“Okay, little man,” he said and scooped the cold sand together into a haphazard tower. Connor’s tiny hands worked with him, patting and slapping at the sand. “Gonna help me, are you?”
“Me do it!”
“Attaboy.”
When his phone rang, Griffin was almost surprised. When he was working, the damn thing was ringing all the time. But since his vacation started, he’d practically been living in a vacuum. A very sexy, very confusing vacuum.
Still, he carried the phone because, in his business, he always had to have his phone with him. He never knew when a client or the office would need to reach him. He grabbed the phone from the pocket of his cargo shorts, checked the readout on the screen and grinned. “Hey, Garrett—how’s life in the palace?”
“Oh, you know how it is,” his twin brother said with a laugh. “Another day wearing a crown.”
“Yeah.” Griffin laughed, too, and reached out one hand to smooth Connor’s hair back from his face. “Must be tough. The villagers marching on the castle with flaming torches yet?”
“Nope,” Garrett told him. “But my brother-in-law the prince beat the hell out of me in a horse race yesterday. That count?”
“Close enough.” The wind ruffled Griffin’s hair and tugged at the edges of the T-shirt he wore. The outgoing tide left a wide stretch of damp sand and the ocean shyly sighed toward shore, then slid back out, leaving a stain of wet that glimmered like silver in the late-afternoon sunlight. A couple of surfers bobbed on their boards, and families were packing up their picnic coolers to head home.
Up on the beach behind him, Nicole sat in a beach chair with a book she hadn’t been reading. And here at the edge of the water, a little boy destroyed another sand castle.
“Again!”
Smiling, Griffin held the phone with one hand and used his free hand to pile up the wet sand into another doomed tower.
“Did I just hear a kid?” Garrett asked. “Where are you?”
“Yes, you heard a kid,” Griffin said, frowning. “There’s a lot of them here. I’m at the beach.”
“You hate the beach.”
Griffin shook his head, then smiled as Connor patted tiny hands against the sand tower. “I don’t hate the beach. I hate the crowds.” He glanced up and down the shoreline. The sun was sinking and most of the people were leaving. Soon the beach would be empty but for a few diehard surfers and the handful of teenagers who would sit around a fire, drinking beer and telling lies. The wind was cooler and a few clouds streamed across the darkening sky. Behind him, Nicole was headed toward them, her long, lovely legs moving slowly and, he thought, with a deliberate sensuality.
He took a deep breath and focused on his twin’s voice, which was practically shouting in his ear.
“Who’s the kid?”
“Nicole Baxter’s son, Connor,” Griffin said, and the little boy looked up with a grin when he heard his name.
“Are you nuts? Katie’s friend?”
“I’m not nuts,” Griffin said. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Uh-huh, that’s why you’re breaking your no-kids rule.”
His twin always had known him too well, Griffin thought in disgust. So much for his “secret” relationship with Nicole. So far both Lucas and Garrett had guessed at the truth. If any more Kings found out, Griffin could kiss his cookie supply goodbye.
“This is different.” Or so he kept telling himself. Getting involved with a woman who had a child was a two-way risk, and he knew that all too well. When the relationship inevitably ended, you lost not only the woman, but the child you’d formed an attachment to. He’d experienced that once, years ago, and that ache had stayed with him for a long time.
“I can’t believe this.”
“I’m not walking down an aisle or anything, Garrett. For God’s sake, you sound hysterical.”
“I never get hysterical.”
“Then quit shouting at me when you’re too far away to punch in the face.”
Garrett sighed through the phone. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Always,” Griffin assured his brother, although, as Nicole came closer and closer, he sort of doubted himself.