Irresistible: A Small Town Single Dad Romance (Cloverleigh Farms Series Book 1)

What the fuck are you doing? my inner dad voice barked at me. Stop touching her!

But I left my hand right where it was, enjoying the feel of Frannie’s knee pressed against my thigh, imagining what it would be like if my hand were beneath the blanket.

I knew it was wrong. I knew I’d probably go to hell for having impure thoughts about the babysitter. I knew I’d definitely get fired if Sawyer saw me groping his daughter, but I left it.

After all, I wasn’t really groping her, was I? It was more of a graze. Innocent. Over the blanket. Out in the open. She probably hadn’t even noticed. She wasn’t even looking at me.

And it felt so nice to sit close to her this way. To touch her. To have her in the room on a winter evening—another adult, someone I could talk to, someone who understood. Maybe she couldn’t fully comprehend what it was like to be a single parent, but it wasn’t as if she hadn’t struggled. She knew what it was like to fear you were falling short, to worry you were fucking up the one chance at life you’d been given. Like I had when I was deployed, she’d been forced to consider her own mortality—and she’d been only a child.

My gut churned, imagining what that must have been like for her and for her parents. Frannie appreciated life. She appreciated little things like good meals and kindness and sleigh rides in winter. She was sweet and beautiful and generous—more than worthy of the life she’d been given. I wished I could tell her that. I wished she wasn’t my boss’s daughter. I wished my kids weren’t in the room. I wished I could share not only this blanket and this couch and this snowy evening with her, but more. A hell of a lot more.

But this was as close to her as I could get.

By the time the movie was over, Winnie had fallen asleep. I carried her upstairs, managed to get her clothes off, her pajamas on, and wake her up enough to use the bathroom and brush her teeth. A few minutes later, Millie and Felicity came up the stairs to put their pajamas on, arguing about whose room Frannie was going to sleep in. Once I’d tucked Winnie into bed and kissed her goodnight, I went into the bathroom where they continued to bicker while they brushed their teeth, toothpaste and spit flying everywhere.

“I have bunk beds,” said Millie. “That way she won’t have to sleep with one of us.”

“But my bed is big enough for two,” argued Felicity. “It’s a double.”

“It’s actually only a full and not big enough for you and an adult,” I told her. “Millie’s bunk makes more sense in terms of space.” Actually, what made the most sense in terms of space was to offer her the other side of my king-size bed. And if she wandered over to my side, I wouldn’t complain one bit.

“Hey,” Frannie whispered from the hallway behind me.

I turned around and felt my face get hot, as if she might have guessed what I was thinking.

“Hey,” I said quietly. “I’m just going to put some clean sheets on Millie’s bottom bunk for you. And maybe she can lend you something to sleep in.” She was so petite, I figured Millie’s clothes might fit, although she had a lot more curves.

Frannie smiled. “Ah, I think her things will be too small for me.”

“Yeah. Geez, Dad. Do you think she’s a kid?” Behind me, Millie’s tone was pure eye roll.

I frowned over my shoulder at my firstborn, then turned back to Frannie. “I’ll get you a T-shirt. Would that be okay?”

She nodded. “Perfect. And really, don’t go to any trouble about a bed. I can sleep on the couch with the blankets.”

“Will you be comfortable?”

“Totally,” she assured me.

I scratched my head. “Okay. If you want to. I’ll get you a pillow.”

“Thanks. Oh, and if you by any chance have an extra toothbrush …”

“We do. Millie, can you get her a new one from the drawer?”

“Sure, Dad.”

“Do you need a towel or anything?” I asked Frannie, although I panicked a little at the thought of her taking a shower at my house.

She thought for a second. “Maybe just a little one so I can wash my face.”

“I’ll get her one,” said Felicity, bolting out of the bathroom and going to the linen closet at the top of the stairs.

“Thanks, Felicity. I’ll be right back,” I told Frannie. “Girls, finish up and get in bed. I’ll be up to say goodnight in a minute.”

Downstairs, I went into my room and searched for a clean T-shirt for her to sleep in. Unfortunately, my nicest white ones were either dirty or freshly laundered but pink. Cursing, I hunted through my drawers and found a dark gray one with USMC written across the chest in thick black letters. It was faded, but had minimal fraying and no pit stains. She would swim in it, but at least it would be more comfortable than sleeping in her clothes.

Oh, fuck. Don’t think about her without clothes on.

I grabbed an extra pillow from my bed, tossed it onto the couch on my way through the living room, and hurried back upstairs, where the bathroom door was closed. With the T-shirt in my hand, I said goodnight to Millie and Felicity, kissing their foreheads and telling them I loved them.

“Can we really go to work with you and Frannie tomorrow?” asked Millie, yawning.

“Sure. If we can get ourselves there.” Grimacing, I remembered how my engine refused to turn over earlier. Assuming it was a dead battery, I’d have to get a jump tomorrow. “Go to sleep now.”

When I left her room, Frannie was coming out of the bathroom, and we met in the hall. She’d left the light on, thank goodness, otherwise we’d have been alone in the dark. Her face was freshly washed, and she looked even younger and sweeter without any makeup on.

Because she is young and sweet. So stop thinking about putting your dick in her mouth.

I thrust the shirt at her. “Here.”

She took it from me. “Oh—thanks.”

“I put an extra pillow on the couch. I just need to grab a spare pillowcase for it from the linen closet. I’ll do that right now.”

“Okay.”

“All the blankets are still down there too.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She smiled at me, and my chest got so tight I could hardly breathe.

Go, asshole. Get the pillowcase. Get downstairs. Leave her alone to change and get the hell into your room where you belong. Then shut the door and don’t even think about coming out again.

But I stood there staring at her for ten more seconds, my hands clenched in fists at my sides. I wanted to kiss her so fucking badly. Just once, to know what those sweet little lips would feel like on mine. To hold her in my arms. I found myself wondering, on a scale of one to ten, exactly how wrong it would be. A seven? An eight?

I shoved my hands in my pockets.

She glanced over her shoulder into the bathroom. “Guess I’ll get changed.”

I nodded. “Okay. ’Night.”

“’Night.” She went into the bathroom and shut the door, and I slumped over with a sigh of relief.

Fuck. That was close.

Then I ran to the linen closet, grabbed a spare pillowcase, and descended the stairs three at a time. I had to be out of the living room by the time she came down.

The problem was, I’m shit at changing pillowcases. I can get the old one off just fine, but fuck if I can get the new one on. Three minutes in, I was flustered and sweaty and still trying to shove that fat fucking pillow into the case—why the hell was this so difficult? Why was it sideways? Had the case shrunk in the dryer? Cursing, I switched on a lamp and tried again.

Of course, she came tiptoeing down the stairs in time to see me struggling with it. Giggling, she set her clothing on the couch and reached for the pillow. “What’s happening here, is it fighting back?”

“Yeah.” Gladly, I handed it over, groaning inwardly at the sight of her in my shirt. It was huge on her—the hem nearly reached her knees—but that was probably a good thing. I did not need to see any more of her bare legs.

“There.” She slipped the pillowcase on with no trouble at all.

I shook my head. “What’s the secret? And why do only women seem to know it?”

She hugged the pillow and gave me a devious smile. “I’ll never tell.”

God, she was cute. And sexy. And really, really close. The curtains were closed and only one lamp was on, making the room feel intimate. The house was sleepy and silent under the snow, and we were alone—whatever happened would be our secret. My mind went to a dangerous place. My heart was doing something scary in my chest.

Nothing can happen, I told myself. Nothing.

But instead of backing away from her and going to bed like I was supposed to, I reached for the pillow she held and tossed it onto the couch.

Her smile faded.

I moved closer to her. I took her face in my hands. I rubbed a thumb over her soft pink lips.

“You should tell me to go to bed,” I said quietly.

“Why?” she whispered.

“Because if you don’t, I’m going to kiss you.”

Her hands slid up my chest as she rose on tiptoe. “Mack. Kiss me.”

I lowered my mouth to hers, vowing that I’d only kiss her once—one time—just to know what it was like. Of course, that was before she opened her lips and invited my tongue between them. It was before she slipped her arms around my neck and pressed her chest to mine. It was before my hands moved down her sides and crept beneath the bottom of my shirt. And it was well before she jumped up and wrapped her legs around me, entreating my hands to slip beneath that ass I’d been thinking about all day.

Because after that, I was fucked.

My dick was hard as a rock. My adrenaline was pumping. My willpower had disintegrated.

I stumbled backward onto the couch and set her on my lap so she straddled my thighs. My hands stole underneath her shirt and hers slid into my hair. She sighed softly, pleadingly, as I covered her breasts with my palms and stroked her nipples with my thumbs. Her head fell to one side, and I moved my mouth down her throat, tasting her skin. My cock twitched, trapped between us.

She took my head in her hands and brought my lips back to hers, rocking her hips, rubbing herself against me.

Oh, God. This was getting precarious. Another minute of her grinding on me like that and I was going to embarrass us both by going off like a rocket, and I really didn’t want to do that.

“Frannie.” I put my hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back. “We have to stop.”

“Because of the kids?” she asked breathlessly.

“Because this is wrong.” Actually, I’d forgotten all about the kids, which was yet another sign that this was not a good idea. It was killing my brain cells. “Because you’re my co-worker and babysitter. Because you’re my boss’s daughter. Because I’m so much older than you. And because if you don’t stop moving like that, something is going to happen.”

“I don’t mind.”

“In my pants.”

She laughed a little. “I knew what you meant. But it doesn’t have to happen like that. We could …” She hesitated, and when she spoke again her voice was softer, shyer. “We could go to your bedroom.”

I groaned. “No. We can’t.”

“But I want to. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“Fuck, don’t tell me that.”

“Why not? It’s the truth.”

I shook my head, vowing to stay strong. “No.”

“But—”

“No.” Summoning up every ounce of willpower I had, and some I didn’t, I lifted her up, set her down beside me, and stood up. “No buts.”

She looked up at me. “You don’t want to?”

“Christ. Of course I do.” In fact, my hard-on was refusing to give up, and I had to adjust myself in my pants.

Her expression was amused as she watched me, her eyes taking in the obvious bulge at my crotch. “Then what’s holding you back?”

“All the things I just said!” It was a struggle to keep my voice down. I was angry and wanted to yell—not at her, exactly, but just in general. At the situation. And definitely at myself. I ran a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, Frannie. I shouldn’t have kissed you. This is my fault.”

She sighed resignedly and shook her head. “No, it’s not.”

“It is.” I could barely look her in the eye, but I forced myself to. “I had one job—put the fucking pillowcase on the pillow and go to bed. Instead I took advantage of you.”

She surprised me by rolling her eyes. “Please, Mack. You did not take advantage of me. If I hadn’t been dying for you to kiss me, I’d have stayed upstairs until I was positive you were in your room. Or at least kept my pants on.”

“You probably should have.”

She nodded and looked down at her knees, which were pressed together. “Sorry.”

I tried to take the edge off my voice. “You’re too young, Frannie. And if we’d let this go any further tonight, we’d both have been sorry.”

“Too young! I’m twenty-seven.”

“And I’m thirty-seven.”

She lifted her chin. “I don’t care about the age difference.”

I struggled with how else to communicate what I was thinking. “I’m only trying to protect you.”

“Don’t,” she said tightly. “Don’t say that. I’m so sick and tired of being denied something I want for myself and being told someone is doing it for my own good. I’m not a child, Mack. I don’t need your protection.” With that she angrily grabbed the pillow, stuck it at one end of the couch and lay back, throwing the blanket over her legs.

I was simultaneously sad to see them disappear and glad they weren’t visible any longer.

“Goodnight,” she said, pulling the blanket up to her chin and closing her eyes.

Accepting the fact that there was no way to exit this situation gracefully—especially not with a massive, stubborn erection—I switched off the lamp and left the room.

Inside my bedroom, I shut the door and sat down on the foot of the bed, hands propped on my knees.

“Fuck,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. Why was my gut churning? Hadn’t I done the right thing? Hadn’t I put my own urges aside? Hadn’t I done exactly what I’d have wanted another man to do if Frannie were one of my daughters, years from now? I flopped back on my bed and threw an arm over my eyes.

Christ. I didn’t want to think about my daughters in the future. I didn’t want to think about them now. And I didn’t want to treat Frannie like she was one of them—because that’s not how I saw her at all. But it was wrong to want her this way. I couldn’t get past it.

Eventually, I dragged myself off the bed and into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Then I undressed down to my underwear, pulled on some sweatpants, turned off the light, and crawled beneath the covers alone, which I would probably do for the rest of my fucking life.

Except … I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Those bare legs beneath the hem of my shirt. The taste of her kiss. The scent of her hair. The hard little tips of her breasts beneath my palms. The way she straddled my body and moved above me.

My dick was so hard, and it would feel so good to be inside her. My body was desperate for the release. And she’d wanted it too, hadn’t she? Maybe she was just as lonely as I was. Maybe she was only looking for a little companionship. A little fun. A connection.

I found myself wavering. What would be the harm? We were two consenting adults, weren’t we? Maybe once would be okay. Maybe we could have this one moment of insanity, and then go back to normal. Maybe all I needed was to get this out of my system.

And I was so sick and tired of feeling like my entire purpose in life was to be a Responsible Person. I used to be unpredictable. I used to be bold. I used to take risks and act on instinct and say fuck the consequences.

My feet touched the floor, and before I knew it, I was opening my bedroom door and moving through the dark.