Iris tried to keep her gaze glued to her book as Elijah Vance stood up, reached an arm back over his head, and dragged his Black Sabbath T-shirt off. She pretended to focus on the printed page as his biceps flexed and the veins popped in his forearms as he wadded the shirt and tossed it into a nearby chair. Tattoos flowed down both his arms and across a liberal portion of his chest, carving stories in his skin, and she noticed for the first time that under his long swim trunks, his legs were covered one hundred percent in ink.

He wasn’t built like a guy who spent hours in the gym every day, but the lean sinewy muscle cording his long limbs was well-defined and, yeah, damn pleasing to look at. Iris reached for her bottle of water even though she was salivating, noticing that one of the soccer-mom types nearby was checking him out, too.

As she set her water aside, she randomly thought of what her own mother would’ve said about him and fought a smirk, the print on the pages blurring in her vision. For one, he created the devil’s music, and for another, he’d desecrated the holy temple of his body. She would’ve looked down her pious nose at him, forgetting that whole “judge not” thing, as she so often had. Iris supposed her mom would also have a thing or two to say about a woman who let her gaze crawl over his body and marveled at it as a thing of beauty.

Because it was.

Eli tossed his cap and shades aside, letting his long hair free, and took a running cannonball into the water near his boys, creating a huge splash that got them both good. He came up laughing, hair plastered across his face as Dylan and Seger attacked him, shouting with glee as they tried to drag him back under.

Iris didn’t realize she was grinning at them like a fool until Eli’s gaze locked with hers for the briefest moment, and she jerked her attention away and tried to pin it resolutely back on her novel.

Sara would absolutely hate her guts right now, Iris thought irrationally, wishing more than anything in the world she had the freedom to tell her friend that she was sitting not thirty feet away from Elijah Vance while he played with his kids in a hotel swimming pool. Sara would never even believe it. Iris would have to produce photographic evidence.

Come to think of it, Heidi had requested all the pictures of the boys that Iris was able to take, though she doubted Elijah would care for himself being included in pictures she intended to send to his ex-wife, so left her phone in her bag and let them play undisturbed. Only about five minutes had passed when her phone came to life in her bag with Heidi’s ring—a loud, blaring alarm so Iris was certain to hear it. Her boss must be reading her mind. Iris sat up and fished the phone out.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Heidi trilled in a singsong greeting. “How’s it going?”

“Great! We’re at the hotel now, just relaxing at the pool.”

“Is Elijah there?” While Heidi didn’t exactly spit out the name, her voice certainly darkened some on those particular syllables.

“Yes,” Iris said vaguely.

“Hmm. And my babies are okay?”

“Of course. They’re having a blast.”

In the water, Elijah had apparently picked up the gist of the conversation and was eyeing her suspiciously.

“Do they miss me?”

“You know they do.”

“Well, I won’t bother them right now if they’re in the pool. I do want them to call me later, though, okay? Don’t let them go to sleep without talking to me.”

“Sure thing. Where are you?” She was certain Heidi wasn’t hanging around at her house with her kids gone for the next several weeks.

Heidi emitted such a naughty giggle that Iris had to wonder if the woman was actually naked in bed at the moment. “Kauai.”

“Oh. Well. Lucky you.” She watched Eli lift Dylan in the air and throw him halfway across the pool while the boy cackled hysterically until the water swallowed him up.

“Aw, was that my Dylan dude? He does sound like he’s having fun.”

“He is,” Iris assured her, reaching forward to pick absently at one toenail.

“Okay, then. I’ll let you go. Take care of my boys.”

“I will. I was just thinking I need to snap some pictures. I’ll get on that. Enjoy Kauai.”

“Mmm, you know I will. Byeee!”

Realizing that she’d tipped Eli off as to where Heidi was right now, she darted a glance at him as she disconnected to see his jaw tensed. He didn’t say anything, though, not in front of his sons. She had to respect that. So many parents didn’t mind tearing the other down within hearing distance of their children. It was a raging pet peeve of hers.

No doubt Heidi was with Nic in a tropical paradise, palm trees swaying, breezes blowing and drinks flowing. This was nice, but it wasn’t Hawaii, and Eli would be hard at work tomorrow night, busting ass for the next two months. He didn’t have a conventional job, but she didn’t doubt for a moment that he worked hard.

Was that the reason his face looked carved from granite right now? Or did he wish he were the one there with his ex-wife? What was going on in the man’s head?

It wasn’t Iris’s business, of course, whether Elijah carried a still-burning torch for Heidi, but she would rather not find herself in the middle of it, especially if he needed a scapegoat for any ire he wished to work off.

Who was she kidding, though? She already was in the middle of it in a way. Because those boys definitely were, and as their champion, she might have to fight some battles she didn’t choose. A sobering thought as she went back to her book.

It was going to be a long summer, she thought, then a shadow fell over her.

Iris hadn’t noticed Elijah pull himself from the pool. “She’s in fucking Kauai?” he asked in a tone as angry as it was hushed. She glanced at the kids and then at him, trying to ignore the clinging water drops trailing down his body, the way they followed the curves and dips of his muscles . . .

Sighing, she shaded her face with one hand as she looked up at his face, cast in shadow by the sun above his head. “So she said.”

“Is that douche bag with her?”

“If you’re referring to Nic, she didn’t say, but I’m assuming he is.” Judging from the lazy, throaty, contented tone of Heidi’s voice, she might have just rolled over from making love to call Iris and check on her boys. Not that Iris had much experience in those matters, and certainly it wouldn’t do to tell him about her suspicions.

“He’d better be,” Eli all but snapped.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Pardon?”

He turned and stalked away from her, showing her that his back was as densely covered with tattoos as his front. “Better she’s on his dime than mine,” she heard him mutter. He executed a perfectly graceful dive back into the water.

Money? That’s what he was pissed about? Ugh, these people. Giving up on her novel at last, Iris chucked it into her bag, stood and let her cover-up slide down her arms to pool on the lounge chair. She deserved a little relaxation time herself.

––––––––

HIS HEAD BROKE THE surface of the water as Iris discarded her cover-up. Flicking the wet hair out of his eyes, he did a double-take. Her swimsuit was a modest black one-piece, leaving everything to the imagination . . . and imagine he did. Breasts on the small side, hips slender but perfectly proportioned. He couldn’t help himself. Something about the clean lines of her body tightly hugged by the discreet black fabric was more enticing than if she’d been out here exposing all in a G-string. As he contemplated the mystery of her, she took off her hat, then lifted her slender arms to take down her hair bun while long, ink-dark strands cascaded around her shoulders. She strode toward the pool with a bright smile for the boys.

Eli found himself grateful he was fully submerged.

Iris placed a dainty foot at the edge of the pool and pushed into an impressive dive, darting across the bottom and breaking the surface on the other side. With her black hair slicked back, her delicate features were only enhanced, a stunning natural beauty that one didn’t find too often. Most of the women he’d known had paid for their looks, his ex-wife included. Which was fine; he was all about doing whatever the fuck one wanted to do. But this creature before him was practically mythical.

She treaded water easily and chuckled at whatever antics Seger and Dylan were up to. They were playing with some of the other kids in the pool now, splashing and laughing. Iris kept her distance from them all. He hadn’t realized he had eyes only for her until a beach ball hit him upside the head, and he whipped around to cock a warning eyebrow at his elder son. Seger dissolved into laughter.

But it was refreshing to see that one having a good time. Eli worried about him a lot. Dylan probably didn’t remember much about the divorce, since they had done their best to hide any animosity from the kids and the press. But Seger had walked around with a sadness in his eyes for months after Elijah moved out, which had just about broken him and Heidi both. The one thing the two of them had always been able to agree on was doing what was best for their sons. Now Seger was reaching that difficult age Eli remembered all too well: old enough to think he knew everything, always frustrated to find he didn’t. The age when minor problems felt like major, life-ruining catastrophes, when everything seemed like someone else’s fault.

Seger probably considered every bad thing in his life to be his dad’s fault. If Eli would have to shoulder that blame for the rest of his days, he was afraid it would break him. It already seemed too heavy a weight to bear.

Iris’s dark head emerged from the water beside him. He hadn’t noticed her swimming up. “They’re so funny,” she said lightly. “They’re great kids.”

Eli rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Yeah.”

“They’ve really been looking forward to this.”

He almost asked, “Have they?” but stopped himself. At that moment, asking for confirmation about his own children’s feelings from an outsider . . . No. He wouldn’t do that. And he hated—absolutely fucking despised—that the boys had to be deprived of one parent to spend time with the other. The last time they had been on the road like this, their mother had been with them. They were so fucking resilient, though. He loved the hell out of them. Sometimes it was too much to take, and now the damn nanny was watching him while he had one of those out-of-nowhere rushes of emotion.

“I’m sorry about before,” she said. “I’ll step away to take her calls if you want me to.”

He frowned at her. “Huh? No, I don’t care about that.”

“Oh,” she said softly, her little pink mouth holding the form of the word for a moment after she said it. “Seemed like it made you mad.”

Yeah, well. Heidi had crawled under his skin a long time ago, and try as he might to get her out, he still felt her wriggling there. If Iris wanted to know the damn truth, he might feel better if she took every one of Heidi’s calls where he could hear. At least he would know what the two of them were talking about. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Just so you know, I feel entirely uncomfortable with this situation too. I mean, this isn’t exactly what I signed up for.”

He’d thought her eyes a dark blue when they first met, but out here in the sunlight, they were as bright as the endless sky stretching above them. “You and me both,” he said.

She chuckled. “What do you mean by that?”

So many things. He wasn’t even sure which. Little in his life had been what he’d signed up for. “Nothing.” He would tell her not to worry about it, but he’d already said that once.

“I think things will go more smoothly if we communicate,” she said. “If there’s something you need from me, let me know. I’ll do my best to accommodate.”

“What if I told you to get on a plane and go back home?”

Something akin to hurt flashed in those sky-blue eyes. He steeled himself against it as he waited for her sharp retort. But when that retort came, her voice was gentle. “Please, I’m trying here. And I want to be here for them too. I could go home, sure, and that would be easier for me because I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this. But I’m here because they are.”

He tore his gaze away from her and pinned it on his children. “This is a paycheck for you.”

“Yes, it’s a paycheck. It’s a job. But you know what? I love my job. I’m grateful for it every day. I’m thankful to know your sons and help take care of them.”

Eli scrubbed a hand over his wet head. “Look, maybe your intentions are pure. I don’t know, because I don’t know you. They seem to like you, though, and that matters a lot to me. I just don’t get why she needs you here. All. Fucking. Summer.”

“I don’t think it’s fair that you project your mistrust for Heidi onto me.”

“Don’t fucking psychoanalyze me.”

She recoiled a bit. “That wasn’t what I was trying to do.”

“I don’t think you realize yet what you’ve gotten into. It’s going to be a long tour. Frankly, Iris, I don’t think you can handle it.”

Her dark brows drew together. “Frankly, Elijah, I’ve handled you so far, so I think I can handle anything.”

At least she had cut the Mr. Vance shit. And he kind of liked hearing his name roll off her tongue. But he barked with laughter at her words. “Yeah, for all of an hour, collectively. I probably shouldn’t be worried about it. I give you a couple of weeks tops, and you’ll be going back home through no fault of mine. Because it gets rough out here.”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t do that. I think you’re bluffing, anyway. You wouldn’t bring your kids out here if it was that bad, and Heidi surely wouldn’t let them come whether I was here or not.”

He ignored the truth she had pounced on. “Would Heidi fire you if you left?” The sudden uncertainty that clouded her features told him that she wasn’t really sure. He had to laugh again. “She would, wouldn’t she?”

“I guess you would like that. I guess you would enjoy a fixture in your kids’ lives being cast out because you’re basically throwing a temper tantrum over eight weeks.”

He clamped his jaw together and looked over at Seger and Dylan again. He and Iris had managed to keep the heated conversation to themselves so far, so neither of his boys seemed privy to what was being discussed. “I doubt they would care,” he said nonchalantly, trying to cover the sting of another truth she had uncovered. In the grand scheme of things, what were eight measly weeks? He had the rest of his life to spend with his boys, didn’t he? Just what in the fuck was his problem? “Look, we haven’t even gotten started yet—”

“And we’re already on the wrong foot,” she said primly. “What I came over here to do was start over from scratch, but you won’t let me try.”

“Show me,” he said, looking back at her again. “Show me why you belong here. Because you can yap at me all day long and it won’t make any difference.”

“I’m tempted to tell you that I don’t have to prove anything to you, but fine. Out of respect for the fact that you’re those boys’ father, I’ll give you that much. If you want me to show you anything, though, you have to cut me some slack. You have to let me do my job.”

“Fair enough.”

Her brow smoothed over when he said it and, to his surprise, she lifted one small hand out of the water, holding it forward and staring him directly in the eyes as she waited for him to shake it.

He looked at it, and at her, scoffed, then accepted her cool, firm grip in his own. Her fingers were wet and supple and against his better judgment, he imagined them wrapped somewhere else.

But what he thought was, Game on.