Page 105 of Daddy By Design

What was wrong with her kitty?

Cat. It had to be the cat.

I didn’t want to think about the other meaning for kitty. And Christ, my body already hummed at the thought of helping her out with whatever she wanted right about then.

“Good luck.” TJ’s gaze crashed into mine. “I have your address and your personal information. If you do something to her, your life won’t be worth living.”

At least that threat was a little more inventive than Macy and Gideon’s. “She’s safe with me.”

“Hmm.” TJ hugged Dahlia once more for good measure. “See you Monday, girlfriend.”

“Bye, Dahl. We took care of the check.” Avery waggled her eyebrows before she ducked out the door, dragging TJ along with her.

“What’s wrong with your cat?”

Dahlia slipped her arm through mine. “Let’s walk, shall we?”

How did I go from having to convince her that she needed to go home to that secretive look in her deep, dark eyes?

She was a little steadier once she got to the hallway leading back into the main seating area of the bar, except for the way she kept brushing my arm with her breast.

A blond dude at the bar gave me a sharp look. He didn’t take his eyes off me while he asked, “Dahlia? You good?”

“Yes. We’re...friends. Don’t worry. Thanks, Colder.”

The way she paused at the word friends made me feel like worm food, but she was right. We weren’t anything except two people who’d already had a lot of hot moments, both fighting-wise and sexual. Not necessarily her choice, either.

I knew she would be open to more. Could feel it in the way she reached out for me. Not to mention all the words left unsaid in those beseeching eyes that haunted me.

I wasn’t good for her. Wasn’t good for anyone, really.

That didn’t seem to matter to Dahlia. She tucked herself under my arm and I had little choice but to put my arm around her. It was as if she was made for my body in so many ways. Her hand rested on my chest as we came to a pause in the median.

It was a community space of sorts lined with trees and benches, as well as a few dog-watering stations. It reminded me of Crescent Cove without the overt small-town vibe. This was more urban young professional.

“I need a little air before we go inside.” She steered me to the bench under the canopy of trees. “Clear my head a bit.”

When she looked at me like that, there was very little I could say no to when it came to her. I let her sit first and she grabbed my hand, to pull me down with her. “Hellcat...”

“I’m not asking for undying devotion here. Just freaking sit down for a second and be. Can you do that?”

Sighing, I sat down.

Instead of staying on her side of the bench, she swung her legs up across mine. “My feet are killing me.”

“No one made you wear those ice picks.”

She flexed her foot and her calves tightened. “But they make my legs look amazing.” She gave me a wicked smile when I said nothing. “I know they do. You don’t have to agree.”

I ground my molars together. “You know you’re beautiful.”

“And you know you’re an asshole. Some things don’t need to be said, right?”

“You’re a mouthy drunk.”

She leaned forward and said in an Irish whisper, “I’m just unfiltered. There’s a difference.”

“Is that right?” I didn’t realize I’d dropped my arm over her legs. My thumb automatically stroked her knee.

---