Page 39 of The Hot New Single Dad Next Door

“Have you,” she says, her lips parting for an even deeper kiss.

“Yes,” I sigh, my cock growing hard, her skin so soft. “Lottie, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met.”

She chuckles. “Since I harassed you and called you an asshole?”

“You called me an asshole?”

“Well, I thought it.”

I chuckle as I roll her onto her back. “What can I say? That’s my fetish.” I kiss her again, eager to take her all over again, but there’s still something left to be said. “If you still hate me, I get it,” I say, breaking the kiss, ready to walk away if she asks me to.

But Lottie smiles. “I don’t.”

“Even though I stole your bakery?” I ask.

“You didn’t steal it,” she says. “You stole a building. The dream is still there.” She touches my cheek. “And you...”

“What?” I ask when she goes quiet.

She swallows hard, hesitating. “You made a different dream come true,” she says, finding the words. “Liam. The way he hid behind you like that...” She smiles. “I think he likes you.”

“I like him, too.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” I hold her hand, my heart pounding now. “Lottie, I won’t let anything happen to you. Either of you. If Mark comes back here, he’ll have to get through me.”

She releases a breath, shaking. “Are you sure?”

I kiss her; a promise made. “Yes.”

As I move to push between her thighs, she laughs softly and breaks the kiss. “We should check on the kids,” she says.

I sigh, but nod. “Continue this tonight?”

“Tonight,” she agrees with a smile. “It’s a date.”

We reluctantly pull ourselves out of bed, quickly getting dressed before making our way down the hall to the kids.

Fortunately, it’s still early, and they’re still sleeping, though it doesn’t take much to jostle them up for breakfast.

My cellphone buzzes on the coffee table. I answer it.

“Is this Scott Smolders?” a voice asks.

“Yes,” I say.

“Sorry to call you so early, Mr. Smolders. This is Sheriff Spelling. I’m afraid I have some bad news for you.”

12

LOTTIE

Tish’s jaw drops. “Holy crap.”

“That’s so scary,” Mika says.

I sneak another sip of coffee. “The shop is completely wrecked,” I say, visions of smashed windows and paint-covered walls filling my head.

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