Bed felt so lovely. Iris snuggled down under the clean-scented sheets, feeling more at home than she had in weeks. Not the sterile, impersonal ambiance of a hotel room, and not the bumps and road noise from the bus tires. A real bed in a real home. She and Abby had sat by the pool and chatted for an hour, the wine flowing easily. Now her head swam a little bit, but sleep should come quickly.

Or so she thought. Her phone lit up, its brightness discernible even through her closed eyelids. Iris reached to the night stand and picked it up, squinting at the message.

Elijah.

I’m in the pool. Where are you?

She sat up, clenching her eyes shut and opening them again, resetting them because obviously she was seeing things.

But those words were still there.

I’m in bed, she wrote back. Shouldn’t you be?

Needed to unwind. You should join me.

Why?

Why not?

She sat in bed for a long time, staring at her phone, pondering her choices. Then she realized her bedroom was on the second story on the back of the house. It should have a nice view of the pool below. Tossing back her covers, she got to her feet and tiptoed across the plush carpet to the window—why the heck was she tiptoeing? It wasn’t as if he could hear her. Shaking her head, she pulled the blackout drapes back a few inches and peered down.

Indeed, she could make out his darker silhouette in the blue glow of the water, lounging near the side, his phone in his hands. As she looked, his head lifted, and he stared right at her. Iris dropped the curtain, nearly in a panic.

I see you, he texted a moment later. You’re tempted. Come on down. The water’s great. The rest of the house is in bed. I have the wine you and Mom didn’t finish.

But I’m tired. Her heart thudded madly. Tired was suddenly the last thing she was. Adrenaline coursed madly through her veins.

I don’t want to swim laps, Iris.

What did he want? The man was driving her crazy. “Sara,” she muttered to herself, closing her messages and thumbing her way to her contacts. “Help.”

Her best friend answered right away with a squeal of delight. “You’ve finally quit rubbing elbows with the rich and famous long enough to remember us little people?”

“Help me. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Sara immediately sobered, but her tone still implied she thought she might hear something juicy. “What’s going on?”

“You know I can’t say much.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“But, um . . . the kids I watch? I work for the mom, right, but there’s a dad in this equation too, and I think something might be going on here.”

“Oh shit, Iris. Are you shitting me? You’re shitting me.”

“I think I— God, I don’t know!” Cringing at her own outburst, she lowered her voice and repeated, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Okay, so back up. What are you doing? Something made you call me at this very moment at this time of night.”

“He wants me to go to the pool with him. Just us. Kids in bed, private residence. No one around. Things have been kind of weird between us. Kind of . . . flirty? I don’t know.”

“I’m not even going to ask how this situation has come about, because I know you won’t tell me anyway.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re seriously asking me for advice?”

“Yes. Give me advice that you know is best for me.”

“That isn’t what you want, Iris, or you wouldn’t have called me. You want me to tell you to go fuck that man’s brains out. Because you know that’s what I’ll say.”

“Even if it could put my job, my very future in this industry, in jeopardy?”

“How? Only if the mom finds out, right? And why would she care? I assume they’re divorced or we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I know you’re not that bad.”

“They’re divorced. But still, he should be off-limits as my boss’s ex-husband. There are ethical boundaries at play here.”

“Fuck ethics. I still say go enjoy yourself. Hopefully this dude can erase all memory of fuckstick.” Fuckstick was her pet name for Jacob.

“How can I face everyone if I do this?”

“With your head held high and a giant shit-eating grin?”

“If the mom finds out, I’m so fired. I’ll be out of these kids’ lives. It would break my heart.”

“Iris, I think you’re missing the bigger picture here.”

“What?”

“Make the dad fall head over heels for you, then no matter what, you’re in those kids’ lives.”

Never in a million years would that happen. She knew it deep down, but still the idea set off a swarm of giddy butterflies in her belly. “But I could get fired by the mom and dumped by the dad, and then what?”

“Well, we take our chances, don’t we?”

“God.”

“You want him. Right? You totally want him.”

Iris drew a deep breath, exhaled it slowly. “I want him.” And you want him too, Sara, he’s your rock husband, she added silently, but she was dealing with so many moral dilemmas right now that she couldn’t stress over Sara’s crush on Eli on top of everything else. Even with it, she knew her friend would give Iris her full blessing.

“Then go see if he can make you call him Daddy.”

“Sara!”

“And Iris? Communicate. You’re a modern woman. Go for what you want, but if he’s not okay with any of your boundaries, then forget him. I hope I’ve taught you well.”

“You taught me well, but I don’t know how much of it I’ve absorbed.”

“I’ve done all I can do. The rest is up to you. Make me proud. I hope you took a bikini. I want a full report as soon as you can.” With that, Sara hung up.

Bikini, Iris thought. Yes, she had a bikini. The one Talia had bought her. If she dared to wear that piece of floss.

––––––––

ELI WASN’T MUCH OF a wine drinker, but his mother had good taste. He took a swig of the expensive Cabernet Sauvignon, then leaned his head back on the edge of the pool and stared up the moon. It peered down like a wide-open all-seeing eye, brilliant enough to obliterate all but the brightest stars in the velvety black sky.

Give him a float and he would happily sleep out here. He was looking forward to getting the kids and Iris out on the water as soon as they had some coastal dates.

And Iris.

In a very short amount of time, she had become a part of their unit. He could scarcely think about his sons without thinking of her too. And her eyes. And her smile.

Inviting her out here tonight had made him feel like a naughty teenager again, sneaking out of his parents’ house to see someone he knew he shouldn’t. Except he knew his parents would be overjoyed for him to be with someone like her. His mom had all but said it tonight after Iris had gone to her room to get ready for bed.

“About time you brought me a sweet one, Eli.” He’d laughed it off, but he hadn’t denied it. She was sweet, and she was lovely, and goddamn, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head.

Especially since she’d executed a perfect ambush on him in laser tag tonight. He’d wanted to grab her then and topple her to the floor.

He hadn’t laughed so much in a very, very long time.

Soft footfalls reached him, so quiet he thought for a moment he’d imagined them. Until he raised his head and saw her.

She stood silently at the edge of the pool, reminding him of her impressive stealth tactics tonight, and he swallowed hard.

Gone was the modest black swimsuit he’d seen her in a few times. Now . . .

Her hair tumbled loose and wild around her slim shoulders, which were almost silvery in the moonlight’s kiss. Her bikini top was some light color, an insubstantial thing that would fall away with one tug of a string. Around her hips she’d wrapped a sarong, but it sat low and offered an ample view of her belly and the shadowed dimple of her navel.

A wild, almost irresistible urge seized him, to explore every inch of that skin with his hands. His mouth. Lay her out and fucking feast on her. But he couldn’t do that. She wasn’t for a quick lay. “Glad you came,” he said, hearing the strain in his own voice.

Demurely, she stepped forward, extended a shapely leg, and dipped her toe in the water. “Ooh, that is nice,” she said, and he thought he detected a little strain in her voice as well.

“Come on in.”

He watched as she unwound her cover, revealing the perfect, slender proportions of her hips, then stepped down into the water. There was nothing voluptuous about Iris; hers was a serene beauty, with those slight feminine curves he would be able to hold in one hand. Fuck, but he wanted to test out that theory, see how perfectly she fit to him. He was kind of sorry, kind of glad when she submerged herself in the water, taking those curves out of his sight. He liked looking at her, but should he need to get out of the water in a hurry for any reason, he might have some explaining to do.

Iris leaned her head back to wet down her hair, then swam over to him, keeping a safe distance between them as she folded her arms on the side of the pool. Her eyes alighted on the bottle of wine, and he silently poured her a glass and slid it over to her.

“Didn’t figure you for much of a wine drinker,” she said, taking a sip. “But this is so good.”

“I’m not, but you’re right. Good stuff.”

“You probably like something a little harder, huh?”

“I was never much of a drinker at all,” he said, struggling not to let his mind drift back on dark times. No, he’d had his vices, but alcohol had never been a major one.

She seemed to recognize the little edge of turmoil in those words, sipping in silence for a moment. “I really love your parents,” she said at last. “You’re lucky.”

“I am. I know it. We didn’t always have it easy, but we always had love.”

“That’s more than a lot of kids have.”

He’d never enjoyed this part of relationships. The feeling each other out, questing for information while trying not to verge on off-limits territory. Iris definitely had those hidden, inaccessible places in her soul. He’d heard the hollow ring in her words just now.

He was supposed to be the tortured rock star. And yeah, he did have a lot of shit he worked out on stage. Every night, in front of thousands of people, he let his demons out to play. What lurked in her psyche that she had to keep bottled up? What were her dreams, her joys in life?

His kids, he supposed. If she hadn’t known love growing up, then maybe she compensated by shining her own love on them as brightly as she could. The thought made him ache. He wanted to know this woman, unearth everything she wasn’t saying when her eyes grew distant and dark, seeing things only she could see.

Touch her. Do something. Say something.

That was the other thing he hated about this dance, the not knowing whether any advance he made would be met with acceptance or scorn or a slap across the face. Especially with her. She was so on guard, and he hadn’t had to really try with a woman for quite a long time. For years now, if he wanted them, they fell into his arms. And that was great. But not this time. Not her.

He’d never had a drinking problem, but as the silence stretched out unbearably, he wanted to kill the rest of the wine in the bottle. Inviting her out here had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that he had her, he found he didn’t know what the hell to do with her.