Page 199 of Morally Gray Daddies

When have we ever been able to keep things quiet?

Katie

Who has a new girlfriend?

Paisley

Patrick does.

Kieran

Why the fuck did I get added to this chat?

I grin when Kieran leaves the group, and Paisley posts an eye-roll emoji.

Paisley

He’s always such a grumpy-pants.

Chloe

So tell us about your girlfriend. Can we meet her? Is she nice? Does she like makeup?

Cali

Does she like piranhas?

Shaking my head, I silence my phone and slide it back into my pocket. Those brats can wait until tomorrow to pry information from me. They like to torture me so much; now it’s my turn.

When I raise my head, Ana’s gaze is on me, but as soon as she notices me glancing at her, she looks in the other direction.

I take a couple of bottles of water to the table and then grab my food before I go to sit next to her. She watches my every movement like a hawk until I’m seated and eating. After what feels like several minutes, she finally picks up her fork again and takes a bite. As she chews, she closes her eyes and drops her shoulders, a tiny smile playing at her lips.

“It’s good, huh? Helen makes the best food. Try a bite of this steak. It’s my favorite.” I slide the plate over to her and leave it as I eat the meatloaf.

She stares at me for a second like she’s unsure what to do. Finally, her hunger seems to get the best of her, and she stabs a piece of the meat. When she puts it in her mouth, she hums, and I’m suddenly hot all over.

Jesus Christ. That’s a beautiful fucking sound.

Her gaze flies up to mine, and she blushes, and I’m hard as a fucking rock over her. Shit. This is bad. So bad. The last thing this woman needs is me getting turned on by the noises she makes.

For the rest of the meal, I avoid eye contact, even when I offer her some meatloaf. I’m pleased as hell when she accepts it, and by the time we’re done, the plates are wiped clean, and she’s holding her tummy.

“Feel better?” I pick up the plates, including hers, and take them to the sink.

I’m caught completely off guard when she rushes to my side and tries to take over.

“I’ve got it, Anastasia,” I say as gently as I can. “Why don’t you watch TV or soak in the tub? There’s all kinds of bath bombs and stuff in there.”

She furrows her eyebrows, her nose scrunched in confusion.

“Do you know what bath bombs are, Anastasia?”

When she shakes her head, I mentally add another strike next to her father’s name. He’s a dead man. That’s all there is to it.

“Come. I’ll show you. Do you like baths?”

Her eyes sparkle as she bobs her head enthusiastically. I don’t miss the way she bounces on the balls of her feet, but I don’t say anything to bring attention to it.

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