The Godparent Trap

“Like slip-and-slide fun?” I had to ask.

His eyes darkened. “There is sliding involved.”

A shiver ran through my entire body as he put the car in drive, and for the rest of the night, even through dinner with two kids, all I could think about was sliding.

Sliding with Rip.

And our bodies sliding against each other.

And I could have sworn he knew it too, because before I went to bed, he left a bottle of oil outside my door with a note that said, “Sweet dreams.”

If that was how he wanted to play it.

Game. On.

I wasn’t surprised when I brushed my teeth before bed and saw my reflection in the mirror.

Flushed.

Excited.

Yeah, that plan had definitely backfired. There I’d been, arrogantly thinking I was going to help him get outside his crabby shell—and he’d thrown my world off its axis and made it so all I thought about was him—and the sides he’d never shown me.

Until tonight.