Hot for Pepper by Emily Ryan-Davis Page B

so obviously unnerved by his presence.
    Not that why mattered. He’d been trying to want someone—anyone—else for years, with no success. He’d finally given up resisting the why of his desire for her. Returning to Hallsford without the sword of self-denial hanging over his head, he almost felt like he was really home. Like he could relax and reacquaint himself with the only father he’d ever known.
    Pepper had nearly reached the door to the dressing rooms before Mitch called after her, “Stay and keep me company.”
    She hesitated and Mitch knew he’d won. In Pepper’s mind, refusal would be rude, and she was never rude. Not fully hiding her reluctance, she returned to the side of the pool.
    “I’m not a very strong swimmer,” she said, her pointed chin aimed at her breastbone, blue eyes downcast. “You’ll outpace me and I won’t be much for competitive laps.”
    “There’s more than one lane and I didn’t come home looking for a competition.” He spread his arms wide and fanned water back and forth, drifting on the low current he created. “You came out because you wanted to swim. Get in the water.”
    “Carlton will be pleased that you’ve come. I’m sorry he’s not home. He had business in Atlanta and his flight won’t arrive for another several hours.” Pepper fingered her belt one last time before loosening the knot. She turned partially away from him to shrug free of the robe, which she draped over a squat deck chair.
    “He emailed. I’ll see him in the morning.” Mitch greedily studied her profile. Slim shoulders sloped into shapely arms, which she kept protectively close to her sides. Her black two-piece suit was conservatively cut. It didn’t reveal anything more dangerous than her freckles. She could have worn the same suit at a public pool, surrounded by kids, and been perfectly decent. So why was he suddenly hard, his cock straining against the mesh lining of his trunks?
    Without looking at him, she lowered herself into the water and set a slow pace down the lane. Timing laps to keep pace with her, Mitch concentrated on his form in the water and tried to figure out how to say what he needed to say.
     
    Pepper was painfully aware of Mitch’s proximity. Her nightly swim was usually good for regaining the energy she expended, and releasing the stress she acquired during her daytime volunteer shifts at the local hospital. Mitch’s presence did little to help her relax. He’d always had the opposite effect, flooding her with a particular brand of tension she didn’t care to examine.
    She hated to admit it, but she’d over-extended herself by taking on her night-shift project. Between the hospital, the late night work, and Carlton’s upcoming birthday-slash-engagement party, she was drained and exhausted.
    Andy told her she cared too much. Not just about the elderly patients on her volunteer shift but also about Carlton, Hallsford, and, according to Andy, everybody except herself. As her fingertips brushed Mitch’s hip under water, she wondered if Andy wasn’t right. She certainly cared too much about the strain between her two stepbrothers.
    She mentally cringed at that word. Logistically, that’s what Mitch and Andy were—her stepbrothers. In reality, she didn’t have a sibling relationship with Mitch outside of name-only. She thought of Andrew as a brother, but Mitch…she tried to maintain a space for him. He didn’t make it easy with his emotional distance and long absences.
    When she reached the end of the lane, Pepper surfaced for several deep breaths. Mitch lingered in the neighboring lane, still in her peripheral vision. She glanced sidelong to find him watching her.
    “You don’t have to wait for me.” She folded her forearms on the blue-tiled ledge to hold herself up where her feet couldn’t touch the bottom.
    Mitch shrugged. “I’ve been doing it this long.”
    Pepper frowned. “You didn’t have to. I wasn’t being modest when I said I’m not very fast in