Page 93 of Vengeful Guard

Paige sighs. “Da, I love you, but I can’t live at home my whole life.”

“Why not? Everyone else is there. And I guess I was just hoping for you to be my little girl a little longer.”

I glance over at them, and Paige smiles wryly at her father.

“I’m twenty-seven, Da.”

“Still. You’re my baby, you know that, a’stor. I miss you when you’re not around.”

“I promise to make it to every family dinner from now on, and I’ll visit in between, too.”

Patrick smiles widely, finally letting go of her hands.

I shouldn’t keep watching. I shouldn’t keep staring at Paige, but watching her is my job, right?

It has nothing to do with how I feel a twitch in my boxers every time her mouth parts because I imagine it around my cock.

It has nothing to do with the way she arched up beneath me, the way she put her arms around my neck to kiss me deeply, rolling her hips against me.

She keeps saying it’s a one-time thing. I keep thinking it needs to remain a one-time thing. But I don’t know if I can keep that up.

I want her again. Crave her. Can’t get enough.

Why, of all the women in Chicago, is it Paige Burke I got addicted to?

24

PAIGE

There’s no way I’m coming back to the mansion. That would be the first step to losing my independence forever.

It’s not that I lived in a gilded cage or anything like that before I moved out, but being the youngest gets tiresome when people keep forgetting you are no longer a baby. After the attack, that feeling would be tenfold.

I’d suffocate.

Speaking to my father feels good, but not enough to go back. I don’t want to move backward. Living at my own place full-time has been enlightening, shown me that I can be enough.

Well, on my own plus Kael.

If I didn’t have him protecting me, would I feel as safe on my own? Probably not, but that could be just because the attack was so recent. It’s not like it means anything. Right?

As I sit there looking at my father and trying to keep my gaze from trailing over to Kael, a man in a three-piece suit walks up to us.

“I’m so sorry to intrude. My name is Ricardo Giamatti. I’m the owner of this restaurant. It’s named after my daughter.”

Da turns to him with a smile. “Patrick Burke.”

“Lovely to meet you, sir.” It seems that Ricardo already knows who my father is, like maybe he’s coming over to pay his respects. “I’d like to offer you two a dessert, on the house.”

“Cheesecake?” Da knows it's my favorite, and I smile and nod.

“That would be lovely.”

“Cheesecake it is,” Ricardo says, standing up straighter and clapping his hands together. “We appreciate your patronage, Mr. Burke.”

He pauses. “Miss Burke.”

I blink up at him, surprised that he knows me by sight. I suppose the Burkes are more famous than I know.

---