Chapter 4 - Sibling Rivalry

As Aimee stepped out into the hall, she saw Miss Fowler standing in front of her own door about to enter, her little Dachshund panting hard in her arms as she held it with its belly up as if it was a little baby. Aimee gave a silent groan and would have ducked back inside, but it was too late. That seemed to be the theme of her day. Miss Fowler already saw her. Miss Fowler saw everything.

"Well, good morning, Aimee. Heading to the pool? I can't say I blame you. It's a beautiful day for it. Duchess and I just got back from our morning stroll." At the sound of her name, Duchess rolled her head toward Aimee, stretching her neck out wanting some attention. "Stop squirming, Duchess." Miss Fowler tried to shake a loose strand of her gray hair out of her eyes as she glanced down at the dog.

Aimee reached out and scratched behind the dog's chocolate ears. "Good morning, Duchess." She glanced up at the older lady. "And how have you been?"

"Good, good. Of course, I'm not having to try and sleep with strange men in the house. I saw your sister's friend leave this morning. How can you sleep with someone you don't know in your home?"

"How do you know he wasn't my friend?"

Miss Fowler just gave her a "get serious" look and continued talking. "That's the third man this week. Is she going for a record? It doesn't help a girl's reputation, you know."

Aimee felt the heat flush her face at the older woman's rebuke, even though it wasn't directed at her, but at her sister. "Why do you assume she's doing something wrong? She just has a lot of friends. Besides, I can't do anything about what Karla does. She's her own woman."

"Well, she needs to take lessons from you. You're a respectable young woman. You'll go far, mark my words."

"Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get to the pool before the chairs are all gone." Aimee felt like she was just insulted. While she didn't want to behave like her sister, she didn't want the possibility so easily dismissed as ridiculous. The fact that Miss Fowler, who saw the worst in everyone, didn't think Aimee could have a man spend the night said too much about her prudish lifestyle.

Arriving at the pool, she noticed Clint Asher and his little three-year-old, Abigail, playing at the shallow end on the steps. Abigail had floaties around her upper arms and wore a fairy princess one-piece. Long, brown hair clung to the middle of her back, as she bounced up and down on the steps, splashing water in all directions. Aimee felt the blush warm her cheeks as she remembered her fantasies last night, and she felt her sex stir. She would go into a coma if he ever found out she masturbated with his face on her mind for the past few months. Well, since she met him, actually. She wondered if he would be as good in bed as he was in her mind.

Clint was twenty-eight, just three years older than her, but his being a father made him seem so much more mature in her eyes, the whole being a parent thing adding years where there weren't any. Responsibility will do that to a person. It makes you grow up. He was slender with just the right amount of muscle tone in his arms and chest, giving him a fit physique that she dreamed would be on top of her one day. His short, brown hair was cut in a no-nonsense business cut that brought out his hazel eyes, which always seemed to sparkle even on the worst of days. His life was his daughter and he was all little Abigail had, the mother preferring money to marriage and running off with some guy in a fancy convertible. How a mother could just walk out on someone so precious, Aimee would never understand. Abigail was adorable and Clint did a great job raising her by himself.

That was actually how Aimee impressed herself upon him when he moved into the Sea Breeze Condominiums seven months back. Aimee helped keep an eye on Abigail when Clint's company, a local construction firm that focused on flipping old properties, kept him working later than his nanny could stay or when his parents were unavailable. Aimee didn't mind, as Abigail had inherited her father's easy going manner. Besides, it allowed Aimee to get closer to Clint, except he saw her as nothing more than the friend who babysat for him once in a while. Their relationship was all in Aimee's head, just as her sex life was all in her fingers.

"Aimeeeee!" Abigail waved her arm as she screamed. Clint glanced up from where he was sitting on the steps. He smiled at her and offered a smaller wave than his daughter had, his smile slightly bashful, but pleasant.

Aimee nodded and smiled back, her hands too full to wave. "Beautiful day for the pool. I hope you don't mind me crashing your quietness."

"Quietness? With a three-year-old?" Clint laughed, as he shot her a playful, imploring look. "Please. Save me with some adult conversation."

"Aimee to the rescue." She pulled a lounge chair close to where they sat, but not too close. She witness Abigail in the pool before and knew what the splash zone of a toddler was. Aimee wanted sun, not a bath. "How has your week been?"

"Busy and boring, just the way I like it," he said, as he watched her get situated, his hands palm flat on the edge of the pool, holding himself up.

Aimee sprawled out on her towel-covered chair and picked up her book. She didn't need stripes up and down the flesh she desired to darken. Zebra stripes were not a fashion statement on anything other than zebras. "No fun adventures, huh?" She already knew what his answer would be, but it was one of those questions she always asked. Clint was a homebody much like herself, which is part of the reason they always seemed to get along so well.

"You know us single dads. The most excitement we get is wrestling a tot into pajamas before bed time. It'd be fun to hit a club once in a while, but I don't feel she should be with a babysitter at night after she's been with one all day. How about yours?"

"You know me, I spend most of my time trying to keep Karla in her pajamas." They both laughed. Aimee regaled him quite often with her sister's antics. Clint was one of the few men who had so far escaped Karla's clutches. To the best of Aimee's knowledge, the two hadn't even met, which was odd as Karla had a way of sniffing out single men. Of course, the fact he had a child would have scared her away. She didn't like responsibility. It wouldn't have mattered, however. Clint wasn't looking for a hook up. He only had eyes for Abigail and, when he wasn't working, the little girl devoured his time. It was one of the qualities Aimee admired about the man. His parents helped out now and then, but Aimee knew he didn't want to depend on them too often.