Page 6 of Driven Daddy

“That sounds really nice. I just have my laptop bag and my purse in the car. Oh, and shameful bag full of candy from a drugstore raid.”

Kelly laughed. “I bet I can find you an old pair of sweatpants to cover you tonight until you go out tomorrow. And wait until you see the shower in your suite. Or, if you like, there’s a big, jetted tub too.”

“This is not going to staunch my tears, Kelly.”

She laughed. “This cottage has put more than one person back together over the years. I bet it will be just what you need.”

I let her lead me inside. For the first time, hope felt within my grasp.

Tomorrow would be better. I was sure of it.

TWO

I stumbled down the stairs,fuzzy from the late drive into Crescent Cove. I’d gotten about four hours of sleep before my father started knocking around in his office.

I supposed I should be grateful that he’d waited until after ten. The Masterson house was full of early risers. I’d always been the black sheep there. Hell, I was the black sheep in many ways.

I scraped my hand over my beard. It was getting a little out of control. Had I even brought my clippers with me? Fuck.

That was a problem for after coffee. I winced as I neared the bottom of the stairs. Staying at my childhood home was a lot different these days. I peeked around the corner to see a trio of kids at the wide dining room table.

The table that would be filled to bursting with people for the monthly dinner tomorrow night.

Which was one of the reasons I was in town.

The other was a signing at a small, local bookstore. It just seemed easier to stay in Crescent Cove instead of hurrying back to the city where I spent most of my time.

I used to split my time between Los Angeles and New York City, but I’d sold my condo in LA for startup money for my newpublishing house. And I was rapidly flying my way through that startup money.

“There you are. I thought I was going to have to send your father in to rouse you.”

I gave my mother a wan smile. JoAnn Masterson was fit and didn’t look her age in the least. Retirement was treating her just fine these days, that was for sure. Her sugared chestnut hair was pulled up on top of her head with a neon yellow tie that matched her yoga pants.

A bit eye-searing for this early in the day.

Thankfully, her oversized sweatshirt was in a more sedate gray.

Knowing my duty, I went over to kiss her cheek before disappearing into the kitchen for some lifeblood. Not quite like my character Moksha. I didn’t eat souls, but coffee sometimes felt like it was returning mine to its body.

My mother’s coffee was a wonder. I drew in a deep whiff of Brewed Awakening’s dark roast with a sigh. I’d have to remember to pick up a few bags of her roasted beans before I left. It was even better than the cafés in Chelsea.

Cheaper too.

“Uncle Penn!”

I turned to find Carrington behind me. Her waist-length blond hair was tangled around her shoulders and down her back. A smear of something that looked like chalk or maybe pastels covered her cheek. “Hey, Care Bear.” I reached out and swiped my thumb out to get the powder off her freckled cheeks. “What’s shaking?”

She wrinkled her nose and rubbed at her cheek, then looked down at her hand. “Ugh. I was finishing a project for art class. Wanna see?”

“Of course I do.” I snagged a muffin off the counter, also from Brewed Awakening, and ripped off the cellophane before following her out of the kitchen.

It was my job to make sure my nieces and nephews kept art in their lives.

Carrington climbed onto her chair, her long legs bent in impossible angles that only a child could manage. She whipped her hair out of her face and did a few more scrawls with the soft pastels.

“I thought you were a markers girl.”

Carrington rolled her eyes. “I only use markers for coloring. I got these from Miss Colette’s shop. I love that I can smudge all my colors together better.”

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