Pippa and I fell into the goddamn pool. When I surface from the water, my daughter’s shrieking with laughter.
“You were supposed to give me directions,” I tell Pippa, who’s standing a few feet away from me in the water and laughing even harder than Julie.
“I was,” she explains between chuckles. “And I somehow directed both of us into the pool. I’m sorry. I was too busy making sure the kite didn’t end up in a tree to pay attention to our feet.”
I break into laughter too, and man, it feels good. Julie looks between Pippa and me as if we’re two big idiots—which, of course, we are. Two grown adults up to their navels in the swimming pool because they didn’t watch their step. Damn kite. Which reminds me….
“Anyone see the kite?” I ask.
Julie points to a spot beyond the pool. “There. It’s high up in the tree, though.”
“I’ll get it down tomorrow,” I assure her.
"I don't know about you," Pippa says, "but I'm cold." She swims to the steps. I suck in a breath as she climbs out. Sweet Jesus. Pippa in a wet dress is irresistible. It sticks to her body, showing off every delicious curve: her round, perky ass, her waist, and beautiful breasts. My imagination supplies images of all the other delicious parts of her that are not on display. Images so vivid that I have a full-on boner. Damn it.
"Aren't you coming out?" Pippa says, swirling around to me.
Her blonde hair clings to her translucent skin, and bless her, she's so unaware of what she's doing to me that she's not even bothering to hide her body. My daughter joins Pippa at the edge of the pool, a curious expression on her face.
"Why aren't you coming out, Dad?"
"I'll be out in a minute," I inform them, looking away from Pippa to try to calm the situation in my boxers. Numbers. Yeah. If I think about the sales reports I was reading before I left my office today that should work. Except it doesn't. My dick twitches with awareness just knowing Pippa is a few feet away. Okay, think, Eric. Think. I need Pippa to know what’s going on, so she can leave my sight. That's the only way I'll calm down. But I can't exactly spell out the reason with my daughter here.
"Bones," I blurt out. "Some of my bones hurt. The water helps."
Julie raises her eyebrows. “You’re not making sense, Dad.” Of course not. I’m trying to bullshit my way out of this. I’m the worst father in the world.
Pippa looks crestfallen. Come on, Pippa. Adult code. Replace the s with an r. She continues to stare at me questioningly, so clearly she’s not getting it.
“There’s some wood here in the water. I’ll pick it up.” Wood. Come on, Pippa. Finally, her eyes widen in understanding, as Julie says, “I think Dad hit his head when he fell in the pool.”
Pippa giggles, then tells Julie, “Let’s you and I go inside. I'm cold and I need a towel."
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About Layla Hagen: I fell in love with books when I was nine years old, and my love affair with stories continues even now, many years later. I write romantic stories and can’t wait to share them with the world. And I drink coffee. Lots of it Connect with Lyla: Website: https://twitter.com/laylahagen Facebook: https://facebook.com/LaylaHagenBooks/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/laylahagen
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