The Millionaire Affair (Love in the Balance 3)

A lifetime.

He abandoned the art board and his briefcase, chucking his jacket over a chair. Then he dove in to the box, eating one slice, and a second, pausing only long enough to scrub his mouth with a paper towel between big, greedy bites. He never would have found pizza in the house when he’d dated Lissa. “Cursed carbs” were strictly off her diet. He hadn’t thought giving up pizza had been that big of a deal. After inhaling two slices, though… Lord have mercy.

He laid waste to a third piece, dug a bottle of water out of the fridge, and guzzled it down. Then he tracked through the house to find his nephew. What was with the lack of welcome home tonight? He was early and neither Lyon nor Kimber were anywhere to be seen. They wouldn’t have gone somewhere without telling him, would they?

But then he heard them. His nephew’s laughter punctuated by Kimber’s mid-range ha-ha-ha. Landon followed the sound through the hallway, to the right… and straight to his own bedroom.

Lyon giggled, a sound of pure joy, and Landon felt the pressure from the week melt off him. Not wanting them to hear him coming, he toed his shoes off and stepped lightly on the hardwood floor.

“You look silly!” Lyon said, erupting again.

“Do I?” Kimber.

“Fix mine.” Lyon.

What were they doing?

“Okay, here. Wait. Wow. I used to know how to do this. I used to be really good at it. If you don’t use it you lose it, right?”

Landon crept to the door frame, not wanting to interrupt but too curious not to poke his head in on them.

“What’s that mean?” Lyon asked. The kid was a master of questioning everything. Would make an excellent lawyer someday.

“It means if I don’t practice tying ties, then I forget how to tie them. Even though you never forget how to ride a bike,” she murmured to herself. “Or how to play Euchre.”

Landon smiled at her logic. Illogical logic.

“What’s Euchre?” Lyon asked. On second thought, the kid might make a better game show host.

“A card game.”

“Can we play?”

“Let’s finish this up first,” she answered.

Landon gave himself up and peered around the door frame. Kimber and his nephew were seated on the floor, each of them wearing one of Landon’s shirts. Lyon had on a blue oxford and she wore a dry-clean-only white. A slow, stupid smile spread across his face at the scene he’d just walked in on.

“Uncle Landon! Check it out.” Lyon stood, then held his arms to his sides to show off his duds.

Kimber rose slower, looking a little chagrined… and gut-clenching sexy. A pair of black plastic glasses rested on her nose, and a tie around her neck was twisted into the most hopeless knot imaginable.

Lyon straightened his matching pair of glasses, too big for his face.

“Who are you dressed as?” Landon leaned on the door frame and crossed his arms, studying Lyon’s glasses, shirt, and not-quite-right necktie. Had his nephew dressed like him? Something welcome unfurled in the center of his chest.

“We’re Clark Kent!” Lyon pulled his shirt open to reveal his Superman pajamas.

Landon nodded his understanding. Kimber gave him a sheepish grin and pulled her shirt open, revealing a red “S” made of construction paper she’d pinned between her small, but amazing, breasts.

“Kimber says we’re doing it right even though this didn’t happen in Man of Steel,” Lyon said.

“A purist,” Landon said, keeping his eyes on her.

“Through and through,” she mumbled, not quite meeting his gaze.

Lyon wrestled with his tie… which more resembled Jacob’s ladder than a double Windsor. “Want me to fix it?”

“No. I’m done doing this.” He pried the tie and shirt off and dropped them onto the floor before running down the hall, faster than a speeding bullet, to the living room. “I have to go watch Man of Steel!”

“Hey, you left—” Landon called after him. He stopped short at the feel of Kimber’s fingers brushing his arm.

“It’s okay, I’ll get it.” She bent to gather the discarded play clothes—his actual work clothes—from the floor. “Sorry about this.” She gestured with the clothes in her hands. “Kind of invaded your space.”

She was nervous. Adorable. She plucked the glasses off her nose and slid them into her hair. It was down today, in soft waves tickling her shoulders. When she screwed her eyes up at him, she looked small and guilty.

“You don’t know how to tie a tie.” He unfolded his arms and pushed off the door frame where he’d been leaning. As he went to work unraveling it, his fingers brushed her neck every so often. Her skin was so soft. Memories of last night, of the taste of her lips, the way she’d ridden him fully clothed, tightened his next breath.