“This is boring. Why are we going to the park again?”
I ignore my niece and decide that I don't care if the kids think I'm cool or not, I'm singing pop music all the way home. Clearly the little bastards don't much like me anyway. Hope they do like P!nk, Elle King, and Selena Gomez … cause that is what we're listening to for the next two weeks.
I pull into a space, my eyes already scanning the park for little Miss Overland.
I spot her at the bench we were sitting on yesterday, her phone in her hand, long dark hair blowing in the breeze. When she looks up, it fans across her face, turning my cock to diamond. Damn. Wow. She has big round eyes, curvy lips, and a long graceful neck. I know, I know, weird thing to check out on a chick, a neck. But when your lips are pressed up against the pulse in a girl's throat, a hot neck makes a big difference.
Just sayin'.
“Let's go, snots,” I say as I do the whole unloading ritual. This time when I get the stroller out, it unfolds perfectly. Hah. See, not all that hard. Don't know why guys are always bitching about this stuff. When you've got Google in your hand, what can't you do?
I run my fingers through my hair and slide my tongue across my lower lip. Oh yes. Brooke looks amazing sitting over there in some kind of loose black dress, the neckline plunging to reveal a curvy set of breasts. I'd do just about anything to get my face down there to worship those.
“Be cute and get me laid, okay?” I tell the baby as a mother whips her face around and glares at me with narrowed eyes. “She doesn't talk yet,” I whisper with a wink as I move past her and find myself standing in front of my new friend.
God, I love making new friends. Especially lady friends.
I smile as Brooke glances up, her pale brown eyes shadowed in liner. Based on yesterday and today, it looks like her style is all over the place. She looked like a a sexy hipster before and now she looks like a pseudo goth chick.
Either way, totally cool with me.
“I remembered the bread,” she says as I slide onto the bench next to her, resting a foot against the baby's stroller. “For the ducks, I mean.”
“Killer,” I say as I study her curvy figure under the soft black jersey of that dress. I want to get my hands all the hell over that. “It's been, like, eleven years since I've been down to the duck pond. You'll have to remind me how to get there.”
“It's been about five for me,” she says with a soft smile, one that turns the slightly harder angles of her face to gentle lines. I watch her tuck some silken hair behind an ear and wish I could tangle it around my fingers. “I just moved back.”
I make a face.
“Aw, bummer.” I snap my fingers when she raises her brows at me. “I mean, unless you like living here. It's kind of … in the middle of fucking nowhere.” The girl leans her head back, the perfectly smooth angle of her throat even more enticing when she laughs.
“That's true. But I didn't exactly have a choice about moving back.”
“Damn. I'm here on a temporary basis and then it's,” I point a pair of fingers in the direction of the zoo, “back to Vegas.”
“Vegas, huh?”
“Yup.”
“How'd you decide to move there?”
I let my mouth curve up at both corners, right into a nice easy smile. Brooke follows the movement, her eyes drawn to my face as she struggles to catch her breath. Yup. Got this one in the bag. She wants me; I want her. What's there to lose?
“Vegas never sleeps. There's always something—or somebody—new to do.” I wink at her and her smile fades a little. Hmm. Interesting. Okay. Different tactic. “So you grew up here? I don't remember seeing you around when I was in high school?”
“When did you graduate?” she asks as she looks up at me, fresh-faced and sexy. I could capture that chin in my fingers, pull her in for a kiss. We could … hell, I dunno, load the kids up on sugar and soda and watch 'em crash. Then maybe I could take her upstairs to my brother's bedroom …
“Eleven years ago,” I say with a loose shrug. Brooke raises her brows and nods her head.
“Five years ago,” she says and then it's my turn to raise my eyebrows. I glance over my shoulder at that brunette kid that looks just like her. Whoa. She must follow my train of thought because she shakes her head and lifts up her hands, a plastic ring with a candy jewel gleaming from her ring finger. Makes me grin. “They're not my girls. I mean, they are now, but … they're my sister's kids.”