be fine,” he repeated, more for himself than Peyton.
The tease dropped from Peyton’s features. Her voice sobered. “You better be, Luke. A kid isn’t a watch you can return to the store because it doesn’t match your suit.”
“If you haven’t noticed, I don’t wear a watch or own a suit.” He tossed her a grin, slipping into the familiar role of class flirt. “And I’m still a big kid myself.”
“That particular fact I noticed.”
For some strange reason, the fact that Peyton had noticed anything at all about him made Luke smile. Years ago, he’d barely known she existed, except as a thorn in his side when he’d been trying to be alone with Susannah. But now, standing in the water with this older, sexier, more intriguing Peyton—
“Auntie P? Can I play with my other dolls now?”
“Sure, sure.” Peyton strode out of the pool, reaching for Madelyne as the little girl was heading for the table where Peyton had placed their things. “Wait, let me get the bag for you.”
Luke’s gaze followed the cascade of water running down Peyton’s back, over her buttocks, down her shapely legs. There were a few things that improved with age. Cheddar cheese. Red wine. And Peyton Reynolds.
He reminded himself he wasn’t here for Peyton or for anything other than his daughter. He was trying to be responsible, for once in his life, and being responsible didn’t include lusting after his kid’s aunt.
He was a father now, whether he was ready or not, and that meant being a whole other person than the one he had been for the past twenty-six years. He could only pray he didn’t screw it up.
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