Brody’s heart squeezed in his chest when Tyler’s green eyes landed on his. The boy smiled, then his smile grew even wider when he glanced at Elisa.
“How’d they come out?” Elisa asked Tyler.
Tyler shifted the papers in his hand and showed them to her. “This one is kind of streaky but the others are pretty good.”
Elisa placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Don’t feel bad about that. I messed up a ton of photos when I first started.”
The woman was a natural nurturer. Her face softened and her pouty, full mouth turned up in a reassuring grin. She gave Tyler her undivided attention as they went over each photo.
Elisa handed one to Brody, letting her hand linger on his arm while her left did the reaching. “Didn’t he do a good job?” She asked the question as though both she and Tyler had been waiting for him to say something. How long had he been standing there just watching them?
He took the picture and allowed his fingers to brush along Elisa’s softer ones. Pure fire shot up his arm like a jolt of electricity. His brain did a pretty good job of trying to ignore the sensation, while other body parts had a mind of their own. Brody summoned his iron-clad willpower and forced his eyes to the photos. Never in his life would he have imagined his eleven-year-old son enjoying taking pictures.
Apparently not, given the ear-to-ear grin on Tyler’s face and the way he practically hopped from one foot to other with excitement. That was what astonished Brody the most—not the fact that the pictures were semigood. The activity Elisa had introduced to Tyler this afternoon had made an impression on the boy. Brody couldn’t remember the last time his son had been this enthusiastic about something.
Brody’s mouth turned up in a proud grin as he shuffled through the black-and-white pictures. “You took these all by yourself?” he asked after he’d found his voice.
Tyler shrugged a bony shoulder. “Well, Elisa helped me.”
Elisa placed an arm around the boy. “All I did was show him how to use the camera. After that it was all him.”
Brody held up the picture of the well. “Do you mind if I frame this one and put it in my office?”
“Sure.” Tyler took one of the photos out of Brody’s hands. “I want Elisa to have this one.”
She took the picture and gazed at it with a small smile. “That’s very nice of you, Tyler.”
Brody needed to get out of there before he started kissing the hell out of Elisa in front of his child. The urge was getting stronger and stronger, and he needed to eliminate the temptation altogether.
“Tyler, why don’t you get your stuff so we can go get some dinner?”
“Okay.” Tyler gathered his backpack from the front door and hugged Elisa good-bye. His long, skinny arms wrapped around Elisa’s narrow waist as though he didn’t want to let go. Hell, Brody knew the feeling.
“See you tomorrow, Tyler,” Elisa said as the boy opened the front door.
Brody stepped through after his son and turned to face the beautiful woman who had his guts tied in knots. The casual khaki pants and baby pink polo was just as sexy on her as the slacks and floral print blouse she’d had on the first day he met her. Her hair hung free over her shoulders and halfway down to her waist. The sight reminded him of those cartoon mermaids who had nothing to cover their bare breasts except their long hair. He took a step closer to her just as an image of water cascading over her hair and down her bare breasts invaded his mind.
“Dad, I’m hungry.”
The words spoken behind him were like a bucket of ice-cold water thrown over his head. Nothing like the presence of his son to pull him back to reality.
“Is something on your mind?” Elisa asked in that soft, bedroom voice of hers.
“Uh, no,” Brody managed to get out without making a complete ass of himself. He’d come close to doing that too many times around her. “I just wanted to thank you for taking him out today.”
Her face softened again and her mouth spread into a grin. “It’s always a pleasure with him. Are we still on for tomorrow to take pictures?”
She was supposed to take pictures? Of what?
Elisa straightened from the door. “You still want to do the shoot, right?”
Oh, the restaurant. He was supposed to be concerned with saving the place, and all he could think about was mermaids and Elisa’s hair. He was in trouble.
“Yeah,” he muttered like an idiot. “But I think tomorrow is too soon. I’d like Anthony to work in a kitchen a bit more before I dump this on him. Let’s shoot for next week.”
And that will give me plenty of time to be around you and hear your beautiful voice. You know, basically be obsessive.
“Dad…” Tyler’s once-patient voice had taken on the quality of a four-year-old’s whine.
Brody glanced at Tyler over his shoulder. “I’m coming. Thanks again,” he said to Elisa.
“My pleasure,” she said in a low voice. Her tongue swiped across her lower lip, leaving it sinfully moist and kissable.
This time he gave in to his urge to touch her. Her smooth skin had been calling out to him all day. Would it be as soft as it looked? To answer those burning questions, Brody skimmed the back of his index finger just along the edge of her jaw. His suspicions were right. He hadn’t felt anything that soft since Tyler was born. His satisfaction piqued when her teeth stabbed into her lower lip. To get even more of a reaction out of her, his finger journeyed up her cheek then tucked some hair behind her ear. If her skin had been soft, then her hair was even softer. Like spun silk sifting through his fingers.
Intensely aware of his son marching toward the car only several feet behind him, Brody dropped his hand and walked away without saying a word to her. Maybe tonight her dreams would be just as torturous as his had been since he’d met her.
Even after ten minutes and after putting considerable distance between him and the forbidden fruit, Brody still couldn’t calm his raging hard-on. What’s worse is that he was trying to adjust himself while his son sat, without the faintest clue, in the car seat next to him. This was definitely a new low.
He might as well come out and say “Hey, son, I want to screw your babysitter.”
His knuckles ached and turned white as he wrapped his hand tighter around the leather steering wheel. Brody came to a stop at a red light and glanced at Tyler. The boy sat quietly in his seat, staring out the window. He reminded Brody so much of himself at that age; the similarities almost frightened him.
Tyler was a quiet boy but also a deep thinker. He’d never been one to rush a decision or fly by the seat of his pants. Even selecting a candy bar at the store took him longer than a typical person. Those qualities ran strong in Brody. Take his divorce, for example. It had taken him over a year to decide he’d wanted to end his marriage.
All the time he’d been spending at work was having a negative effect on their relationship. Was that why Brody always felt a strange void between them? He hoped to God his only child didn’t resent him. Living with the knowledge that Kelly had resented him all those years was bad enough. He’d moved her far away from her family, to a town she’d never been to, and in return he’d drowned himself in work and hadn’t been a good enough husband. She’d given up a lot for him so he could work, and he’d been emotionally distant.
Brody eased off the brake when the light turned green. He glanced at Tyler again. “What did you do at school today?” Is that the best you can come up with? Why don’t you ask him about the weather next time?