Page 8 of Daddy's Pride

“What do you do?”

“Officially or really?”

I chuckle. “Both.”

“Officially, I do marketing for my brother’s cleaning company. Unofficially, I’m also the receptionist, pseudo-accountant, complaints manager, and errand boy.”

“Sounds tough.”

“Yes, which is why I needed a break.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll arrange for someone to pick your car up tomorrow, and then you’ll be on your way to Scarborough.”

Harris smiles. “I’d better call the bed and breakfast I’m supposed to be staying at and let them know I’ve been held up.”

“You’ll have to wait until we get to the house for reception.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“You should also call whoever you were meeting there.”

Harris walks backwards, hands behind his back. “What makes you think I’m meeting someone?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Nope.”

That tidbit of information shouldn’t make me happy, although it’s impossible to deny that Harris’s behaviour is flirty, so why shouldn’t I reciprocate?

“Who would I be meeting?” he asks.

I shrug. “A boyfriend?”

“Nope. I’m single. What about you? I already know you’re hiding bodies in your cellar. Are you hiding a boyfriend in your bedroom?”

“No boyfriend.”

“But you are hiding bodies?”

I chuckle. “No.”

“I guess that should make me feel a lot safer.”

“Have you felt unsafe here?”

“With you? No. How could I feel unsafe in the company of a big, strong military man?”

“Ex-military.”

“Small detail.” He stumbles backwards. He gasps, flailing his arms.

I catch his wrist and tug him toward me, stopping him from falling. He crashes into my chest, his hand between my pecs.

“Maybe you shouldn’t walk backward,” I say.

“Probably not. You saved me from disaster number six. You’re, err, really strong.” Red-faced, he pulls his hand away and walks alongside me once more. “You must work out a lot.”

“Not as much as when I was in the army. Decorating can be quite the workout, and I’ve run the assault course a few times to ensure it’s safe.”

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