Page 29 of Mayhem

“And…?”

“I don’t like the idea of anyone else looking at you…”

That gets my heart racing, and I can feel my body electrify. So, she’s the possessive type. Or at least the one-man type. I think I might like that. Actually, I’m positive that I do.

“Well, it is kind of my job,” I tease, sliding closer, and resting my thigh against hers. The warmth of her body next to me is exhilarating. I want to be even closer.

“I know,” she smiles, biting her lip and looking everywhere in the room except at me. It’s fucking adorable. She’s an absolutely horrible flirt, and it’s even more attractive to me.

“So…when will date number two be?” I ask, leaning over and whispering the question in her ear. I can see her visibly shudder at my words, and a thrill runs through me that I have such an effect on her.

She finally glances over her shoulder at me, her suddenly shy eyes meeting mine. When they do, that electric current between us sparks to life again.

“I’m ready for it whenever you are.”

Holy fucking shit. She’s going to be the end of me, I know it. I can’t with the sensuality that just oozes from her when she’s not even fucking trying. How does she do that? Just a fucking look or a word from her and I’m completely undone.

“Let me find out when the next sleepover is…” I say immediately without thinking, and head over to where Ian is talking with Dakota. I’m on a fucking mission to schedule that sleepover for Charlie and make date two happen. And soon.

Whenever it happens, it won’t be soon enough.

18

SWEET DISPOSITION

TESS

What has gotten into me? I’ve turned into some sort of feral cat in heat all of a sudden. I am not a flirt by any stretch of the imagination, but something about Brad just unravels me and my base instincts come out to play. From the looks of things, I don’t think he minds at all, but I could be all kinds of wrong.

As he leaves to go talk to Ian, Charlie takes his spot next to me on the couch, a sober expression on her cute little face. Her red curls are up in a bouncy ponytail today, accentuating her young age.

“So, how was your date with my dad?” she asks, as if it’s completely normal to talk about.

I am so thrown off kilter, I don’t know how to respond at first. I don’t want to get into details of anything that happened last night with Brad’s daughter.

“It was great,” I say, determined to keep things vague. This is a dynamic I didn’t plan for when dating someone with a child. I knew it would be different but didn’t anticipate this at all.

She eyes me skeptically, like a detective trying to solve an important case, and I’m the prime suspect evading justice.

“Just great?” she asks doubtfully, and I can tell she’s seeing right through me. “Did you guys kiss?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I say, raising my hands, trying to keep from blushing but failing miserably. “That’s awfully personal, isn’t it?”

Charlie shrugs noncommittally, as if personal questions are par for the course for her. I get the feeling they are. She might be too curious for her own good.

“Not really. I’m just curious.” She eyes me suspiciously again, and I can feel myself squirm a little under the scrutiny.

“How old are you again?” I ask, trying to change the subject quickly.

“I’ll be nine in a few months, but my dad says I’m going on thirty.”

“I can see that,” I nod. Wondering at her advanced maturity level. Is it because she’s usually around adults? Or something else? I recall Brad’s admission of being absent too much. That pain can age you faster than light.

“Are you going to go out again?” She’s like a dog with a bone on this subject.

This, I can at least answer truthfully. “I hope so, yeah.”

“Do you like him?”

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