“Yeah. But I’m not some drafted hot shot.”
“Sure, but they wouldn’t keep you if you were bad.”
Harlan snorted. “Have you met the Rusties? They’re just cheap. I’m cheap.”
“You’re still in the show,” Liam said. “Anyway. I have early practice.”
He lifted himself up and out of the water, and I did the same, perching on the edge of the tub. “I’m getting hot.”
Liam sauntered over to get a towel and I turned to ask if Harlan wanted to stay in longer.
My words caught in my throat.
I was being watched. Surveyed. Studied. Water tugged at my soggy bikini. An hour before, I would have been mortified for him to see my body like this. Given our history, I’d be afraid he would pick at me somehow. But something about him being here, in my space, being real with my son, made me less afraid of his usual bullshit.
And this didn’t feel like his usual bullshit. Harlan’s gaze didn’t look critical. It was hungry.
Harlan consumed me, his voracious stare taking in every inch of my exposed skin. His lids were heavy as his eyes passed over my every feature. My breath hitched.
This wasn’t how he looked at me after the bus accident. That was romantic, starry-eyed. This was more than that. After the bus, Harlan looked at me like we’d fallen out of some Hallmark movie.
This look was for late nights, after-dark material. Everything under my bikini felt heavy, suddenly engorged with desire and need: my breasts, my pussy, even the strings holding up my bathing suit dug into my hips. I wanted to squirm, to relieve some of that pressure.
“Night, Mom.” Liam appeared at my side. I snapped to his attention, my brief fantasy crashing to an end. I was in my house. My son wasright hereand I was getting all juiced up over a man looking at me in a bikini.
I leaned back and cupped his cheek, giving the opposite one a kiss. “Night, baby. Hope you had a good birthday.”
“I did. Thanks, Mom.” He wrapped an arm around my side for a loose hug.
“I’m going to sleep in, but have a good morning, okay? You ready for your test?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll do fine.” Liam shook a finger at Royce. “Don’t keep her out too late.”
“Oh, stop,” I said.
Harlan chuckled. “I’ll take care of her.”
EIGHTEEN
EMMA
MARCH
A stillness settledbetween Harlan and me, while his hawkish eyes continued to study me. The corner of his lips ticked up. “Interesting. I thought you weren’t using your hot tub.”
My head lolled back on my shoulders and I sighed. “I knew you wouldn’t let it go.”
“I’m glad. You should use it.” He paused for a moment. “Liam’s a good kid.”
“Thanks,” I said quietly.
“I feel bad that I didn’t know you’re a mom.”
That statement surprised me. Not some shock or horror that I’m a mom, but rather putting it on himself that he didn’t know. Maybe that he wished he had known? But which way did that go? That he wished he’d known so he could avoid me? “That’s alright. I don’t really broadcast it. Or discuss my personal life at work at all.”
Harlan chewed the corner of his lip, brow furrowing. “Do other guys know?”
I sucked in a breath and hissed it out with a nod. “I’ve run into Sorrento and Leroy at the rink where their kids skate.”