The Truth

“Stand up and put your hands on your head,” Daniel instructs, barely breathing heavily.

I’d rather not move, but I do as he says, standing up and lifting my arms. I’m rewarded with additional oxygen, but the real treat is that Daniel is looking at me with care, obviously concerned but more than a little distracted by the lift this pose gives my breasts.

Once I’m breathing easily again, I sit down on the bench. It’s nice when Daniel sits down next to me, watching the river.

“We used to come here to play,” Daniel says after a moment, and I follow his eyes to our left, where a family is playing by the edge of the river. “Elle used to love to ‘go fishing’. Not real fishing, of course. Elle didn’t want to hurt the fish. But she had a stick that was her pole, a length of string, and I bought a real bobber to put on it. Took a little playing with a small weight at the end, but I got it to work.”

“How old was she?”

“Maybe six or seven at the time,” Daniel says, sighing. “Long ago. Sometimes it seems like only yesterday that it was only me and Elle, and now she’s got a baby of her own. Hard to reconcile that.”

I nod in understanding, but I’ve got a bit of a different point of view on things. “She’s all grown up, trust me. I know how much of a juvenile delinquent she was and how narrowly she escaped death a time or two, but she’s definitely a different person now. We’re all adults here.”

It’s a baby step reminder to cut off one of the arguments I know is already playing out in his mind. “And Elle wants us all to be as happy as she and Colton are.”

I’m planting a seed with my comment, hoping it takes root. But while I’m not exactly blessed with a green thumb, any plant-momma will tell you that seeds don’t grow overnight. They have to be treated with TLC, watered and fed, and gently pruned to be their best.

I want that with Daniel . . . even if that means things get thorny at some point.

“Come on, let’s finish our run. I’m feeling better, so I think I can even up the pace a bit if you can?” It’s a hollow challenge at best, but one I know he’ll take.

His eyes narrow as he scans me. “I think I can probably go a little faster.”

It might be my imagination, but I’m not entirely sure he’s talking about our run pace anymore.

Shit, I hope that’s true because I’m ready to go as fast as Cammie does—right back to his place, where I can tackle him to the bed and have my way with him.

We take off back toward his condo, and I push myself until I’m breathing hard again, but it feels better this time. Less erratic gasping and more measured with my footfalls.

As we approach the building, and without a word of warning, I take off in a sprint. “Beat you inside,” I call back, grinning. I’m pleased with myself for about two seconds before fast footsteps slap the ground behind me as Daniel catches up faster than I expected. But I get the win, reaching forward to touch the door a half-step ahead of him.

“You play dirty,” he teases, not winded at all as he jogs by my side.

“Yep,” I pant out.

“Then you should learn to stick to your bets,” he teases, suddenly placing his hand over mine on the handle and yanking the door open. He pauses, a glint in his eyes, giving me the second I need to replay exactly what I said.

Fuck! I said, ‘beat you inside’, not to the door or building.

I think he’s going to let me win and go to take a step inside, but he cuts me off to hop inside the building first. “I win.”

I glare at him standing just inside the doorway, his little ‘happy wiggle’ one part cute and two parts annoying. “Huh, I really thought I was gonna get you there at the end,” I say accusingly. “For someone who said I played dirty, that was a dirty trick.”

Luckily, I’ve got some tricks of my own. I implement one I’ve already used with some success, putting my hands on my head with my elbows splayed wide to give my lungs room to stretch out again and taking a few deep breaths.

Daniel laughs but notices and sobers before saying huskily, “I didn’t say that I don’t play dirty too.”

Ah, hell, maybe I’m not the spider?

Either way, spider or fly, things just got a lot dirtier and a lot more interesting.

Chapter 7

Daniel

Heading into the office on Mondays is usually a simple part of my routine—wake up, hit the gym for a quick round of weights, chug a green smoothie for breakfast, dress in a suit, and drive to the office.