Daddy in Disguise (Crescent Cove 7)

I swung the door open as I gathered the lapels of my robe together tightly. “Hey.”

Gideon’s gaze swept me quickly. I wasn’t sure if he was hard up or what. I was definitely not rocking an outfit to get that heated stare. I backed up, lifting my finger to my lips.

He tucked his hands into pockets, looked around the room and then backed up. “Shoes?”

I tried not to get gooey that he actually had enough manners to ask. “You’re good.”

He nodded and came in again. He smelled of paint and something with aerosol. Black and red spattered his white shirt and jeans, smudged his fingers, and dotted his beard.

I pressed my lips together. “Hard at work?” I whispered.

He looked down at himself. “Yeah. I texted you to bring her down, but you must have been in the shower.” He took a quick step closer. “If I wasn’t dirty as hell, I might ask what’s under the robe.”

“Wouldn’t that be the definition of dirty?”

His lips quirked in that almost smile of his. “Don’t tempt me to kiss you in front of my kid for a second time in the space of twelve hours.”

“She’s currently staring at the inside of her eyelids, so I think we’re ok.”

“So, I can steal a kiss?” He toyed with my purple belt.

“You smell like a paint can.”

“Hazards of the job. Especially when my client likes blood spatter and black everywhere.”

“Does that mean you’re getting closer to done?”

“Closer than we were yesterday.”

I huffed out a sigh. Ever the elaborator, that was Gideon. “Can I at least come over and see?”

“Nope.”

“You know I am technically the boss in this situation.”

His eyebrow hiked up toward his hairline, but he didn’t answer.

I glanced down at his attire. “Is that what I have to look forward to tonight?”

“I promise to shower.”

“No other details?”

“Nope.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that the date thing was a bad idea. We worked together, and Crescent Cove had a habit of playing cupid whether it was well-timed or not.

In fact, I probably should rethink the naked mamba part of things with him too. The law of averages was damning for any and all of the couples I knew.

Especially since he was obviously potent. The proof was ten feet away from us.

He lowered his mouth to the line of my jaw and tugged my towel free from my hair. It tumbled in a mass of dark ropes around my shoulders, the cold strands going right into the neck of my robe.

I shivered. Obviously because of my cold hair.

That was my damn story and I was sticking to it.

“I like the scent of you fresh from the shower. Then again, I like when you smell like coffee too.” He handed me the hair towel.