Page 32 of Daddies' Little Troublemaker

Absolutely not. “We’ll see,” I say.

I’m just keeping her happy for now, though. She’s far too drunk to consent to anything.

“I’m glad you’re here,” the dark-haired friend tells me. Mia, I think, or no, Maya. “We didn’t want to put her in a car with a stranger. She could crash with us, but she’s saying she wants to go home with you.” She gives me a good once-over. “Who are you, again?”

“This,” Evelyn says with a flourish, “is Caleb.”

She stops there, as if announcing my first name for a second time will suffice.

“Caleb Swann,” I say. “I work with her dad’s stepbrother.”

“You trust this guy?” Sawyer whispers to Evelyn.

Evelyn nods. “Yep yep.”

“Okay,” Maya says. “We’re going to head out. I’ll be texting you tomorrow, Evelyn, okay?”

We all stand up. Evelyn throws her arms around Maya and Sawyer. “I’m so happy for you two. I’m so happy we met up again. Let’s still be friends okay? Group texts and coming here to The Dive and making new fun memories.”

“Absolutely,” Sawyer’s voice is full of conviction. “And I am happy to provide my services for ruining your sister’s wedding, just let me know the date and how many gallons of red paint to bring. I’ll come down on her ass, Carrie-style.”

Maya and Evelyn cackle, and we finally make our way out of the bar. More tearful goodbyes, and then Evelyn allows me to help her into the car. As I buckle her in, I have to lean past her face.

She plants a kiss on my cheek, startling me.

“Thanks, Caleb,” she says. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Me, too,” I say, but my voice is heavy. She mentioned expectations for the night, and I’m going to have to disappoint her.

“You don’t sound happy. I could get a ride if you don’t wanna hang out,” she says.

“That’s not it at all.”

“You’re mad at me.”

“Not in the slightest.”

She pouts. “Will Daddy be mad?”

If only Lincoln could hear her call him that, outside of a scene. It might just kill him because he’d like it so fucking much. And I want her to call me daddy, too, but not yet. Not without talking about it first.

“He might be mad.”

She toys with the pendant on her necklace. “He’ll be mad when he hears us fucking, won’t he?”

I say, “Not tonight, doll. We aren’t going to fuck. You aren’t sober.”

“You’re…a gentleman,” she says, patting my cheek. “Honorable.”

I pull away, shut the door after her, and walk to my side of the car. It’s not honorable to do the bare fucking minimum in human decency, and it’s sad that she thinks it is.

“We’ll fuck some other time, though,” she says as I climb behind the wheel and start the car. The engine purrs, loud and powerful.

“I hope so,” I say, shooting her a quick smile.

“I’m wet just thinking about it,” she says.

“Fuck, you can’t say things like that, doll. You’re going to kill me.”

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