Page 99 of Skate the Line

That means it’s time to nip this in the bud before anything can get twisted.

And by twisted, I mean twisted into the truth, because I was absolutely referring to me fucking her to help her get over her fear of men.

My dick did the talking last night.

He and I are at odds right now.

A soft giggle leaves her, and I snap to attention.

“Something funny?” I ask.

Her denial comes quickly. The bun on her head shakes. “Nope.”

I cross the invisible line I’ve drawn in the kitchen and move closer to her. I can see her glance at me in her peripheral vision. “Are you thinking about my drunk-texting last night?”

“No. Of course not.” Her hand pauses with the paintbrush on the…what the hell is that thing?“I’m glad you were out having some fun. You deserve it.”

“Well, I want to clear something up.”

She peeks at me. “If this is about me sleeping in your bed…”

I place my palm on the counter beside the piece of pottery, or clay, whatever it is. “It’s not.”

The paintbrush, covered in green paint, hovers in between us. “Okay.”

I watch her closely. Her big brown eyes peer at me, and for once, I actually feel bad for lying. “I wasn’t implying that we sleep together last night when I said I could help you with your…problem.”

Sunny’s shoulders straighten. Her jaw tightens, and the pink color on her cheeks deepens. “I didn’t think that,” she declares. “Of course you didn’t mean that.”

How couldn’t I mean that? Look at her.

“Right,” I agree with her. “I was referring to giving you time off for dates…” I skip my gaze elsewhere because anyone with a pulse could see right through me. “Or doing a background check on someone if you were to go on a date with them.” Sunny nibbles on her lip, like she’s trying to decide if I’m telling the truth or not. “You know, just to make you feel safer. Maybe take the edge of fear away.”

I’ll likely do a background check with or without her request.

Our gazes snag.

There’s no way she’s believing this.

I have a knot in my stomach, and I don’t think it’s from the hangover.

Am I nervous? Anxious? Perturbed at the thought of her going on a date?

“That’s…” She clears her throat. “Kind of you.”

I chuckle. “I don’t think anyone has ever referred to me as such.”

Her cheek lifts with a turn of her head, and it hits me right in the chest. She goes back to busying herself with her project and says, “You’re kind underneath all those gruff layers. It just takes some digging to get there.”

I’m only kind to her.

And Ellie, but that doesn’t count. She’s five, and she’s my daughter.

I haven’t known Sunny for long, yet it feels like I’ve known her for a lot longer.

“I’m sorry,” I say abruptly. “But what the fuck is that?”

She snaps her attention to me. It only takes a second for a soft smile to spread across her pretty face. “It’s Pascal.”

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