Page 75 of Driven Daddy

“Sex.” The earlier softness was now more like freezer-burned ice cream. “Great sex even. Isn’t that enough?”

I should be jumping for joy. This was what every single man in the world would want, but it left a bad taste in my mouth. Where only hours before, her honeyed taste had filled all my senses, and here when we’d been making out like a pair of teenagers.

It felt right in a way I hadn’t expected to find.

Especially here in the Cove.

She pushed me back and jumped down. “You expect me to be into a guy who shows nothing but contempt for my work?”

“I apologized.”

“For what, exactly?”

“For not understanding.”

“Understanding that what I do is just as important as you?”

I jerked back. “I never said that.”

“It’s what you meant. Look, I’ve dealt with men like you my entire career. Looking down on what I do because it’s a love story. Look at literature, pal. There’s a love story in almost every book out there. But not yours.”

“That’s not what my character is about. It’s okay for there to be differences out there. I’m well aware of that.”

“Bet your series would be even better if you put some actual empathy in it. Maybe you should read one of my books and see what it’s like to have an emotional thread in a story. Not just revenge.”

The fact that a few of my later books had reviews saying exactly that, threw my back up.

“I’d say my sales say otherwise.” My voice was tight and this side of a growl.

“Men who just want violence and retribution.”

“It’s good enough that you read it.”

“It used to be great. Your characters were well-rounded and interesting, but lately, you’ve been diving deeper and deeper in the hate. Where’s the character growth?”

“Now you’re a critic?” The buzzing in my head was a low hum.

“No, I’m just a reader.”

“I don’t need your critique, and if you want to leave a shit review on the volume go ahead, but I don’t need to listen to it.”

“But all good for you to say the same about mine, right? Drivel, I think was the word.”

“So, that’s what this is about? Now who’s into revenge, huh?” My chest tightened as anger simmered and bubbled up into offense.

“This is exactly why we wouldn’t work for anything other than sex, Penn. Right here.”

Bruce picked up on the tension and whined.

“Guess that’s that, then. You can email me what you want to do at the workshop.” I walked backward toward the sliding glass door.

She stood in the kitchen, her hands fisted at her sides and her mouth still swollen from mine.

How the hell had this gone so fucking wrong? And why did my chest hurt so goddamn much?

THIRTEEN

The lush stringsof the Taylor Swift song filled my head. The longing ache in the words was so evocative and perfect for the scene I was trying to write.

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