Zara

I stopped after a few steps and turned back. “Well? You coming?”

“Yes,” Lance croaked, cleared his throat, and followed me into the kitchen.

My father grumbled and shook his head, making him look much older than he was. At only fifty-eight, he maintained his debonair handsome looks and his athletic physique well. While in South Africa, my father had had quite the reputation. From the stories my mother had shared, anyone who met him had instantly fallen in love with him…except her.

My mother had caught my father’s eye at a fundraiser they had both attended. His debut into politics was well accepted among his peers, and Mother said it made his ego enormous. As a girl still in her teens, she was the first to not cave to his charms. Determined, he pursued her, courted her, and a year later they were married. Her parents weren’t happy. She was nineteen; he was twenty-nine.

The man I knew was worlds away from the fun, flirting version my mom swore he used to be. In all of my years, the only time I’d seen my father truly have a good time, laugh, and allow himself to lower his guard was during my sister’s wedding. The champagne my mother had kept pumping into him could have had something to do with it.

“Have a seat,” I said, waving to one of the kitchen chairs around the table. Lance quietly sat, and I was dying to know what he was thinking. The confidence he’d exuded earlier had diminished a tiny bit. I wanted to assure him it happened to the best of them.

Just as I finished making our sandwiches, my father appeared in the kitchen to grab his lunch, with Marshmallow following. He instantly hopped right into Lance’s lap, causing my dad to raise a brow. With lunch in hand, he stopped and stared at Lance for a very long while. He was literally studying every inch of the man’s face. Knowing my father, he was committing it all to memory.

“Sir?” Lance finally asked, when no words came to accompany the ophthalmic interrogation.

“Papa, is there something you want?” I was losing my patience with this nonsense.

He waited a pause before finally saying, “No.”

I placed the sandwiches on the table and met his glare. “Well, then, have a nice day. I’ll see you tonight.”

Ignoring the way Lance’s eyes widened at my snippy dismissal, I slid onto the chair and took a bite of my lunch. I knew I was setting the tone for future encounters. If I cowered, that would give him the upper hand to treat Lance like he was a convict. Even knowing what Lance and I shared was a short-lived friendship, I wasn’t okay with Daddy dearest ruining the connection. I liked him too much, and my father would just have to deal with it.

“Zara.”

Undeterred, I raised my eyes until they met my father’s. “Yes?”

I could tell there was so much he wanted to say, but based on our relationship of late he held back. Dad and I had been arguing relentlessly. He attributed it to my sister leaving whereas I attributed it to finally growing up. My poor mama was often caught in the middle of our bickering. No doubt, tonight would be another battle of wills between my father and me.

“Have a good day,” he said before turning to leave.

Once we heard the front door click shut, Lance turned to me while gawking. “You weren’t kidding.”

“Nice, right? Welcome to my world.” With a sigh, I bit into my sandwich, wanting to enjoy what little time we had before I had to go back to work. “So, are we still on for tomorrow?”

A smile spread over his gorgeous lips as he chewed slowly. My eyes focused on the way the muscles in his neck flexed as he swallowed. “I was going to ask you the same.”

“Yes. I’m off tomorrow. I already secured a lesson for you.”

“A lesson? I thought you were teaching me.”

I shook my head with a smirk. “I’m not a very good teacher. I have no patience, I’d be yelling at you, and by the end you’d probably never want to see me again.”

“Doubtful,” he said with his own smirk while holding my gaze. Instantly, the muscles in my lower half contracted. “Care to make a bet?”

“No. You already owe me ten bucks.” At his confused expression I added, “You and Papa are not besties yet.”

“Yet,” he said with a wink.

Desire I’d never felt before made it impossible to complete the simplest of tasks, like lifting my sandwich to take a bite. Instead, I pushed it away, fearing I’d choke on the sticky peanut butter since my mouth suddenly felt like the Sahara.

Then again, if I choked he’d have to perform mouth-to-mouth. How easy would it be to grab his hand, drag him to my room, and have my way with him?

“What is it this time, stomach flipping or heart pounding?” he teased when I continued to stare in a Lance-trance.

“Ready?” I squeaked, causing him to laugh at my obvious befuddlement.

He popped the last bit of sandwich into his mouth and grinned. “I’m as ready as you are.”