Page 62 of Even Exchange

“Are you hurt?” My eyes scan every inch of her body, finally landing at her feet, where multicolor ceramic fragments are sprinkled around.

“I don’t think so.”

“Hey!” Sophia shouts, still in the guest room with Elijah. “You christening the house too?”

“There better not beanychristening happening today!” I call out, reaching for Charlotte, thankful to have sneakers on.

“Too late!” Elijah replies, and I blow out a breath.Focus.

“I’m so sorry,” Charlotte says, looking at the mess.

“Put your hands on my shoulders,” I tell her, considering it seems like an acceptable time to break rule number one.

“I’m perfectly capab—” Her lips snap shut as my gaze sears into her.

“Hands. Shoulders. Now.”

“So bossy,” she says, reaching out to grip me.

“Good girl. See?” My teasing eyes meet hers. “I knew you could listen.” I place my hands on her hips, holding firmly. “Jump,” I instruct, and she pushes off her toes, allowing me to pull her into me. She wraps her legs around my waist, arms looping my neck, and her scent surrounds me.How does she always smell so good?Like peaches and torturous temptation. Her warm body is pressed against mine, and I fight a fucking hard-on as I walk over to the counter and set her on the edge.

“Thanks,” she says.

“Welcome.” I reluctantly remove my hands from her waist as indecent thoughts run rampant. She releases her hold, dropping a leg on each side of me, and I regain the ability to think straight.Mostly.

I lift her foot, checking the top and bottom closely for any shards. She doesn’t speak as I drop her leg and examine the other foot, only pausing to run my thumb over the softness of her ankle.

Are ankles usually this sexy?

“You sure you didn’t step on any?” I ask, slowly sliding my palm up her smooth leg, and resting it on her knee.So soft.

“Yes,” she croaks out as I step between her legs, and reach around to grab the handle of the broom. Her warm breath fans against my neck. “What are you…” She presses a palm to my chest, and I stop breathing. With my free hand, I brush her hair behind her shoulder and bring my lips to her ear.

“Don’t move,” I murmur, pausing for one selfish moment in her presence.Rein it in, Caruso.Gripping the broom, I pull it around, stepping away.

Charlotte releases a shaky breath. “Yes sir.”

She’s really not helping the fighting of the hard-on situation.

After the last shards of the cup are tossed, I grab Charlotte’s sandals. Taking her foot in my hand, I slide the shoe on, denying myself a pause as I do the same with the other.

“I feel like Cinderella,” she teases, and I offer a hand, which she accepts before hopping off the counter.

“Are you okay?” I ask, steadying her.

“Yes.” She sighs, releasing me. “I’m so sorry. I feel awful. You must have worked so hard on it.”

“I don’t care about the cup.”I do, but I’m used to things breaking.“I want to make sureyou’reokay.” A burning feeling settles in my stomach. “You started talking about your ex and immediately spaced out.”

“I know.” She pauses, eyes on the floor. “I feel ridiculous.”

“Don’t. You’re allowed to feel how you feel.”

She heads back to the cabinet, and silence blankets the room. Clinking fills the air as we arrange the remaining coffee mugs. I track her movements, hoping she’ll give away anything she may be feeling or thinking.

My curiosity overwhelms me, and I ask, “Do you miss him?”

Her face scrunches up in disgust. “God, no,” she says, and I let out a shaky laugh in relief. “I just don’t want to see him. Or talk to him. Or think about him.”

---