Page 25 of Secret Baby
Her skin ignited, and she stared at his hard body. She turned her gaze to the ground, and she cooled her jets, though her lips tingled from a memory. "Ohh."
"I'll grill." He nodded.
After the hurricane, the weather was unusually colder than the usual sauna of Miami summers. She was born and raised in the roasting humidity, but the fire now came from inside her. Colt was too dangerous for her well-being. Today was different. She let out a loud sigh, and rolled her shoulders to let the tension that crept up her spine dissipate.
On the porch, she stomped up the stairs and slammed the door behind her. Colt whistled outside, and she heard the noisy sighs she made.
At least the house wasn't stuffy anymore. Colt had taken down the shutters to let the air back in. One step ahead of her today, but then again, he was a perfect gentleman. She shook her head like that would clear it. She had to lose her attraction to Colt fast. The man was engaged to be married, and Victoria Morgan was here for Clara.
As she took out the plate of steaks, the fresh corn on the cob, and the vegetable kebabs she made, Vicki's fingers twitched. Her body was too tight and achy to be near him.
Denial was hard.
She picked out the condiments off the metallic door of the refrigerator. She clicked her tongue in her mouth, pasted a smile back on her face, and went back outside.
With her hip, she pushed open the door, and she saw how handsome Colt had become. The man she stared at across the lawn who chased after Clara was rugged, protective, and the best father she ever could imagine. Their daughter squealed in delight. Vicki licked her lips. His hard muscles and strong shoulders only added fuel to her raging desires.
A genuine smile formed on her face, but as she went toward them, acid grew in her throat. Her father had never loved her, not like Colt with Clara.
Her stomach knotted, and she lowered her gaze. Perhaps the thought related to how she hadn't told Colt this morning about that kiss. She swallowed, and the tension she suddenly had dissipated. They had to find a way to share, and Vicki swore to herself she'd ensure Clara believed that she was worth more than living her life as a man's pretty accessory.
As she joined them and slipped the plate onto the table, Colt's hand squeezed her hip. She stayed speechless, and he reached over her shoulder to take the plate. Heat coursed through her.
He winked. "Go play with the rug rat while I get this started."
"Daddy, I'm not a rug rat," Clara yelled out. "I want to play tag."
With a fast grin, Vicki took her hand from Colt and then raced to her daughter. "Yeah, Dad. She's not a rug rat, but a princess."
"No. A princess. Apparently now I have two princesses in my life." His grin gave his excitement away. "Everywhere I go, girl rug rats turn into princesses."
Clara giggled like he'd said the funniest thing ever. Then she went to sit with her toys. Vicki didn't argue, and followed her until it was clear Clara wanted to play alone.
She pointed to Clara as she met Colt's gaze. Then she nodded and told him, "I'll go and get the beer."
Colt shook his head and his eyes sparkled. "So you failed at being a proper woman. Not getting me my beer on the first trip."
Colt Collins had turned into a comedian. She twirled with her hand in the air to scold him, but his smile was contagious. His appreciative head dip caught her attention, and she didn't rise to the bait. "Country boy like you never had any manners, Colt. We'll work on that when you dance with me."
Without another word spoken, she disappeared into the house.
A cold beer whetted her appetite too. A minute later, she popped the caps off two Coronas, added lime, and headed back out.
His succulent brown eyes stayed on her as she sashayed back with the beer. She handed one to him, and he quirked his eyebrow after he tasted it. "What happened to 'I only drink wine'?"
"I definitely prefer wine, but I'll drink this for now." She shrugged. "Cheers."
They tapped their bottles, and then he elbowed her side. "John taught you about the lime. I'm impressed."
A giggle escaped her lips. "John or Peter will never drink this in public, but you snuck one or two over a few summers and always added the splash of lime. Years later, when I lived in Texas for a minute, I decided to try."
"Limon," he corrected her with his Miami Spanish.
She shook her head at him, and refused to tell him that lime was the correct American terminology for the green, tart fruit. Only in Miami, the label for yellow lemon and the green lime were inverted in the everyday lingo. She tilted her head. "Country boy still arguing with me just because he likes to be right? What did you do without me as your target overseas?"
"You were never a target, Vicki, though I do admit I like being home." He flipped the steaks and stared at his grill. "You're too easy to tease, sunshine."
Clara left her toys, settled on the bench, and picked up a book.
