She sticks her tongue out at me. “Spoilsport.”
I snort and turn back to the stove. Scrambled eggs were always her favorite. The secret is two eggs and two tablespoons of water. Nothing else. The water bubbles up and makes the eggs fluffy. While the eggs are bubbling, I pop bread into the toaster and slice up tomatoes and avocados.
Within ten minutes, I’ve plated our breakfast for lunch, and we’re eating in silence.
Well, mostly silence until Camellia starts moaning about the eggs. “Oh my GOD! These are delicious.”
Damn it. Those moans remind my cock of a long-lost sweaty closet fling. I mentally sort through my to-do list, willing my dick to stand down. He listens about as good as I did as a probie.
I clear my throat. “You like the eggs?”
Camellia levels a sexy gaze at me, then at my crotch. “I’ve always liked your eggs.”
I swallow as she stands from the stool and moves to my side. I swivel around until I’m looking at her. She steps between my legs, placing her hands on my knees and slowly running them up to my thighs.
When she leans in to kiss me, I pull back. “Camellia.”
The storm clouds cross her face as fire breaks out in her eyes. I brace myself for the tongue lashing I’m about to receive, and not the good kind either, when we’re interrupted.
“What the hell is going on?”
I turn to see Dahlia standing in the kitchen.
Camellia looks between my daughter and me, then barks out a laugh. “You always did have a type, asshole.”
In one fell swoop, Camellia turns away and hightails it down the hallway toward the front door.
“Wait! Camellia, wait!” I shout.
“Daddy?”
“Now is not the time, Dahlia,” I hold up my hand as I chase after Camellia.
I catch up to her in the front yard. Her hands are clenching and unclenching, like she’s trying to determine who she’ll punch first.
“Camellia,” I shout.
She whirls around. “What? What the hell, Aaron? You bring me to your house for a nice little threesome with yourmuch youngergirlfriend? New wife?”
“Uh, yeah, not like that at all,” I shake my head. “I didn’t expect Dahlia home.”
Camellia snorts then spits on the ground at my feet. “Oh! I bet you didn’t! Once again, you expect me to be on the back burner while your real woman is front and center, with a key to your house. AndDahlia? What? Do you have a thing for women with flower names? You disgust me!”
With that, she turns away and heads toward the street. I don’t know where she’s going, but it looks like she’s planning to walk back to town.
“Camellia! Hold on!” I run to catch up with her. She may be petite, but she’s freaking fast. I grab her arm and force her to stop. “Stop. Wait.”
“For what?”
“For me to explain!”
“What will you explain, Aaron? The woman inside your house? Or why you left me more than twenty years ago?”
The words fall on me like an anvil. Camellia pops her fists on her hips, tilts her head, and raises her eyebrows, waiting for an answer.
I take a deep breath. “You’ve asked a lot of questions. Can we please go back inside? I’ll answer all of your questions if you come with me.”
She shakes her head. “No. Tell me here. I refuse to be anyone’s dirty little secret.”
I open my mouth. Dahlia steps out on the porch. “Is everything okay out here?”
“Dahlia, go back inside,” I order.
When she doesn’t budge, I look at Camellia. “Yes. I have a thing about women with flower names. Especially that one. She’s my daughter.”
