“I just—”
I’m not in the mood. The escape plan is between Trena and me. I spin on my stool to face him.
Damn! My breath hitches. Tingles take hold for the second time today. That makes two-for-two on older guys getting to me. Since when do I have a thing for older men? Or is this just my emotions running high from the breakup?
His eyes captivate me as much as his deep, gravelly voice. “I wouldn’t want—”
“Why don’t you be a good boy and mind your own business.” The last thing I need is someone trying to control me right now. And before I can stop myself, I boop him with my sticky finger. A very different move on a handsome stranger than doing it to my bestie.
Trena lets me get away with it every time. He doesn’t.
He grabs my wrist possessively, pausing for a moment. I’m not sure what to do. I’m the one who invaded his space. But the thing going on between us tells me space invasion is not the issue. I can almost sense how hard it is for him to resist.
“Whatcha gonna do?”
Before I can say ‘spank me’, he lowers my hand to his lips. The warmth of his breath warms my finger before his tongue slides out. I could pull away. I should pull away. I don’t. He takes my finger into his mouth.
How am I still sitting on the barstool? Every bone in my body has melted.
Trena’s hands are on my shoulders. I think she said something, but tunnel vision has taken over as he slurps off of my fingertip.
“Did you call me agood boy?” His voice has gone even deeper, wrapping around me the way he gripped my wrist—is still gripping my wrist.
Did I call him a good boy? I did. Where did that come from? For the first time in my life, I don’t know what to say. A nod is the best I can do.
“Next time, be a good girl and call me Daddy.”
We’re caught in a limbo of sexual tension and complete inappropriateness—and I’ve never felt like I belonged somewhere more.
His phone rings. He ignores it. His sole focus is on me.
“Fine, Daddy.”
“Cecilia!” Trena spins me, yanking my hands free from his grip. “Sorry, sir. We didn’t mean to bother you.”
Angling my head over my shoulder, I hope to recapture the feeling. It’s gone.
He’s answering his phone. “I walked into town. I’m at the diner. How’d it go with your son?”
I lick the rest of the frosting from my finger savoring the special intimacy that he just did the same.
His conversation continues. “Sorry, Lennox. That couldn’t have gone much worse. Stop in and we’ll find a bar.”
Crap, I’m not old enough to drink… a sure-fire reminder that this guy is way older than me. And so was the delicious dad bod earlier.
Chapter 4
Lennox
The one-minute drive from our rental house to the diner seems silly once I’ve done it. I’ll walk next time.
Blake is easy to pick out amongst the patrons at the counter.
But the woman next to him grabs my attention. Even from behind, the auburn hair on the petite frame unmistakably belongs to my son’s ex. If I needed help recognizing her, the woman next to her was her driver.
Life in a small town… How awkward will this be?
I grip Blake’s shoulder, unable to make myself sit, and instantly sense tension.
