Austin & Beth by Emma Clark

1. Hottie
    E very bit as sleek and red-hot as his 2002 Camaro, Austin James Montgomery stepped out of his scarlet sports car.
    And why shouldn't he look hot and amazing? This gorgeous, nineteen-year-old college freshman arrived home for the winter holidays. He'd be staying from December to January the sixteenth. I'd mixed feelings about his living here for a whole month, and some of these feelings I had to suppress—if I wanted to stay married.
    Um yeah.
    A duffel bag swayed at Austin's side as he swaggered to the front door. He wore sunglasses, grey cargo shorts, a black T-shirt and leather jacket. He never knew how to dress properly for the season or weather. Why the hell would he wear shorts on such a cold day?
    I bit my tongue trying not to laugh. Austin's legs probably felt like two blocks of ice. It made me shiver to look at him, though he was beautiful—as always. I watched through the window as he swiped off his sunglasses, tucked them in his pocket and poked the doorbell.
    Music chimed, and my husband Joe went to answer. Meanwhile I stood there like an idiot.
    Honestly, I never knew what to say when Austin was around. I turned into a flustered moron. It didn't help that I hadn't seen him in four months, and it didn't help that he was an absolute hottie.
    Masculine laughter echoed. Joe stepped to the side as Austin appeared in the foyer, dropping the duffel bag at his feet. I couldn't help but watch his every movement. As usual Joe didn't notice my interest in his son. Why?
    Because Joe didn't usually notice me.
    Once a bashful kid, Austin poised straight and proud as if college life had given him confidence. Six feet tall, toned as hell, perpetually golden-brown skin; the entire drool-worthy package. Short in the back, rich chestnut hair fringed his forehead, blond and feathered at the tips.
    Yep that was Austin, Joe's son from a previous relationship. In other words, this handsome male specimen was my step-son.
    Shit. Makes me sound ancient and I'm only thirty-four, dammit.
    Austin's cerulean eyes drank in the home's white interior, then shifted my way. His shapely lips parted.
    Our eyes met and my body tensed.
    Uh, hi Austin. How've you been? Too bad the polite greeting wouldn't tumble from my lips. Not only had I lost my voice but I got hopelessly lost—captivated by twinkling eyes of dark aqua.
    Joe must've sensed our uncouth connection. His gaze switched between Austin and me; then he shrugged it off, playfully slapped Austin's back.
    “Great to see ya, Son. Beth cleaned and fixed up your room so it's all ready.”
    "Thanks Dad." Austin rubbed his strong, clenched jawline.
    "I'm gonna watch the football game, so you're welcome to join." Joe's smile collapsed when he turned and headed for the family room. He hurried past as if I weren't there.
    Same shit. New day.
    Joe had never been much of an affectionate man, but lately he acted more aloof than ever. Once— just once it'd be nice for Joe to hug me, love me. To have and hold me like he'd once promised.
    I needed to feel loved and wanted. By coincidence I noticed Austin's gaze on me, those iridescent eyes brightened by the overhead light.
    “Hi Bethany.” His gaze grew chilly as he gave a curt nod.
    Austin's emotionless demeanor confused me. His velvety tone made me dizzy. And what the hell was that delicious-smelling cologne he wore? A spicy sort of scent.
    Damn .
    "Hi Austin. It's g—good to see you." Please don't pass out. I braced my hand to the wall, steadied myself.
    He started forward. "Are you alright, Beth? You seem—"
    "I'm fine, really. I just got dizzy for a second." Heat invaded my face.
    “Ah, okay then. Anyhow it's good to see you too. I uh, also see you're showing.” He nodded at my stomach.
    At about six months of pregnancy, my belly resembled a puffed-out balloon that obscured anything below. Anything . I no longer knew what my pussy looked like; I hadn't seen the fuzzy thing in ages.
    And neither had my husband.
    “Dr. Levy says the