Page 33 of Feel Me

I only hope he can.

Miles confided in me that Mel visits him almost every night after work. He’s worried about her. I am, too. It’s like all this woman knows is SACU and her dad. It wouldn’t be so bad if Miles wasn’t so sick. But he is.

She keeps her chin up and I admire her for it. But if she gave me the chance, I’d like to give her more to smile about, more to enjoy in life. Except every time I ask her out, she shoots me down.

“Did they cater a menu to your needs?” I ask, pretending like I belong here as much as she does, despite the way she’s covering her face.

“Salmon stuffed with black beans, covered with a zesty diablo sauce over tortellini,” Miles says. He makes a face. “But when Melissa informed them of my recent surgery he switched it to polenta with a light mushroom sauce.” He narrows his eyes at his daughter, feigning anger he doesn’t quite manage. “She gets the good stuff. I get cornbread topped with mushrooms.”

“I’m not surprised,” I say. “That daughter of yours is too much of a rule follower for her own good.”

She ignores my reference to her “thou shall not date a co-worker” commandment. “It’ll be easier to digest.” She points at me. “And you butt out, counselor.”

“Now, Melissa,” he says, “Is this any way to talk to our guest?”

“Dad, behave. You’re already in trouble with me. Cozy dinner my Aunt Fanny,” she mumbles.

I lift my water glass and take a sip, enjoying the exchange between Melissa and her father.

“You hear how she treats me?” Miles asks. “You’d think after all those dates I gave up to take her to the movies, and door to door selling those damn cookies, she’d show me a little respect.”

She crinkles her nose, laughing, although she’s trying to sound annoyed. “You never gave up any dates. If anything, you used your sweet little innocent daughter to get them.”

“Bullshit,” Miles says.

She turns to me, pegging me with an expression that tells me she’s up to no good. “Okay, we’ll let Declan be the judge.”

I hold up a hand. “Oh, no. I’m only here for a delicious drama free meal.”

Melissa ignores me, edging her seat closer until our knees bump. If her old man wasn’t here, my hand would be finding its way on that knee. She’s in a seafoam green dress with capped sleeves and she looks fucking fantastic.

“Okay,” she says, motioning to her breasts. “You might have guessed I hit puberty a little young.”

I try not to laugh and even harder not to look. I fail on both counts. Melissa notices, her eyes widening briefly before she averts her gaze and glances at me with lowered lashes. Aw, hell, she’s sexy.

She clears her throat, edging a little further from me. “Dad was oblivious. ‘You don’t need those things’, he said when I asked him to take me bra shopping.”

“Those things?” I ask, shifting my attention to Miles.

“Declan, I was more prepared to fly a plane around the world than I was for puberty. You’ll forgive me if I wasn’t exactly jumping up and down.”

“He was mortified,” Mel agrees. “Atfirst.”

“Oh, yeah?” I ask, catching the way Miles’s face reddens as he chuckles.

“Mmm-hmm. And I honestly felt bad for making him take me,” she admits. “But turns out, if you want to pick up women, all you have to do is take your little daughter to Victoria’s Secret and tell the horde?that’s righthordeof sales associates who rush you?andall the single mothers shopping there with their daughters listening in?how you don’t know the first thing about lingerie. And how tough it is being a single dad and trying do right by your daughter?”

“She’s exaggerating,” Miles interjects, reaching for his water.

“Am I?” she asks. “How many phone numbers did you get the first time we went there?”

Miles shrugs. “Six, maybe seven.”

Melissa rolls her eyes. “More like nine. His social calendar was booked for the next month.” She veers on her dad. “By your third date, I no longer believed you were hanging pictures in your bedroom.”

“Hanging pictures?” I ask, taking another sip of water.

Mel purses her lips. “It’s how he explained all the banging coming from his bedroom.”

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