A Match for the Single Dad by Gina Wilkins - Bell Family 03 - A Match for the Single Dad

Author:Gina Wilkins - Bell Family 03 - A Match for the Single Dad [Wilkins, Gina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Romance
ISBN: 9780263901276
Google: kjEyWyLwbpoC
Amazon: B00BK0RLKQ
Barnesnoble: B00BK0RLKQ
Goodreads: 17277933
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2012-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

She had decorated her mobile home in sage and cream—soothing colors chosen for quiet relaxation. Yet she wasn’t at all relaxed when she led Garrett into her home. Every nerve ending still buzzed with awareness of him. He closed the door behind him with a solid click that she echoed with a hard swallow. She felt her fingers tremble—not with apprehension, but with anticipation. Despite her determination not to let things get out of hand with Garrett, not to complicate either his life or her own, they could have this, she assured herself. A little private time to enjoy each other, to savor their mutual attraction, to explore the chemistry between them. It didn’t have to lead to anything awkward or binding, might never happen again, for that matter, but they had tonight. It would be a shame if they wasted this rare, fleeting opportunity.

She’d left a lamp burning, and she didn’t bother to turn on any more lights. Garrett put a hand to the back of his neck and squeezed, looking a little uncertain. It really had been a while since he’d done anything like this, she thought with a slight smile. For some reason, she found herself gaining confidence in response to his hesitance.

“You look like a man who could use a good rubdown,” she said gravely, moving toward him. “I bet those poor neck and shoulder muscles are tied in knots.”

He dropped his hand, looking suddenly self-conscious. “Payton tends to do that to me,” he admitted, his tone wry. “It’s her special talent.”

She didn’t want to talk about his kids just now. Didn’t want him to think about anything or anyone outside these walls. Even if only for this one time.

Standing close in front of him, she slid a hand up his arm to his shoulder. “Just for tonight, let me be the one to undo it. I give a mean massage.”

“I’ll just bet you do.”

She tugged lightly at the sleeve of his T-shirt. “I could get to those knots more easily if this was out of the way.”

In one smooth move, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged upward, then tossed the shirt over the arm of a chair. The lamplight gleamed on his tanned skin, revealing the ridges of muscle and ribs and a scattering of dark hair that narrowed intriguingly down to the waistband of his shorts. A few interesting scars were visible, but didn’t detract from his appeal—just the opposite, in fact, as they added to the overall impression of virile masculinity. She would love to hear the story behind each one—but not now, she decided, pressing her palms to his chest to savor the heat and strength of him.

He rested his hands on her hips, and the hint of a tremor gave her a clue to the willpower it took for him to keep the contact light. “Where would you like to perform this miracle massage?” he asked, his voice a little huskier than usual.

Trailing one fingertip down the

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