Page 30 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

Those were excellent fathering thighs.

Sturdy.

Capable.

His hands, too.

Even from a distance, I could tell they were nice and big, just the way I liked.

He shoved them in his pockets, and I sighed wistfully as my eyes traveled up his gorgeous forearms. Ropey muscle, covered in dark hair. One wristsported a lovely watch, expensive no doubt, round face glinting in the sun. It looked worn. An heirloom perhaps?

Eager for more, after nothing but pleasant surprise after pleasant surprise, I dragged my gaze up the stranger’s full pectorals to his throat—surely something had to be wrong with him? Thus far, I couldn’t fathom why he’d need help getting dates at all.

At least…until I saw his face.

I don’t know what I expected.

But—it certainly wasn’t what I got.

Because familiar, taunting dimples haunted the edges of Alex’s smirk. And those pale eyes burned bright, zeroing in on me like a hunter who’d spotted prey.

His eyes said,there you are.

And I was once again tempted to run.

That’s right.

Juniper’s brother was Alex from the goddamn plane.

Dildo-saving, suit-wearing, infuriatingly-sexy Alex.

Jesus Christ, I was so fucking fucked.

Spotting Alex in my childhood backyard was like a fever dream. Unreal. Panic twisted tight as a noose around my neck, and my shirt collar, like earlier, suddenly felt far too tight. Simply breathing became laborious—short, panicked bursts escaping as I processed the fact that my own personal demon had reappeared. Too soon, reality set in, and my initial shock and horror evolved into bewilderment.

Roddy turned back to me with a clueless expression. “You can ask him yourself!”

Ask who what?

Alex?

It took me a second to remember I’d been in the middle of interrogating Roderick about Juniper’s mysterious family-loving brother. Seconds that had passed like lifetimes as the summer sun set, and the chaos I’d thought I’d abandoned at the airport followed me home.

I’d been intrigued before.

Roderick was expecting me to still be intrigued. And if the look on his face was any indicator, he assumed my ogling was caused by interest—not horror.

I couldn’t blame him.

That would be the more logical conclusion.

“Don’t worry, June told me you’re his type,” Roderick promised, attempting to soothe. “One sec?—”

Don’t do it.

Don’t do this to me, Roderick?—

Before I could open my mouth, Roderick whipped his hand in a circle, tossed it back, and threw an invisible lasso toward the two siblings—like a total dork.

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