Birthday Girl(55)



Long legs in worn jeans with his T-shirt hanging out the back pocket and covering part of his…. I wet my lips as I tear my eyes off his behind and stare at the way his jeans hang off his hips.

Every muscle flexes as he chops branch after branch, and all I can manage is short, shallow breaths as I even admire the way his pant legs drape over his tan construction boots.

Mr. Lawson is hot. He’s able, strong-bodied, and I wonder how he feels. What is he like with a woman?

I drop my eyes again.

“Oh, that’s hot,” I hear a voice say.

I blink and jerk my head, looking behind me. Cam.

She stands next to the side of the island, having come through the front door without me hearing her. She has one forearm planted on the granite, leaning casually with an amused look on her face.

I turn back to my task, my heart hammering in my ears.

It’s bad enough to ogle someone not Cole, but it had to be her who caught me, too.

“I’ve never seen you look at Cole like that,” she says.

How long was she standing there?

I decide to nip it in the bud. “Like what?” I snap. “Stop trying to start shit.”

I hear her shuffle across the floor as she comes up to stand next to me at the sink. I cast a glance at Pike to see he’s still working, oblivious to us in the house.

“You both are getting pretty cozy here,” she teases, rinsing off the peeled potatoes and putting them in the pot. “He’s doing yard work. You’re cooking. It’s like you’re a couple.”

“Shut up. I’m young enough to be his daughter.”

“But you’re not his daughter,” she shoots back, turning toward me and leaning in. “You’re a hot, young piece of pussy living under his roof, and you know he’s thought about that. He may be Cole’s dad, but he’s also a man.” She turns back, looking out the window and checking him out. “And a fine, healthy-looking one, too.”

“I have a boyfriend. His son.”

That’s right, Jordan. That’s exactly what you should’ve told yourself when you were staring at him a minute ago.

But my sister just shrugs. “Even hotter.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “If you like him, go for it.”

“Nuh-uh.” Her lips curl playfully. “I’m all worked up about the fantasy now. I want my own boyfriend’s father.”

Uggggghhhh…my cheeks warm again.

“You’re sordid. And you don’t have a boyfriend,” I point out.

“Well, I should get one. One who has a hot dad.”

I shake my head. I’m not talking about this anymore. She’s convinced I was ogling, and she thrives on naughtiness. I’m not feeding her.

“Plus, you’re my sister,” she states. “I don’t want to make you jealous by hooking up with him.”

“Why would I be jealous?” I blurt out, finishing the last potato. “Seriously. I have a boyfriend. Who Pike Lawson screws is of no consequence to me. Go for it.”

Turning away, I wipe off my hands, veer around her, and grab the pot of water with potatoes and put it on the stove, starting the burner. Pork chops are marinating. Dough for the biscuits is sitting. I go through my mental checklist as quickly as I can to keep my mind occupied. And away from him.

He can see whomever he wants. This is his house.

“Well,” I hear Cam say. “If you’re okay with it then…”

I remain at the stove, pretending to check the burner, but my hand tightens on the knob, fear twisting my insides.

The next thing I hear is the back door slamming against the frame, and I jerk upright, seeing that she’s left the kitchen.

Son of a…

Walking back over to the sink, I peer out the window and see Cam heading across the lawn to where Pike is working. She tosses a look over her shoulder at me like she knows I’m watching. She smirks, and I scowl.

I wasn’t serious. The thought of her hands on him…his arms around her... I don’t want to see that. She’s my sister.

He senses her approach and looks down at her, turning off the tool, and I watch as he listens, probably wondering why she’s bugging him.

Maybe he’s wondering, that is.

My sister is hot, and not many men would refuse her if she set her sights on them. Maybe Pike’s attracted to her? He is a man, like she said.

And she’s older, has her own place, a car, and is rooted in this town for the time being. She’s still significantly younger than him, but she’s not a kid.

She’s not a ‘little girl’.

She crosses her arms over her chest, shuffling her feet a little, giving the impression of modesty, and I shake my head, because Cam is not modest. At all.

Just very good at reading people. She knows coming on too strong will freak him out.

After a moment, she touches his arm, and I barely breathe as I watch her bend her neck, inspecting his ink. Then, quickly, she straightens and lifts up her arm, showing him the huge black phoenix on the side of her torso.

He watches as she lifts up her white tank and bra straps, and my stomach sinks, expecting him to blush or look uncomfortable, because uncomfortable is Pike’s thing, but he doesn’t. Instead, he watches her as she talks animatedly, excited, and then suddenly, he smiles, his body shaking with a laugh at whatever she’s saying.

Penelope Douglas's Books