She shows up every day in a different pair of overalls, typically with her feet bare, but after seeing her professional side online, there’s a part of me that feels privileged that Max and I get the lesser-known side of Miller, no matter how wild it may be.
She likes my son. My son likes her, and that makes me like her just a bit more.
After my last start on the road, I lied about not needing to cool down from the game. This time, I can’t. I pitched into the seventh inning tonight and my shoulder is screaming. I doubt I’ll be able to pick up Max with my throwing arm tomorrow.
Heading to the top floor of our hotel in Houston, I grab a couple of towels and make my way outside to the rooftop pool, needing to get a few laps in to cool down my muscles. It’s late, after midnight, and the pool is closed to the public, but it’s never stopped me before. I live for the peace of a solo swim after a game.
Only tonight, I’m not alone.
Steam from the neighboring hot tub rises behind her, but she sits with her feet dangling in the pool. It’s a warm July night, and the summer moon provides just enough light to outline her. Miller in a two-piece suit. A strapless forest green piece of fabric covers her chest, and her bottoms are pulled up so high over her hips, every inch of her thighs that I like so much are exposed.
She’s fucking stunning, all earth tones and tattooed skin glistening under the moonlight.
Opening the gate, I make plenty of noise so she knows she’s no longer alone.
“Breaking and entering, Rhodes? Not very responsible of you.”
“Maybe I’ve got a wild streak you don’t know about.”
She chuckles a hearty laugh. “Yeah. Okay.”
Little does she know, pre-dad Kai was as wild as her.
“I figured you’d be in your room looking for inspiration in one of those cookbooks you’re traveling with.”
She nods towards the summer moon sitting just above the city line in the distance. “This feels pretty inspirational.”
She’s not wrong. It’s stunning out here.
Both the view and the girl I shouldn’t be looking at.
I drop my towels onto a nearby lounge chair and in my periphery, I watch Miller as she begins to stand, pulling her legs out of the water, my eyes wandering every inch of that wet skin.
“Where are you going?”
She gestures to the hotel. “Giving you the pool. I figured you’d want it to yourself.”
“You should stay.”
Okay . . . I have no idea why I suggested that.
She hesitates, but doesn’t answer me. Simply retakes her seat, her red-painted toes dipping back into the water.
Pulling my shirt over my head, I toss it on the chair before adjusting the waistband on my trunks. I catch Miller’s greens taking their time tracking every ridge of my stomach and chest from across the pool, only the glow of the lights under the water allowing me to see it happen.
It’s been so long. So fucking long since I’ve noticed a woman’s attention on me. So long since I’ve been looked at in a way that makes me feel like a man and not just someone’s dad. I preen under her gaze, my chest expanding from the attention.
“You have tattoos.” It’s a statement, but her voice holds a bit of surprise in the tone.
Looking down at my ribs and thigh, I note the ink she’s studying.
“I always thought you were judging me for mine.”
Fuck. Was I? Maybe I did, but it wasn’t that she had tattoos or a septum ring or anything about the way she looked. I assumed if a woman were to ever watch my son, she’d be a sweet old lady with a knack for crafts and gardening. I didn’t expect a foul-mouthed firecracker who’s also a badass in the kitchen.
“Nah. I like yours. They suit you.”
Miller’s lips tick.
“Drinking at 9 a.m., though? I was judging you for that.”
She chuckles and her raspy laugh is the last thing I hear before I dive headfirst into the deep end of the pool. I swim across the length to the shallow end where she sits before popping out of the water to find myself a foot or so in front of her, raking a hand through my hair to move it from my face.
“Dear God, Kai. No wonder you have a kid. Just looking at you like this would get any woman pregnant.”
I huff a laugh. “Let’s not joke about anyone getting pregnant again, please. I’m doing a terrible job raising one. I couldn’t handle another.”
She sits up straighter. “What are you talking about?”
It’s too late to get into that conversation. I’m too tired. Too sore. My mind is too exhausted to think of anything other than loosening my shoulder and falling into bed. I’ll have to be up with Max in a handful of hours, but Miller’s dark green bathing suit, wet and suctioned to every crevice of her body, has me eager to pull an all-nighter just to stare at her.