I popped another nut into my mouth. “You still are. I got my looks from you. And you always say I’m too pretty for my own good.” I chewed in thought. “You know, Father, since you like those marriage contracts so much, you could always sign yourself up again—”
“No!” he cut me off fast. Then he breathed and stated more calmly, “Don’t be cheeky.”
I laughed in pure malicious entertainment. “You don’t like those tables being turned on you, huh?”
“Hush,” he muttered. “So when can I see you?”
“Miss me already?”
“What I don’t miss is your dishes left everywhere. It’s been nice having a clean kitchen.”
I glanced at all of the food I had scattered over Godric’s kitchen counter. His pantry was stuffed with so many items that I’d just grabbed whatever looked good. I would have to clean the mess up after I finished eating.
“So when can I see you?” my father pestered.
My eyes narrowed at his tone. “Everything all right?”
He was quiet for too long.
“Father?”
“Actually, Poppy, I received an interesting photo of you. I’d like to talk to you about it in person, not like this.”
“What kind of photo?” I asked cautiously.
My bracelet buzzed. I tapped on it.
A hologram picture formed in front of me.
“That photo,” my father said, his voice quiet.
I sucked in a harsh breath.
The fear of it being a photo of Godric and me on the front lawn of King Corporation vanished. It was much worse than us sitting side-by-side in the grassy courtyard eating lunch together. This photo was intimate and left nothing to the imagination.
Godric’s beautiful naked flesh was on full display from the backside. He was on his knees on the bed, his face tilted to the side showing his profile. And he had me pinned to the headboard, my head thrown back in ecstasy with my bare limbs wrapped around his body.
My father cleared his throat. “That is Mr. King, correct?”
“Yes,” I croaked, my voice filled with guilt.
“And that is a bedroom on my base. Correct?”
I whispered, “Yes.”
He stopped speaking, quiet. So quiet.
I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed silent.
We didn’t speak for a full minute.
Then it only became worse.
Godric walked into the kitchen on silent feet, griping in exasperation, “Poppy, everyone is arriving. If you’re done eating, we need to start discussing what happened today.”
But he jerked to a stop, his eyes caught on the photo before me. The man blinked slowly. His head cocked as he evaluated the picture, his eyes narrowing in slow cooking fury.
Then he bellowed, “What the fuck is that?”
