Sienna

I gathered up my clothes, wore my panties, clutching my clothes around my chest, using it to cover my bare breast, trying not to look at Jaxon as I headed back toward the house. He was still half-leaning against the workbench, that crooked grin playing on his face — the one that always made my stomach do a quiet flip.

“Go on,” he teased, his voice low and amused. “You’ve got that look like you’re already planning to steal the bathroom for an hour.”

I shot him a look over ...