Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Daniel
Twenty minutes after my call with Rosie, I get a text message from her. No words, just a photo of Mel in her dress. It’s official, my daughter is getting married in two days. And from the beaming smile on her face as the seamstress adjusts her train, she’s beside herself with excitement.
My gaze slides to the woman taking the picture.
Her reflection is captured in the mirror in front of the bride.
Rosie’s hip is cocked, and her head is tilted in the same direction.
The pose exaggerates the tight nip of her waist, the roundness of her hips, and the youthful perkiness of her breasts in a slinky-looking dress seemingly made of molten metal.
The overhead lights in the shop catch every plane of her curvy body, and my fingers itch to find out what she’s wearing underneath that dress.
My pulse jacks up as I tap on the photo and save it.
“Everything all right?”
I put my phone away and glance up at Javier as he returns to our table. The banker is only six years younger than me. It’s an adjustment to think of him as my son-in-law. In another setting, we’d be more believable as colleagues.
But I’d be the worst kind of hypocrite if I didn’t embrace him as the man of Mel’s dreams while I’m quietly lusting after Rosie.
“Everything’s great.” I put my phone back in my pocket. “Dresses all look good.”
I spend the rest of the afternoon meeting wedding guests and being more social than I’ve had to be in years.
By the time afternoon drinks spill into pre-dinner cocktails, I’ve had enough. I excuse myself to go back to my suite, hoping I’ll run into Rosie, but she’s nowhere to be found.
I check my work email, call into the office, then head to the chapel for the “ten minute, super fast wedding rehearsal,” as it’s labeled in Rosie’s calendar entry. Apparently, she invited me to it at some point.
Mel and Javi are waiting outside, having a quiet conversation. She sets her hand on his forearm as I approach, pausing whatever they’re talking about.
“Dad,” she says, reaching her other hand for mine. “Javi said you had a good afternoon.”
“We had a great afternoon. But I had to hear from your fiancé that you have a new job?”
“It’s been a busy few weeks.” She gives me a sheepish grin. “But hopefully, we can find time to catch up at dinner.”
Too many people will be around tonight. “Or over breakfast tomorrow?”
She nods vigorously. “Yes. Of course. Your suite?”
Nope, that won’t do. My suite has a secret guest in it. “I’ll come to yours. I imagine you’ll have lots of last-minute things coming up.”
She brightens. “Good point. And I can have my girls there, too.”
So much for our father-daughter meal.
At this point, I’ll have to fly to New York when this is all over to have any quality time with my daughter.
But I’m surprised to realize I’m not bitter about this realization. I’ve been in denial about her fully growing up and being a wholly independent adult. Her wedding weekend is as good a time as any to snap the fuck out of that delusion.
“Babe, your dad doesn’t want to play second fiddle to your wedding excitement.” Javier’s tone is gentle, but Mel reacts to it immediately.
“Oh. Right. Sorry, Dad. I’ll tell the girls to do their own thing until we’re done with breakfast.”
“It’s fine, sweetheart.” I kiss her on the cheek. “Really. Javi’s right—I would like some quality time, just the two of us. But we have the rest of our lives for that. This weekend is all about the two of you getting married.”
Inside the chapel, I finally see Rosie for the first time since lunch.
She’s talking to the other bridesmaids. They’re all wearing matching tank tops now, one of three sets she bought earlier today, and her long brown hair is twisted up on top of her head in a big, messy bun.
The sight of her is like a long, cool drink of water, and I’m a thirsty man who waited too long to take a sip.
She’s the only person in this whole circus with whom I’ve had a real conversation. Of course, that was before everyone arrived.
As if she can feel the weight of someone’s assessing gaze, she turns slightly, then smiles when her eyes meet mine.
Hi, she mouths.
I want to order the room cleared so I can kiss her until she’s gasping with a need to match my own. Unzip her dark blue jean shorts and find out what she’s wearing under them, if it’s cotton or silk, and what it feels like against my nose as I breathe in the scent of her.
Practically a virgin.
How little experience does she have? I have twenty-five years of fantasies built up. More years of filthy desire than she’s even been alive. Her innocent desire is no match for what my lizard brain wants.
That moment in the chapel will be as close as I get to her all evening. The rehearsal spills into a boisterous dinner, and then the girls (as Mel keeps referring to them) leave as a group.
I excuse myself as soon as is politely possible after that and retreat to my suite.
My quiet hotel room is a relief after a non-stop day. I throw myself into the shower, but I’m filled with an unfulfilled energy that won’t be washed away.
Jerking off doesn’t help, either.
So I pull on workout clothes for the second time in a day, and because I’m forty-three years old and know two workouts in one day will be hell on my body, I grab my swim trunks, too.
I’ll soak in the hot tub I spied this morning after excising the demon who wants me to rut on top of my daughter’s best friend.
I drop my gym bag on a lounge chair next to the pool and hot tub area an hour later. I’m on the far side of the roof from where Rosie and I had drinks last night. On this side, the fake rock formations create mini private pools, some heated more than others, according to the attendant in the gym.
I hop into the nearest one and settle in front of a jet. As my limbs slowly relax, I sink lower into the water.
And that’s when I hear them. My daughter, her best friend, and her two bridesmaids laughing as they approach the pool. They didn’t come from the same direction I did by the gym. They’re walking along the rock formations from the bar.
I push off the wall and glide deeper into the covered cave I’m in until I can see them. Four young women, all in bathrobes. Giggling like they’ve had a bit to drink.
I narrow my eyes on reflex, then roll them at myself. That was the same reaction that got me into trouble with Rosie in the first place.
Better if they don’t know that I’m here. And as long as they don’t swim in this direction, they won’t. If they do, I’ll take advantage of the cover of darkness and disappear out another pool entrance.
As a group, they disrobe, but I only have eyes for one of them. Rosie turns her back to me as she shrugs out of the robe.
I silently lift my fist to my mouth, biting down on my knuckle as a strapless bikini is revealed. Bright yellow strips of material wrap low on her luscious hips and in a hypnotic twist around her breasts.
The same curves that looked so innocent and sweet in a T-shirt and yoga pants, that transformed into pure beauty in a red dress, and proved effortlessly touchable today in a tank top and shorts, now look like utter sin in that bikini.
Above the low waistband, her belly slopes in a sexy round bump before curving into her waist. She has to hold on to the top as she jumps into the pool, giggling delightfully as the water splashes around her.
Below the water, my cock strains for release.
I want to paint every inch of her sweet body with come. Splatter her tits and belly and inner thighs with my seed.
I swallow against the rough vision. Her, sprawled on a bed. On the floor. My cock swinging above her, dripping post-climax. Her fingers trailing through it, marveling at how it feels against her skin.
Mr. Burke. . .
Call me Daniel.
A wicked smile. Is this how Daniel behaves with other girls? Or is this Mr. Burke being very, very bad?
Rosie would never be that saucy. That’s a fucking fantasy right there, one I shouldn’t entertain while she’s a guest in my suite.
I entertain it anyway.
Squeezing my erection hard beneath the dark surface of the water, I quietly slip further away from them.
But it doesn’t matter how deep into the caves I move.
I can still hear them. Her, particularly.
The throaty laugh, the light gasps. She’s such a gorgeous contradiction of a woman.
Knowing and innocent at the same time. Forceful and unsure.
Fuck, do I like that combination in a lover.
A fantasy of a lover, anyway.
At least half an hour passes, and then one of the bridesmaids announces that she’s beat. “Time for bed.”
“Me, too,” my daughter says. There’s splashing, and I swim closer to get another glimpse of Rosie in that bikini as she gets out.
But then the God of Perverted Old Men grants me an absolute blessing because Rosie waves them on ahead of her.
“I’m going to swim a little longer,” she says. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
A gift of stolen time with her that I will not waste.
From my seat in the shadows, I watch as the other girls climb out of the pool and towel off, then wrap themselves in their robes.
I wait until they’re out of sight before pushing off the wall and gliding closer to Rosie.
“This is a coincidence,” I murmur from behind her.
She jumps and gasps, spinning around. “Daniel!”
“Fuck, sorry.” I reach for her. “I scared you.”
She giggles nervously, steadying herself, her hands wrapping around my shoulders. “Yeah.”
Once she’s treading water again, I let go of her, but I don’t move away.
“Where did you come from?”
“There are hotter mini pools in the cave. I was having a soak after going to the gym.”
She gives me a curious look. “Again?”
Not that it did any good. I track a water droplet curling its way down her cheek, gliding past the corner of her mouth. “It helps me sleep.”
“That’s why I wanted to swim a bit. I’m all. . .” She churns her hands in the water. “Ramped up, I guess. It was a lot today.”
“I highly recommend the jets.” I point, and she nods, then slices her arm through the water, starting to swim in that direction.
I hang back for a beat and tip my head up to the cool, dark sky. I won’t do anything, I think, but it’s not much of a vow. It’s almost guaranteed to be a lie.
I will do whatever she wants.
When I catch up to her, she’s navigating her way around a couple locked in an embrace. She glances at me with a secret smile. Inside the cave, there are dim lights in nooks and crannies, creating lots of secret shadows—but there’s enough light to see someone up close.
I catch her hand and tug her into the next hot tub. For now, we have it all to ourselves.
She sighs in happiness as she leans back against a jet. I sit across from her and drink in the sight of her bare shoulders and plump breasts.
“Finally alone,” she whispers, then giggles.
“What’s so funny?”
“I shouldn’t tell you.”
“I think that means you should.”
She groans and covers her face with her hands. “It’s kind of awkward.”
“I love awkward.”
She peeks between two of her fingers. “Really?”
“It’s a very human feeling. Usually relatable, not that most people want to admit that.”
Her hands splash down into the water. “That’s true!”
“I know.” I crook my fingers. “Out with it.”
“One of the bridesmaids is on the prowl for you.”
That was not what I was expecting her to say. “Oh?”
“Mel made me promise to run interference.” Her voice goes up at the end, as if asking a question but actually making a statement in disbelief.
My chest tightens. If she’s happy to run interference on behalf of my daughter, then she’s hardly going to share my darkest fantasies.
Talk about fucking awkward.
And now I’ve dragged her into a goddamn water cave so I can, what? Molest her?
I need therapy. And a drink. And a willing woman in my bed.
But the only woman I want to be willing is sitting across from me, waiting for me to say something.
Interference.
I clear my throat. “Consider me fair warned. If it comes up, you can assure my daughter that I am a monk.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” Rosie says. The words rush out of her.
I don’t think I’ve heard her properly. I crook my head to the side.
She makes a strangled humming sound. “For Leesa, I mean. Leesa will be bitterly disappointed.”
“Rosie?”
The sound she’s making turns into a little unsure, “Uh-huh?”
I move across the hot tub to float in front of her. Under the water, her bright yellow bikini calls to me. I want to trace the edges of it with my fingertips. Dip under the fabric here and there. “I’m not interested in Leesa. At all.”
“That’s good,” she whispers. “I don’t know why I brought it up.”
I do. With blinding clarity, I suddenly see that the chemistry I’ve been mainlining since yesterday is definitely reciprocal. A two-way lust street between my daughter’s best friend and me.
I have no doubt about it now, but I need to choose my next move carefully, or she’ll spook.
I don’t want to spook her. I want to love her. Every sweet inch.
“My daughter worries about me because I’ve never dated anyone. And she thinks I can be trapped by some overly aggressive younger millennial.”
That makes Rosie laugh. Good. “Yes,” she says huskily. “I think there’s definitely some of that worry beneath it all. She’s very protective of you when she’s not wrapped up in wedding stuff. She doesn’t want you to be hurt.”
I stroke a wet strand of hair off her cheek. “What do you know about that?”
She worries her bottom lip. “Just what Mel has said over the years. That you don’t like to talk about. . . her mother. That you’ve vowed never to marry again.”
“The first part is true. The second, though. . . I don’t know about that anymore.”
Her lips twist. “The ladies of Conception Ridge will be delighted to hear you’re back on the market.”
“I didn’t say that.” I can’t stop touching her. My hand drops to her shoulder, and my thumb strokes over the curve of her flesh before I pull back. In my veins, my pulse is heavy and needy. “It would have to be the right woman. Just one. But that’s not why Mel is worried about me this weekend.”