Page 78 of Damaged Protector

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Page 78 of Damaged Protector

“I’ve got sunscreen,” Blaire Broxton said, her green eyes exactly matching the emerald swimsuit she was wearing.

I smiled at the gorgeous redhead. “Thanks. I don’t want to burn.”

“Turn around, and I’ll put some on your back.” As I pivoted, her son Max ran by, completely nude and twirling his turquoise swim shorts over his head.

“Naked swimming time!” he yelled, and I giggled as Blaire cursed under her breath before yelling back.

“Not naked time, Rox… Dex… dammit, I mean, Max!” She tossed the sunscreen at Hawk, who caught the brown bottle deftly. “Put this on Mal’s back. I’ve gotta go… do something with this little shit.”

As she ran off to chase her pantsless son, Hawk approached, casting quick flickers down my body. “Turn around.” The sound was so low and deep I could feel it in my bones.

My body responded without argument, like he had physically moved it himself. I heard the sound of the sunscreen lid being removed and then felt the warm spray against my shoulders. A large hand smoothed the oil there, the touch confident, like he’d touched a million women’s bodies before.

Maybe he has. Women literally fall onto their knees for this big hunk, I thought, remembering last night. Again. Hell, I hadn’t been able to get the sight of him—tall and commanding and a hundred percent in control while he was in the Den of Sin—out of my mind.

He did my arms next, his hands eliciting some very salacious thoughts regarding what those greasy fingers could do to other parts of my body.

By the time he’d coated and rubbed the greasy oil onto my back—quite thoroughly I might add—I had to suppress the shiver that was threatening at the base of my spine.

“Cold, Little Bee?” he asked against my ear, and the tingle of electricity finally broke loose, causing a full-body quiver that I could no longer control. His chuckle was hotter than the beaming sun.

Smug-ass man.

After swimming and playing for about an hour, the guys set up chairs and several long, white tables beneath a tent that had been erected on the lawn. Then we all settled down to eat.

Bode’s mom, India, sat beside me. She was very attentive, asking me every question under the sun about myself. “So, no boyfriend?” she queried, her eyes sparkling as she toyed with the long, gray braid that hung over one of her shoulders.

“No, I just moved here a few weeks ago,” I informed her, wondering if she had another son or something she wanted to fix me up with. Otherwise, why was she so interested in my life?

“And when is your birthday?” Her eyes were clear and beautiful, and they seemed to have the power to see directly inside a person’s soul. It was comforting rather than unnerving because she radiated such a gentle spirit.

“Oh, uh, it was last month. May seventh.”

“Ah, a Taurus. Sensual and creative,” she mused. “You’d pair well with a Cancer.”

I laughed. “Which dates are Cancers so I can keep an eye out for my dream man?”

Her lips twitched. “June twenty-first to July twenty-second.”

She shifted her eyes down the table, but before I could see what she was looking at, Mia approached and tapped her grandmother on the arm. “Gigi, I sit with you.” The little girl was precious with her strawberry-blonde pigtails and a scattering of freckles across her nose. Her face showed the classic characteristics of a child with Down Syndrome.

I chatted with the little girl while she sat on India’s lap and ate her french fries. She was engaging and sweet, and by the time dinner was done, I wanted to take her home with me.

“Well, that was a miracle of modern parenting,” Bristol said, walking back outside with Charli, Blaire, Landree, and Shiloh on her heels.

“I can’t believe we got the kids—all thirteen of them—bathed and settled down,” Shy commented.

“It’s all the swimming. Wears them the hell out,” Blaire said, taking her place behind the quarried white stone bar and pulling out a blender. “Now it’s time for the adults to have some fun.”

The sun was just going down over the Dallas skyline in the distance, bathing the world in deep purples and blues. It was still muggy as hell, but the temperature had dropped at least fifteen degrees in the past hour.

Cam grabbed Shiloh by the waist and pulled her to him. She looked amazing in a blue and white striped two-piece swimsuit, and her husband certainly seemed to appreciate it.

“Did Bella go down okay?”

“Fast asleep in Dani’s room. All the little ones are asleep, and India is playing makeup with Katie and Carrie. Mrs. Casper and Ruby are in charge of making sure no one wakes up and escapes. There are kids everywhere upstairs.”

“Well, Blaire and Ax do have about a million bedrooms. This place is like a fucking hotel.” Cam nuzzled at Shiloh’s neck. “And speaking of hotels, I can’t wait to get you—”




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