apology to Storm.

“Here. Keep quiet.” As if to prevent anything more from coming out of Ben’s mouth, Ginger shoves three carrot sticks into it. He grins lasciviously at her but doesn’t utter another word, busy chomping down like a horse.

“So, Charlie . . . Ginger told me you were a gymnast?” Storm says.

I nod slowly, wondering what else Ginger and Storm have talked about that involves me.

“You should come by my acrobatics school. I’ll be looking for a part-time coach soon, given . . .” A manicured index finger points toward her waist as she spoons some pasta salad into her mouth.

“Oh . . .” I feel my brow knit tightly. “I don’t know the first thing about acrobatics.”

She waves a dismissive hand as she chews and swallows. “These kids need to keep up with basic fundamentals as well. I’ll bet you’d be good with those. And I’d pay you, of course.”

“Well, thank you for the offer,” I respond, not sure what else to say. I’m not going to be here long enough to take her offer seriously, but it’s nice of her to offer me a job. It makes me sick to think what she would say if she knew what I’m involved in. She certainly wouldn’t want me within a thousand feet of her school and those kids.

“Poaching my employees, are we?” Cain remarks with a crooked grin.

Storm shrugs, throwing her own devilish smile his way. “I just figured you wouldn’t want her on the stage anymore, now that . . .” Her eyebrows arch suggestively.

“Charlie won’t be going back on the stage. At all.” The answer is quick, firm, and without room for argument, I’m sensing. Not that I would argue.

At all?

A hand gently settles on my knee beneath the table, giving me a gentle squeeze before sliding up my thigh. Not too far. Just enough to remind me of last night. Thank God there’s a colorful tablecloth hiding my wanton display as my legs part instinctively, earning a tighter squeeze and a slow hiss from between his teeth. I wonder if that’s why he pushed my chair in so far.

Good God, does Cain think I’m into the public stuff? I mean, I was stripping for him . . . in public. Last night we had sex . . . in a public place, though it was deserted and dark.

My legs impulsively squeeze back together as a trickle of sweat—and not from the oppressive heat—rolls down the back of my neck. Cain doesn’t move his hand. From the corner of my eye, I catch that almost imperceptible and downright sexy smile of his. Sexy enough to make me relax against his hand once again.

“So, Trent, I forgot to tell you that Charlie has your old apartment,” Storm says loudly enough to be heard by the others, throwing a wink in my direction.