“Son of a-”
“Language,” I warn.
She looks at me and giggles. “Wade, I’m twenty-three. I’m allowed to curse. I wasn’t shy about it as a teenager either.”
I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that she’s really an adult. She sucks her bottom lip as she looks at me. I take her hand and inspect it. Her fingers tighten around mine as I flip her hand over, revealing the tiny bead of blood. Without a word, she brings her finger to her mouth and sucks it, as if to soothe the sting, her eyes never leaving mine. My cock twitches in my shorts, her sucking game too much for my self-control.
“I’ll survive. The fabric is red anyway. No one will notice,” she says with a shrug.
I squeeze her finger a bit and gently use a damp napkin to wipe it. “Better to be careful with you.”
“With the flowers or in general?” She asks, big dilated green eyes focused on me again. Her hair waves over her shoulder and chest. Her fitted top and jeans are practical, but suit her too. She’s so fucking grown up in ways that I feel ridiculous for noticing. “I wouldn’t want you hurt either. I like you best in one piece.” She continues without waiting for my answer.
“So, you’ll save me if I fall off a ladder?” I ask with a snort.
“I’m stronger than I look. I stay in shape,” she defends. “I bet I could handle you ... if you needed me to.”
Her cheeks burn and I let go of her hand. Distance is important. As much as I want to keep playing with her words,keep teasing her, I know I need to toe the line. She’s young, elegant, but I still remember how on top of the world I felt in my twenties. I was willing to say and do plenty that wasn’t smart. I have to be the adult here.
“Band-aids are still under the sink. Wash it and bandage it, please,” I instruct.
“I guess some things never change, Wade. You still like telling me what to do,” she says playfully as she stands.
“And you always obey ... me,” I reply.
She looks at me for a long moment, her eyes drinking in my tank top clinging to my sweaty chest. She clears her throat. “Well, you tend to be a good person to obey to. I have always had good incentives.”
I’d love to give her a real incentive. Give her the option of laying over my knee for a spanking or laying across my bed and welcoming my praise and worship as a reward.No. No. No.
Heading back to the tree I’m cutting into manageable pieces, I remind myself again who Eleanor is. She’s my best friend’s daughter. That means she’s off-limits. Forbidden. Not that it makes it easier to think straight when she’s around.
The next day, she decides to go for an afternoon swim to relax and my control goes to shit. I watch her athletic, curvy body as she swims. Her perfect ass barely contained by her swimsuit, her eyes flicking my way whenever she pauses. That knowing smile that spreads over her face when she catches me, and her blush... God that blush.
Best friend’s daughter. I remind myself again. Me and Dan have been friends for so long that ruining it would be stupid. Utterly and completely stupid.
“Wade, you should take a dip,” Eleanor calls.
“I’m working, Ellie. Like you’re supposed to be,” I answer, emphasizing the ax over my shoulder.
She steps out of the pool, water dripping from her skin as she walks toward me, her wet hair clinging to her back. She snorts, breaking the silence. “You always get the job done. Don’t you want to just... sink in and enjoy a beautiful day… the right way?”
I know she means it innocently. She has to. Even if she doesn’t, I need to take it as such. She’s eighteen years younger than me. That’s more than enough reason.
“Anyway… I’ll let you keep calling me Ellie, even if I’ve outgrown it,” she tells me later, reaching for her phone. She holds it up to show me the arch that her dad and Clair want. “But only you.”
Based on how she leans against me, not afraid of me being close, I have a feeling she’d let me do a whole lot more if I took her up on it.
“I know how to use a drill, so if you can cut the pieces, I can start assembling,” she offers.
“Or I can go buy one and you can get some vining ... plants,” I say.
“And flowers – but we should get those the day before the wedding so they’re fresh but I have enough time to organize them properly,” she muses. “Always filled with good ideas, you see.”
I almost roll my eyes at the praise of herself, but I know she is right. “We’ll save time and it will probably save money too.” She insists.
“Yes,” I agree. “I’ll tell your father to pick up an arch. And even if he can only find panels, I can adjust them and drill them into place as you said… Ellie.”
“And we’ll all know it’ll be done perfectly.” Eleanor says.