Page 57 of Fall Over You

He heads for the door and my body screams in his wake.

“Tyler.”

He turns in my doorway, cast in profile by the hallway moonlight. How could a man possibly look that gorgeous? “Yeah?”

I shake my head and grin while my whole face heats. “It’s not enough.”

He glances pointedly at the tent in his pants. “I know.” We both laugh, and god, there’s that fucking smile again.

I lift a shoulder and smirk. “I can help with that sort of thing, you know.”

He bites his bottom lip harder and groans, bending backward to look at the ceiling. “Trouble. Every damn time, you’re trouble.”

“It’s kinda my thing.” I wink at him and he rolls his eyes with a face-splitting smile.

“Night, Reba.”

“Night, Ty.”

TWENTY-THREE

TYLER

Dad’s office chair spins when I enter the garage, his hands folded in his lap. “Where in the heck have you been?”

I feel like I’m sixteen again and two minutes past my curfew. “Taking Ellie to school?” I say. “Why?”

He purses his lips. “How did I beat you in here this morning? All the lights were off.”

I search for an answer and go for the truth. Well, part of it. “There’s a leak upstairs so we’re staying somewhere else for a little bit.”

His brow knits. “A leak? Where?”

I shrug. “Just in the ceiling.” I can see that isn’t going to cut it. “In the bathroom.”

“Where are you staying? You know you’re always welcome at home.”

“I know. We’ve got somewhere to go. We’re fine.” I start looking through the jobs on deck for the day, hoping he’ll move on.

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain chicken and pumpkin farmer, would it?”

I freeze but refuse to face him. “Huh?”

“Little bird told me Becca’s been getting Ellie from school.”

“Yeah, she’s helping out with El,” I say casually, but my neck is red and my heart is pounding. “You know how good she is with kids.”

“I do,” Dad croons. “I’ve been trying to tell you Becca’s a sweetheart.”

I grunt, trying not to give anything away.

Like the fact that I had Becca’s ass in my hands last night and her tongue in my mouth. And that my stomach jumps whenever I think of how good she felt after years of dancing around each other. Of her tiny moan when I put my hand across her pretty throat. Of how I had to stop kissing her or I was at a high risk of blowing a load into my pajama pants just from a kiss.

I made it to my room, but it was a narrow escape. The impact of my lengthy dry spell is really starting to show.

I turn and lean my butt against the counter, still flipping through tickets for the day. “Yeah. Been meaning to ask you, actually. If I needed you to watch Ellie tonight, could you?”

“And miss line dancing night?” he asks.