Mara abruptly hops off my lap. She runs to the back door and points excitedly at the glass. “It’s Trentcassini!”
Every muscle in my body tenses. “Where?”
“Outside. He’s talking to Uncle Danny.” She pulls on the doorknob but there’s a safety lock high beyond her reach.
“Hold on.” I walk over and flip the lock for her. Caitlin is now also in a hurry to get outside and they both jostle against me with impatience.
“Jackets first,” I caution before I’ll allow them to pass.
Caitlin sticks out her lower lip. “It’s not cold out. I bet it’s warm enough to swim in the lake.”
“Sweetie, it’s definitely not warm enough to swim in the lake.”
“But it’s still not cold out,” she argues.
She’s not exactly wrong. The weather turned yesterday and we’re in the middle of a short-lived spell of pleasant temperatures. The ice has all melted and there is a promising taste of spring in the air. Even if it won’t last for long, it’s a much needed break from the heaviness of winter.
I give in and out they go.
Caitlin is hampered by her bag of dolls so Mara beats her across the yard. Danny laughs and holds his arms out, swinging her up high in a way that causes my stomach to drop. Mara shrieks with delight.
“I want to be thrown too,” Caitlin declares. She pitches her dolls down on the dead grass and tugs on her uncle’s shirt.
“Careful, Danny,” I warn.
He tosses Caitlin up in the air and catches her neatly. Mara begs for another turn and I have to smile over their excitement. The twins do love their uncle, even if they view him as more of a playmate than an authority figure.
Meanwhile, Trent has knelt down to pick up the fallen dolls. He’s not as polished today. Instead of being neatly combed in a pricey button down shirt, he’s wearing a black hooded sweatshirt with faded jeans and looks as hearty as if he just finished running down a mountain.
I can grudgingly confess that Trent looks excellent no matter his style but I like him better like this. He straightens up and stares right at me. A shiver crawls up my spine.
Every day since the funeral I’ve seen Trent around but aside from exchanging a few polite nods we haven’t really talked. I’m not often at a loss for words nor am I timid about confronting any guy, hot or not, but I don’t know what to say to the man who used to be the boy down the street now that I’ve wrapped my legs around his waist and tried to devour his tongue.
Something in my face must have given away my thoughts because Trent’s mouth pulls into a smirk.
“You hungry?” Danny calls to me. “Trent bought over a ton of stuff from the butcher shop over on Mill. The grill still works and the gas is connected. I tested it yesterday.”
I tear my eyes away from Danny’s best friend. “You really want to grill? It’s February.”
“So? It’s good weather.”
I lift my shoulders in a shrug. “Sure.” I haven’t made a meal plan for today anyway.
Caitlin snatches her dolls back from Trent. “Did you bring hamburgers?” she asks him.
He nods. “Angus beef quarter pounders.”
She appears to be satisfied. “Do you want to play with us in the castle?”
“Maybe later,” he says and pretends to capture her nose.
Caitlin laughs.
Mara begs ‘Trentcassini’ to take her nose as well.
The girls have unofficially adopted Trent as a long lost member of the family. The memory of how Caitlin asked Trent if he might be her father still makes me wince. I’ve already asked the lawyer who drew up Jules’s will if we should worry about a surprise custody challenge from parties unknown. The lawyer, who had also been our father’s estate attorney, said he couldn’t guarantee anything, but Jules left no mention of the twins’ biological father and no reason to believe any custody challenges would be forthcoming.
That was both a relief and a sadness.
A relief because I’d fight the devil himself for my little nieces. And a sadness because I’ll never have the answer to a question that will undoubtedly haunt them in the years to come.
Danny opens the door to the carriage house so the twins can access their castle. He shouts a question about the possible whereabouts of grilling utensils. Though I have no clue if Jules even owned any, I’m ready to escape the scrutiny of Trent’s piercing gaze for a moment.
“I’ll go look,” I offer.
Trent doesn’t miss a beat. “And I’ll help.” He ignores the rather flustered glance I send him before marching into the house after me.
I’m still not clear on what he’s doing in Lake Stuart. My understanding is that he’s able to run his Florida-based real estate company remotely but I don’t know much else because I get my information from Danny and Danny tends to be unconcerned with details like regular jobs.
Trent’s heavy footsteps plod right behind me and I try to dismiss the suspicion he’s staring at my ass.
“You can search the kitchen,” I toss over my shoulder and break for the dining room.
A china cabinet that used to display antiques but now primarily exhibits the twins’ artwork seems an unlikely place to discover grilling tools. However, I start opening drawers because I’m sure not going back to the kitchen while he is in there. The kitchen is too small a space to share with Trent Cassini when I’m in the middle of a flashback.
I moaned into his mouth. I tried to ride his hand.
Fuck.
A random linen table napkin gets picked up and squeezed into a ball, a futile attempt to crush the intense physical attraction I can’t escape from.
“No luck.”
It’s a mystery how he crept up behind me in those hiking boots. The sound of his voice shouldn’t be a lust trigger but it is and I feel my thigh muscles tighten even before I turn around.
Easily six foot two, Trent fills the doorway and leans one thick arm against the frame, as if he’s demonstrating that he could keep me boxed in at his discretion. His sweatshirt does little to hide the fact that he’s stacked with more muscle than any ordinary businessman has a right to be and again I wonder about him.
Who he is now.
What he likes.
How he fucks.
STOP!!!
Trent waits for my inner monologue to quit running.
“Thanks for checking,” I tell him, dropping the napkin and proceeding to open random drawers in order to hide the blush that surely gives me away.
He doesn’t budge. “I can keep on looking.”
“All right.” I open a drawer and find candles. I open another one and find…more candles. “You can look in the living room if you want.”
“Where do you sleep?” he asks.
Trent is still posed in the doorway. I search his face in an effort to figure out what he’s really asking. He stares back at me, waiting for an answer.
“In the master suite on the first floor. But I’m sure there are no grilling tools in there.”
“Didn’t think there would be. I just wanted to know where you sleep.”
I open another drawer filled with candles. They seem to be multiplying of their own free will. Slowly, I shut the drawer and give him my full attention.
“I thought you said you don’t flirt, Trent.”