TARA HAD A love-hate relationship with mornings. She loved the possibilities new days held, but she hated waking from dreams of Levi and being forced to accept the reality of their platonic relationship and vow once again to honor her resolution to stop fantasizing about him. She showered, dried her hair, and put on a little makeup, and as she pulled on tan skinny jeans and a white sweater, thoughts of last night crept in and she reveled in every word, every touch, that heated look in his eyes…
She froze like a deer caught in headlights. What am I doing? No. No. No. I am not going there. Her resolution wasn’t a fad diet or exercise routine that could be tossed away without care. This was her life, and she deserved to have a full, beautiful one and find the kind of all-consuming love that Jules and Grant had.
She stuffed a jacket into her tote bag and swore that after Levi and Joey came over to say goodbye to her parents this morning, she would make a valiant effort not to think about him again until next weekend, when he came back to look at houses with her. She shoved her feet into a pair of canvas sneakers and took a few deep breaths. Her gaze trailed over the pictures of family and friends around her room, each one in a colorful, hand-chosen frame, and lingered on a picture of Levi and Joey, taken when Joey was only six days old. She was such a tiny baby. Tara had gone to see them after school and had found Levi fast asleep on a blanket on his parents’ living room floor. He was lying on his side with his head on a throw pillow from the couch, and Joey was sleeping in the crook of his arm, a half-empty bottle of formula lying beneath his hand. Joey’s cheek rested on his arm. Her knees were bent, her tiny feet tucked against his side. Levi’s other hand cupped her bottom. His cheeks were scruffy, his thick brown hair stuck out all over, and his shoulder had dried spittle on it, but he had a small smile on his lips.
She had no idea how Amelia could have given birth to such a precious little girl on a Tuesday and gone back to school the following week, leaving behind her infant and an incredible man who vowed to do whatever it took to raise their baby right. It still infuriated Tara that Amelia hadn’t even reached out to see how Joey was until weeks later.
But then again, she’d never understood anything Amelia had done.
She huffed out a breath and took a quick scrutinizing look at herself in the mirror. Most mornings, she saw the smart, strong woman she’d become looking back at her. But some days she still saw that chubby, insecure girl who had taken comfort in food and was plagued by secretive snide comments from Amelia, who had always looked like one of their mother’s perfect projects. When those mornings came, Tara spent extra time looking at the pictures of Jules and Bellamy tucked into the edges of her mirror frame. They’d always been there to pick her up when Amelia knocked her down, at least the instances she’d let them know about. She thought of all the times Levi had found her in the pantry at parties and had sat with her, sharing snacks and talking until she’d felt safe enough to come out. When she finally had, he’d stayed by her side, and he hadn’t ever made her feel awkward about hiding in the first place. She’d never confided in him about her sister’s comments the way she had with Jules and Bellamy. It was too embarrassing to admit to him that her own sister had found her so pathetic.
Thankfully, after Amelia went away to school, through years of working on her confidence and overall emotional and physical health, she’d developed a healthier relationship with food and learned to be kind to herself, making those more difficult mornings few and far between.
She took one last look around her bedroom to ensure she hadn’t left anything out of place, her mother’s lessons ingrained in her mind. Whether we’re out in public or home, we must always look our best and be ready for guests. Her mother made more out of their father’s mayoral status than it warranted. He was voted into office because he was a caring, smart businessman and always treated others kindly, not because of the way he dressed or presented his home. Her father had grown up on the island and enjoyed small-town life so much, he often shared fond memories of his youth, and he knew material things didn’t matter to the people there. However, her mother had grown up with wealthy parents in a high-class neighborhood in Connecticut. She found reminiscing to be impractical and preferred to live in the present. Why look back when you can only succeed by moving forward?
Unfortunately, making the house perfect for guests they rarely had made it feel less like a home. As soon as Robert had moved out and Amelia and Carey had begun building lives off the island, her mother had redecorated their rooms in pristine white, tans, and blues, like the rest of the house. Her mother’s need for perfection was almost as much of a bane of Tara’s existence as Amelia’s selfishness, but it gave her mother purpose, and she supposed everyone needed something of their own.
Too bad Amelia’s thing was traveling rather than mothering.
Tara’s saving grace was that her grandmother had moved in with them, sharing the second floor with her since her grandfather passed away a few years ago, while her parents’ master suite was on the first floor. Tara shut her bedroom door and headed down the hall to Carey’s old room, which she used as an office.
“Hey, roomie,” her grandmother called out as Tara walked by her bedroom.
She peeked in and found her father’s mother, Blanche Osten, standing by her dresser wearing white capris, a pink-and-tan striped shirt, and tan flats. She had many pairs of fashionable glasses, and today she sported round pink frames. Her grandmother was a sprite of a woman, at just over five feet tall and probably all of a hundred pounds soaking wet, with short white hair and a flair for rebellion. Tara adored her.
The first thing her grandmother had done when she’d moved in was rearrange and redecorate Robert’s old bedroom. She replaced the drab decor with colorful blankets and curtains and vibrant paintings. She also belonged to the island’s Bra Brigade, a group of older women who had been sunbathing in their bras together since they were teenagers and who frequented Pythons, a male strip club on Cape Cod, under the guise of playing harmless games of bingo. The group was started by Levi’s grandmother, Lenore. They’d recruited many of their daughters, granddaughters, and daughters-in-law for their sunbathing activities over the years. Tara’s mother was not one of them, although Tara had joined in a few times at the insistence of Jules and Bellamy.
“What’s up, Gram?”
She motioned for Tara to come into the room. “Would you mind if I borrowed your laptop, sweetie?”
Tara crossed her arms, setting a serious stare on her sassy grandmother. “The last time I lent it to you, it got a virus from sites I’d rather not mention.”
“Yes, but you quickly rectified that. Don’t be a fuddy-duddy. I’d just like to support my new friend in his business endeavors.”
“What friend is that?”
“His name is Sylvester Stabone.”
“Sylvester Stabone?” Tara sighed. “Grandma, how old is this guy, and what does he do for a living?”
“I think he’s probably in his late twenties. He’d be a good catch, sweetie. He’s very talented. Sometimes he’s a fireman, or a policeman, or a construction worker. I think he could be anything you want.”
“Did you and the other Bra Brigaders meet him last weekend? Does he work at Pythons?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. He works very hard to earn a living, and he’s quite well rounded.”
“And what type of business do you want to support? His OnlyFans page?”
She straightened her spine, waggling her finger at Tara. “Don’t try to shame me for enjoying the human body. It’s only natural. I might be old, sweetie, but I’m not dead.”
“Gram, you really need to find a better way to spend your time and money.”
Her grandmother waved her hand dismissively. “You sound like your mother. Now, that’s a woman whose life could use a little spicing up. Speaking of spicing up lives.” Her eyes widened with excitement, and she lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Did you get to dance with your man last night?”
Practically everyone on the island had known she’d crushed on Levi when she was younger, but as soon as she’d realized how wrong it was to be lusting over the father of her sister’s child, she’d tried to keep her feelings under wraps. She’d never even admitted them to Jules and Bellamy, her strongholds, her safe havens. The girls who had always, and would forever, have her back. Not sharing the truth with them made it harder to hold it in. But her grandmother had never bought into Tara having outgrown her crush, and Tara had finally confided in her.
“He’s not my man.”
“Honey, that’s only because you’re not working your assets. If I had all that you have going for you, I’d be on his front porch wearing nothing but a trench coat and a come-hither smile.”
“Ohmygosh. Grandma!” She laughed. “I told you, I made a res—”
“Resolution, I know,” her grandmother said flatly, and then pointed her finger at her. “But you know how I feel about that. Levi Steele should top your to-do list, not be sworn off like a bad habit.”
“Ugh. Gram. I’m going downstairs for breakfast. Are you coming?”
“No. I’m going to be busy helping Sylvester earn a living. Right?” she asked hopefully.
“Fine, but if you get caught, you’d better tell Mom you stole my laptop, and stay off those other sites.”
Her grandmother did a joyful shimmy. “That’s my girl.”
“Levi and Joey are coming to say goodbye before they go back to Harborside.”
“In that case, when I’m done with my economic assistance, I’ll come down and say goodbye. But it might be a while.” Her grandmother lowered her voice. “And, honey, if Levi doesn’t appreciate what’s right in front of his eyes, you just let your Grammy know, and I’ll hook you up with Sylvester.”
“Gram,” Tara warned.
“Just sayin’.” Her grandmother hurried out of the bedroom, heading for Tara’s room.
Tara shook her head and went into her office. She put her planner in her tote and grabbed her photography bag. As she headed downstairs, she heard her mother talking in the kitchen and drew in a deep breath, praying for patience.
The kitchen was stark white with light bamboo floors, varying shades of tan and blue accents, and bouquets of fresh flowers her mother picked up in town every week decorating the counters. Tara loved the flowers, even if her mother hadn’t gotten them so her family could appreciate their beauty, but rather just for guests who rarely appeared. The flowers reminded Tara of when she was young and she and her mother would go to the nursery together at the start of each season to pick out flowers and plants for the gardener. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when those trips had been overcome with nitpicking rather than fun, but eventually that had sucked the joy right out of them.
Her father was reading on his iPad at the table, dressed in a white button-down and slacks. Mayor Patrick Osten was in his late fifties, with short brown hair, a little extra weight around the middle, and a kind word always at the ready. In the center of the table was a platter of scrambled eggs with goat cheese, sliced fruit garnished with sprigs of mint, and wheat toast. We must always be ready for guests. Her mother, Marsha, stood at the island in navy slacks, an off-white blouse, and heels, talking on the phone and jotting notes on a pad. Her side-parted shoulder-length blond hair was tucked behind her ears. Tara shared her mother’s high cheekbones and fair skin and hair, but she had her father’s blue eyes and warm heart.
Her father looked up from his iPad. “There’s my beautiful jelly bean.” He’d called her that since she was a little girl, and it never failed to bring a little extra sunshine into the moment.
“Morning, Dad. Who is Mom talking to?” She put her photography bag and tote on the counter and poured herself a glass of orange juice.
“Goldie Gallow, over in Seaport. They’re putting together a charity drive. Your mother asked me to help out, and I was thinking it would be a great time to get some community photos of your dear old dad doing the mayoral thing.”
“Sure. When is it?”
“The Sunday you return from watching Joey.”
“Okay. Just let me know the details when you have them.” Her father was two years into his third consecutive four-year term as mayor of Silver Island, and Tara had been photographing him for the newspaper since she was eighteen.
“Great. Sit with me.” He patted the chair beside him and sipped his coffee as she sat down. “Did you kids have a good time last night?”
Her father had always taken an interest in her personal life, and he’d encouraged her to strike out on her own professionally. He’d helped her set up her business and understand all the aspects that went into it, from marketing and accounting to negotiating and pricing her services appropriately. She’d balked at the high prices he’d suggested but had quickly realized that her skills warranted higher rates than less-skilled photographers.
She’d been blessed with a lot of support from her family and the community. Her mother had helped her get her first job with the newspaper, and she had always helped spread the word about Tara’s services among her friends and volunteer groups. Her brothers had cheered her on, just like Levi always had. Levi had started his own company just a few years earlier, and he’d helped her navigate some of her biggest frustrations. His parents and Bellamy’s parents were prominent local business owners, and they’d also stood behind her, offering sage advice and hiring her for many projects over the years, and there was no shortage of rallying friends supplying marketing and social media advice.
“Yes. We always have fun, and it’s good to see Archer and Indi so happy.” Archer had sported a permanent scowl for so many years, she’d wondered if he’d ever smile again.
“It sure is,” her father said thoughtfully. “Their family has been to hell and back. It’s tough when your kids don’t get along.”
“I know it is,” she said apologetically.
Tara’s relationship with Amelia had always been a bone of contention between Tara and her parents. Amelia’s pregnancy had sent their family into turmoil, and they’d never quite recovered. When Amelia told their parents she was pregnant, their mother had been horrified that her daughter, the mayor’s daughter, could do such a thing, and she’d villainized Levi. As if it didn’t take two to tango. Their father had worried more about Amelia’s insistence over giving the baby up. He’d been concerned she might change her mind later in life. Her selfish sister had quickly nixed that worry. But her father had kept a cool distance from Levi for a while. Tara didn’t know how Levi had put up with it. But Levi’s love for Joey, his constant efforts to include her family in Joey’s life despite the way her parents had treated him, and his drive to be the best father he could be and not cut Amelia out of Joey’s life had won her father over, while her mother remained a bit standoffish toward him.
“What’s on your agenda today?” her father asked, cheerily changing the subject as he did so well. Although he’d been cold toward Levi at first, in general he wasn’t one to linger in hard spots.
“A baby photo shoot, a family session, a new client, and then I’m going to scope out some new locations for a shoot I’m doing Thursday evening with Bellamy. It should be a great day.” Bellamy was applying for a spot on The Bachelor, but they were keeping it on the down low because Bellamy’s family would not approve. They hadn’t even told Jules since she was engaged to Grant. Tara hated keeping it from her, but Bellamy didn’t want to put Jules in a position to have to lie to her fiancé.
“Did I hear you say you were seeing a new client today?” her mother asked as she came around the counter after ending her call. She put her hand on Tara’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as she sat down.
That was her mother’s version of a hug, and it always left Tara yearning for more.
“Yes, in Chaffee.” The island had several boroughs. Ritzy Silver Haven, where they lived, artistic Chaffee, with cobblestone streets and colorful shops, and two old-school New England fishing towns, Rock Harbor and Seaport. Tara loved the eclectic mix of towns on the island, and since there was only one high school serving the island, it made for close-knit communities.
Her mother ran an assessing eye over her. “Honey, maybe you should put on something a little nicer.”
Tara tried not to roll her eyes. “People come to me for my photography skills, Mom, not my outfits.” They’d had that annoying conversation for years. When Tara had first started her business, she’d tried to dress a little nicer when meeting clients, but as her days had gotten busier, it was more important to be comfortable during photo shoots than to try to impress people with dressy clothes.
Her father winked, as if to say, Way to keep your cool, sweetheart.
“Yes, well, it never hurts to outshine the competition.”
“If my work wasn’t better than other photographers’, they wouldn’t have contacted me in the first place.” Tara’s patience was wearing thin.
“Tara outshines others no matter what she wears,” her father said.
“Of course she does. I was just trying to give her an edge. Tara, honey, have some eggs and fruit,” her mother suggested as she sipped her coffee.
Tara held up her glass. “I’ve got orange juice.”
“You know that won’t fill you up, and then you’ll just snack on the run, which isn’t good for you.”
“People my age live on caffeine. I think I’m fine.”
The kitchen door opened, and Robert walked in, tall and athletic in a green T-shirt and jeans. He was carrying Joey, smothering Tara’s frustration with happiness, and holding a pastry box from the Sweet Barista.
“Look who I found out front.” Robert set the pastry box on the counter. He lived in Rock Harbor, and he adored Joey and Levi.
Levi stepped inside behind him, looking like sex on badass legs in his black leather vest, which had Dark Knights’ patches on the back, a T-shirt, worn jeans, and black biker boots, bringing a conflicting mix of flutters and trepidation. Had he felt the connection she had last night, or was it all in her head? His dark eyes found her, and a sexy grin spread across his face, sending those flutters into overdrive.
I will not make this into something it’s not, she vowed.
“There’s my Jojo Bean,” her father exclaimed as they all got up to greet them. Joey grinned at the nickname he’d called her since she was a toddler.
“Uncle Robert brought muffins and pastries!” Joey wriggled out of Robert’s arms in her black leather jacket that had a DARK KNIGHTS’ DAUGHTER patch on the back, which Levi called his hands-off warning. She ran straight to Tara, her biker boots—miniature versions of her daddy’s—clomping on the pristine floors.
Tara gathered her into a hug. “Are you going on a motorcycle ride with Daddy today when you get back to Harborside?” She glanced at Levi as her father embraced him, and her mother gave him an awkward hug.
“Nope. I have a playdate.” Joey ran to her grandparents. “Grandpa! Grandma! I learned a new skateboard trick…”
As Joey went on about the trick, Levi made his way over to Tara. “She’s hanging out with some of the other club members’ wives and kids while I go riding with the guys.”
Tara glanced at her mother and lowered her voice. “I’d give anything to be on the back of your bike right now instead of here.”
“I can’t do anything about that now, but I’d like to make that happen when you come down for spring break.”
He held her gaze, and the air hummed with electric energy between them, as if he were trying to relay a deeper message. Nothing like a little leftover wishful thinking to drive a girl crazy. Robert walked over, bringing her mind firmly back to reality. “I’d love that,” she said. “But who will watch Joey?”
“She’s already had three invitations for playdates over her break. We’ll find the time.”
“Hey, Levi. I’m a little offended,” Robert teased. “You know how I love the wind on my face. Where’s my invitation to be your back warmer?”
“When you get to be as cute as your sister, I’ll give you a ride,” Levi teased.
Robert chuckled. “That doesn’t give me much hope, does it?”
Levi had called her cute many times. But cute was for little girls, which was probably how he still saw her. When she’d made her New Year’s resolution, she’d listed all the things he’d said and done that she’d tried to twist into something more, and that was one of them. She’d clung to it, hoping it would help ease her out of the crazy-for-Levi zone. It had helped, and this was a good reminder.
“You should come to my tournament,” Joey exclaimed to her grandparents. “I’m the best skateboarder in my age group. I’m going to win a trophy!”
“I bet you are, sweetheart. We’ll try to make it,” Tara’s father said encouragingly.
“Skateboarding?” Her mother glanced disapprovingly at Levi and returned a strained smile to Joey. “Wouldn’t you like to try dance or maybe swimming?”
“I swim all summer, and I dance all the time in our living room with Daddy and Tara,” Joey said. “They’re great dancers.”
Levi slung an arm around Tara, pulling her tight against his side. “Tara makes us look good.”
As Tara gobbled up that praise, she noticed another of her mother’s disapproving expressions. She ducked out from under Levi’s arm and went to check out the pastries Robert had brought.
Joey climbed onto a chair at the table. “Grandpa, if I eat eggs, can I have a pastry?”
Smart girl asking Grandpa instead of Grandma.
“Hey, Tara,” Robert called over as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “Remember when I caught you dancing and singing into your hairbrush?”
Tara pretended to be studying the pastries. “No. Not really. Nope. I don’t remember that.”
Robert laughed.
Levi went to her. “This, I have to hear.”
“It was nothing. I was fourteen.” And brokenhearted.
“Fourteen and fantastic.” Robert lowered his voice so their parents wouldn’t hear him. “I came home for a weekend, and I thought everyone was gone, but the Taylor Swift song ‘You Belong with Me’ was blaring from upstairs. I went up and found this one dancing on her bed, holding a hairbrush like a microphone, and belting out the lyrics.”
Levi grinned, and Tara pointed at him. “Don’t say a word.” She leaned against the counter, giving Robert a narrow-eyed look. “Thanks a lot.”
“You know I love you, and you gave Taylor Swift a run for her money. I was seriously impressed.” Robert grabbed the box of pastries and headed over to the table, where Joey was deep in conversation with their parents.
A sexy grin played on Levi’s lips. “Why are you embarrassed to be a Swifty?”
Because I was singing about you. “I’m not.”
“Good, because I’m glad you’re a Swifty who likes to sing and dance. When Joey went from her princess stage to playing sports and skateboarding and those girls at school made fun of her, you really came through with your ‘Shake It Off’ lesson. I’d tried everything to make her feel better, and I was at a loss.”
“I remember the video call. You were at your wit’s end.” He’d been devastated because Joey was so upset, and she’d had to talk them both off the ledge. Levi had wanted to storm over to the girls’ houses and have it out with their parents. But Tara knew how skewed parents’ views of their children could be and that confronting them could make things worse for Joey. As for Joey, Tara had given her the help she hadn’t been able to give her younger self. She’d explained that some people might try to bring her down because they were jealous or intimidated. She’d been honest and had said there were also people who were just plain mean but that it was up to Joey how she let their words affect her and how she treated the people who hurt her. They’d talked for a long time about how what was said had made Joey feel and how to handle those girls. When Joey had stopped crying and was feeling better, Tara shared her secret mood booster. She and Joey had grabbed their hairbrushes, cranked the Taylor Swift song “Shake It Off,” and sang and danced until they both collapsed into a giggling fit, the sight of which had soothed Levi’s tension, too. Tara had gone to Harborside the next day and had been there when Joey had gotten home from school, because she’d worried about both Joey and Levi, and she’d stayed for the weekend, just to be sure they were okay.
“You knew exactly what to do. You gave her something she could relate to that empowered her, and I couldn’t be more grateful,” Levi said, drawing her back to the moment.
I’ve had a lot of practice getting over bad feelings.
“Now it’s her go-to mood lifter. When she’s mad at me, like if I tell her she can’t do something, she cranks up that song and sings it in pure defiance.”
Tara winced. That was easy to imagine. Joey had a fiery spirit. “Sorry…?”
“Don’t be. I want her to speak up. She’s lucky to have you, T.” Levi’s voice was low, his tone serious. “We both are.”
He was looking at her the way he had earlier, as if his words held a deeper meaning. She averted her eyes, trying to calm those hopeful butterflies swarming inside her, and watched Joey chatting animatedly with her parents and Robert. “I’d do anything for her.” She looked at Levi. “She’s easy to love. You raised an amazing little girl who’s comfortable in her own skin and wins everyone over.”
His expression sobered. “Not quite everyone.”
“Don’t get me started on my sister,” she grumbled.
“I was thinking of those mean girls at school, but your sister fits, too. I know she loves Joey, but not like we do.”
The way he said we made her body tingle with the same intense energy she’d felt last night, like he was pulling her closer, only he wasn’t touching her. She opened her mouth to say she should go before she started spinning dangerous fairy tales in her head, but he cut her off.
“That was fun last night, wasn’t it?”
His tone was low, as if his words weren’t meant to be heard by others, and oh, what that did to her. “Yeah. I had a great time.”
“I always forget just how good a dancer you are until we’re out on a dance floor. It’s a lot different from when we dance with Joey in the living room.”
It always is.
“You pulled out all your best moves.”
Being in your arms brings out the best in me. “It must have been the wine or something.”
“Or something,” he said, low and sexy.
She was definitely losing it, because it sure sounded like he was flirting with her, and her stupid heart raced at what she swore was a flicker of heat in his eyes, as if he’d meant it exactly the way she wanted to take it. But that couldn’t be right. “I, um. I’d better go. I have to meet a client this morning.” She went to get her bags off the counter before she could misconstrue anything else. I will not break my resolution played like a mantra in her head.
“Are you leaving, jelly bean?” her father asked as she shouldered her bags.
“Yeah.” Before I start weaving tales of me and Levi k-i-s-s-i-n-g in a tree. “I need to get to my studio.” She put a hand on Joey’s back. “Can I get a hug goodbye, cutie patootie?”
Much to her grandmother’s dismay, Joey stood on her chair and hugged Tara. “I’m gonna miss you.”
It never got easier to say goodbye to her or Levi. “I’ll miss you, too, but we’ll text, okay?”
Joey’s beautiful freckled face brightened as she nodded.
“Make sure your daddy behaves.” She stole a teasing glance at Levi, but his eyes were still locked on her, like heat lamps burning up the space between them. Maybe Wells wasn’t so far off about someone drugging the water. Or maybe they’d slipped a hallucinogenic in the orange juice.
Joey giggled. “I will.”
As Joey lowered herself to her chair, Robert stood up and pulled Tara into a tight embrace. “Good to see you, sis. You look gorgeous, as always.”
He’d always been so good to her, sometimes she wondered why his and Carey’s praise hadn’t outweighed Amelia’s cutting comments. “Thanks. You’re not looking too shabby, either.” She eyed the pastries and reached for an éclair.
“Honey, wouldn’t you rather take some fruit?” her mother asked.
“Nope.” Tara took a big bite of her éclair and headed for the door.
“I’ll walk you out.” Levi fell into step with her and whispered, “Shall we escape into the pantry?”
She laughed as they stepped outside, thankful for the humor. “I’ll never hide again, but I’d like to put my mother in the pantry.” She took another bite of her éclair.
“Are you going to share that or what?”
“I don’t know,” she teased, stopping beside her car. “It’s awfully good. What do I get in return?”
His eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer, rasping, “You get to watch.”
He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, holding her gaze as he licked the cream from the center of the éclair. Her pulse skyrocketed. His tongue slid over her fingertips, and she held her breath, mesmerized as it took a slow, deep dip into the cream. His eyes turned dark as night, and he wrapped his lips around the éclair and took a bite, making a raw, guttural, excruciatingly sexy sound. Holy mother of hotness. She stumbled backward, dizzy with desire, but his arm swept around her before she hit the car, hauling her against him. The air rushed from her lungs. They were both breathing hard, hearts hammering, lips a whisper apart. His brows knitted, a battle of white-hot lust and restraint staring back at her. A voice in her head chanted, Kiss him. Just do it. Kiss him. As if he’d heard her thoughts, the edges of his lips quirked, and he tightened his hold on her just as the kitchen door swung open, and Joey ran out, startling them apart.
Tara grabbed her car to keep from falling over, turning her back to her family as they filed out of the house, and she tried to make sense of what had just happened.
“Dad! I’m gonna get my skateboard and show Grandpa some of my tricks!” Joey ran to Levi’s Durango.
“Great.” Levi stepped behind Tara and said, for her ears only, “Guess I still got it, and I didn’t even have to take my shirt off.”
He opened her car door for her, flashed a coy grin, and sauntered away without a backward glance.
She stuffed the rest of the éclair into her mouth to keep from snapping at the frustrating hunk of a man and climbed into her car. She fumed at herself as she drove away, trying desperately to clear the lust from her brain. But Lord help her. If he could steal her ability to think when he was playing some stupid game, what would it be like if he’d really meant it?