My Ex's Baby (Crescent Cove 8)

Ivy. Dear goddess.

I fumbled for my phone.

August hissed and cupped himself. Hopefully, I hadn’t injured anything important in my hurry.

Sorry, Mr. Wonderful. Seemed like the best name for August’s number one tool right now.

I didn’t want to answer the still chiming phone. Nope, I couldn’t answer it. No way.

I silenced the ring and pulled my dress up over my shoulder. My ankle buckled and August shot out a hand to steady me.

“Sorry. Just scared me.”

He shoved his hair back from his face. I wasn’t used to seeing it without his backwards cap. Then again, I only usually saw him in work mode. He was kind of like me, always working. We both pulled late nights at our respective shops.

What had I been thinking?

My thighs still throbbed from twining myself around his thick middle. So much muscle and layers of strength. And he’d felt so darn good.

Focus. My phone started ringing in my hand again. This time, it was a text chime. I flicked it open and found a barrage of text messages waiting for me.

Rylee: How much tequila did you drink? Do we have to fish you out of one of the bathrooms around town?

Ivy: Where are you? You’re missing cake.

Ivy: Seriously, where are you?

Kelsey: You’re missing all the dancing. Where you be?

LuckyCharms: Don’t make me get sober. Where are you?

Rylee: You ok? You’re harassing my buzz, girl.

Rylee: Oops. Harshing. Stupid AC.

Ivy: Don’t make me turn on the friend finder app.

I quickly typed back a message that I was coming. And I hadn’t been able to answer the phone because I was in the bathroom. Seemed safest. I kind of needed to find one of those, to be honest.

“Is there somewhere I can, you know…” I gestured at my disheveled self.

He nodded toward the left. “I think the main bathroom is actually done.”

“Great.” I snatched my coat off the bed.

“Kin?”

I stopped, turning toward him in the shadows. His ultra white shirt practically glowed in the moonlight. That and the endless bit of tanned skin underneath there were riveting. I couldn’t see him clearly, but the memories of him at the lake were burned in my brain already.

Now I could add this shadowy, hot, ridiculously decadent encounter to my memory banks.

Oh, sleepless nights, here I come.

“You’re not gonna get weird about this, right? We’re good?”

“Of course. Why would I get weird?” I’d just freak out instead. That wasn’t weird. Because I’d totally screwed up for the sake of an orgasm and maybe almost another. Okay, so there were definitely two, on the way to three. But I wasn’t counting. Mostly.

I escaped to the bathroom. He was right that it was mostly done, except for the whole no paper of any sort in there issue. Or towels. But I did what I could to get my clothes back to semi-presentable. One of the ties was frayed.