“No, he just left on a call. Dinner will be ready in a minute. You'll join me, won't you? You know I hate eating alone.”
John was always big about family dinners, especially after Addy’s mom got up and left them. John and Addy’s mom were high school sweethearts, but she never wanted to be a mother. Addy was a complete surprise, and John convinced her mom they could be a great, happy family. That lasted just over a year.
When Addy was six months old, he proposed. She turned him down, signed over her parental rights, and left for L.A. to become an actress, saying that she could never settle in a small town. That was the last we saw of her, other than the few small roles she plays on TV every once in a while.
So, Addy grew up with family dinners. Anytime I was in town, I would eat with them. It's not very often she has to eat by herself, and something tugs at my heart not to force her to do it tonight since I am here.
“Yeah, I can stay,” I say, kicking my boots off in the entryway.
The two of us spending time together alone is a dangerous game to play, but it's just dinner.
“Perfect. I just have to set the table, and we'll be ready to eat. I'll save a plate for my dad for when he gets home,” she says, and I follow her into the kitchen.
Whatever she's cooking smells amazing. Addy took over the cooking about the time she entered high school and got tired of the same old five meals that John knew how to cook. Since then, she's become one of the best cooks that I know outside of my buddy Mack’s wife, Lily, who is a caterer, and Bear, who is pretty damn good in the kitchen for being such a huge motherfucker.
I watch Addy as she grabs plates to set the table. But when she goes to grab the cups, she has trouble reaching them since they are on the back of the shelf and just slightly out of her reach, even on her tippy toes.
She stretches, and the cotton shorts she is always wearing at the first sign of warmer weather ride up, revealing the bottom curve of her ass. Her shirt rises too, showing a couple inches of skin on her stomach, and my cock is harder than it has a right to be.
“Being short sucks,” she giggles. “Can you help me?”
I stand up and walk over to her, but she doesn't move to the side. I crowd her in, reaching for the glasses. My cock accidentally rubs over her ass before I pull. I swear she wiggles her ass against my cock for just a moment.
Had it been anyone else, I would assume they were flirting, but not Addy. There's no way this girl who's eighteen years younger than me has any interest in me other than as her father's best friend.
“Addy? Stone? I’m home. Everything okay?” John’s voice calls from the front door and we shoot apart to opposite sides of the room.
Our eyes lock, and I get a feeling we just crossed the line I’ve been holding myself back from.
