Page 85 of Daddies' Little Troublemaker

We both lean back, content. We can talk about Paris tomorrow—it’s Sunday and Caleb and I don’t have to go to the city for anything.

I rest my arm over Evelyn’s chest, holding her close. Soon, she’s fast asleep again. I touch her house key to where it’s fallen away from her tank top and rests against her soft skin.

Imagine being like this, surrounded in this soft contentment, all the time. The very thought of it has me relaxing into sleep.

I wake suddenly, to the sound of the front door closing. My eyes fly open. Caleb’s still sleeping on the couch, and Evelyn is still cradled over our laps.

Keys jangle as they’re set on a table. Footsteps sound on the wood floor—a tread that I recognize.

Mark is home.

24

KINKY, FUN, AND TEMPORARY

Lincoln

There’s nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Evelyn’s still asleep on my lap, and Caleb hasn’t woken up.

The past few weeks flash through my head—that first night at Vice. Then realizing she was my step-niece. Watching her hook up with Caleb while I struggled to avoid her. Being miserable. And then finally giving in. Being happy for the first time since I was a boy.

And threaded throughout the entire one-month saga: guilt. Every time I thought of Mark, I worried about his reaction. I know why, too. I haven’t always been the best person. I have dominant kinks. To outsiders who don’t practice the lifestyle, it looks like I mistreat women.

This is his daughter, who he asked me to look after.

He’ll see this as a betrayal.

He steps into the living room, not realizing anyone is in here, and flicks on the light.

“Oh, Link, sorry—who—” He gapes.

Caleb and Evelyn wake up, startled by the light.

Mark stares between the three of us, likely trying to figure out if he’s seeing what he thinks he’s seeing—his daughter in lingerie, sleeping on top of two men.

Two men that Mark knows are kinky.

One of whom is his stepbrother.

“Dad, what are you doing home?” Evie asks, struggling to sit up. She’s tangled in the blanket I threw over her when we got home, but finally manages to get upright, her face flushed either with the effort or with the embarrassment of being caught. Probably both.

“I did what I promised, tried to end the contract early so I could get home and spend time with you. Surprise.” Mark rubs a hand down his face as if trying to wipe away the sight of us before him. “I can’t be seeing what I think I’m seeing. This isn’t right.”

Evelyn stands up, tugging the blanket with her. She has to if she doesn’t want her father to get an eyeful of her in lingerie. Caleb and I stand up on either side of her, but I’ve never felt farther apart from them both.

After a long moment of quiet, Evelyn says, “Dad, I’ve been wanting to talk to you in person?—”

He holds up a hand. Gently, he says, “I don’t want to hear from you right now, Pumpkin.”

Her mouth closes. Nobody speaks. I don’t know what I could possibly say that would make this better. Caleb knows to keep his mouth shut, so he’s doing that. At the same time, a part of me is irrationally angry that it isn’t his brother we’re at risk of alienating. It isn’t his only remaining family.

But being mad at Caleb is a convenient distraction from who I’m really mad at: myself.

I should’ve insisted we talk to Mark. I should’ve been patient, done things slowly, done things right. Now we’re in a clusterfuck and I can’t find a way out.

“Mark, I don’t know what to say,” I start.

“No. Don’t talk.” He’s breathing hard and he runs a hand roughly through his short hair. “Don’t fucking talk to me right now, brother.”

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