Idiot. She was a big ole idiot. With extra cherries on top.

Derek’s blue eyes darkened. His lips parted.

That little gap of black was enough. Enough to remind her of the feel of his mouth against hers, the strength of his arms wrapping tight around her. His smell. The cool touch of ocean air. The rough slate beneath her bare feet.

Need swept over and through her, twisting her insides, causing wetness to gather between—

Rylie’s giggle snapped her out of her mental porno.

“You said kiss.”

Pepper’s cheeks were molten, but she had grit, dammit. So she forced her lips into a semblance of a smile and ruffled Rylie’s hair.

“It’s just an expression, sweetie.” A wave toward the plate of deliciousness—carbs, chocolate, cherries, more chocolate, and more, more chocolate. “Usually uttered when someone brings me chocolate.”

Rylie, who was sporting a hot chocolate mustache herself, nodded in agreement. “My mom said it when I shared my ice cream with her.”

“That was nice of you,” Pepper said, dutifully ignoring Derek. His expression had darkened.

“I am really nice. My teacher . . .” Rylie was off and running, reciting some exploit of helping pass out papers and sharing crayons.

Aside from an “Uh-huh” here and there, Rylie didn’t need much of an active conversational partner.

Which was good.

Because Pepper’s eyes—traitors, the both of them!—had drifted over to Derek.

Anti-dimple-gate.

As in, they’d disappeared, and the frown he was sporting was intense.

Seriously though, why did dark and broody have to work on him? Hmm? Wasn’t it bad enough the man was attractive when he was smiling? Why did the universe feel the need to add exceptional brooder to his freaking resumé?

“And you kiss a lot of people?”

Pepper blinked and sat back, his tone was dark, deadly, and as such, it took a moment for his words process.

Her chin lifted. On its own, she’d swear it. “Why would it matter if I did?”

Now was his turn to blink, to sit back slightly shocked. His words, when they eventually came, were along a different vein altogether. Confused and frustrated, with a hint of resignation. “It wouldn’t.” A pause. “It doesn’t.”

Her reply was out before her better sense could stifle it. “I think you mean it shouldn’t.”

They stared at each other, both acknowledging the truth.

An underlying attraction connected them.

They weren’t going to pursue it.

No. Matter. What.

Except . . . why did those feel like famous last words? Pepper grabbed a pastry off the plate and shoved it in her mouth.

“I need to go.” Derek shoved his laptop in his bag and stood. “Hey, kiddo, why don’t you save your game? That way next time I see you, you can continue on.”

“Okay,” Rylie said and handed him his phone after a few presses on the screen.

“Bye—”

“Will you come to my school social?” she asked Derek when he turned to go. “My dad is going to be working. Again,” she added with an expression that was equal parts hangdog and genuinely sad.

One Pepper had been taken in by more than a few times.

Oh, man.

Derek, like any tough, alpha male when exposed to the depressed eyes of a skilled manipulator (aka a six-year-old), folded like a bad hand at a blackjack table.

“When is it?”

“Tomorrow night at six of the clock,” Rylie said. “My class is singing and then afterward there will be ice cream!”

Her little tush wriggled in excitement on the booth.

Pepper smiled and when she looked over at Derek, his lips were twitching, too.

“Well I can’t miss ice cream, now can I?”

Crack.

She actually felt the defenses she’d erected against Derek sustain that break. It was dangerous—he was dangerous—but dammit if he wasn’t a good guy.

Jerks were so much easier to write off.

Derek with his rescuing her from getting smooshed by cars and humoring a little girl he barely knew wasn’t a jerk.

He was also being paid by her father to keep an eye on her.

So yeah, that was an important fact to remember.

“Yay!” Rylie shoved past Pepper in the booth and launched herself at Derek.

A colder woman than her would have been unmoved by the sight of him carefully hugging the little girl in return.

She, on the other hand, was a puddle of goo.

“Bye,” he murmured as she clamored back over Pepper and into the booth then picked up a Danish.

“Bye,” she said, waving.

“Pepper.”

She glanced up at him, and their eyes held. Totally not fair he could do that, especially after he’d gone and busted through her defenses by being all sweet and kind.

“Dammit, why can you be a jerk?”

White teeth flashed, a low chuckle slid across the space between them, trailed down her spine, coated her skin.

Eau de Derek. Confident and sexy and an aphrodisiac all in one.

“I’ll work on that, okay?”

And then the man did the most confounding thing. He cupped her jaw and ran one calloused thumb over her cheekbone.

He was gone the next instant, and she would have thought she’d made the entire gesture up—delusions of grandeur, or rather, delusion of Pepper—if not for the way her skin tingled.

Her freaking nerves knew Derek was different.

Which made her . . . Screwed. Yup. With a capital S.

Rylie turned to her. “You’ll come, too, right?” Wide blue eyes, gently sparkling with unshed tears.

Oh yeah, she was screwed.