Page 96 of Driven Daddy

“Why are you calling me?” Larsen’s voice was dry.

“You know full well why.”

“Yes, but that text was four hours ago.”

Guilt hit me sideways. Larsen had come out to help with our printing issues and I was distracted with anything but lately. “Okay, okay. Things got a little…intense.”

“I do not want to know about your sex life, son.”

“Not that.” Though that had been part of it. But there had been so much else going on between me and Rita. More than I even realized. “Where were you last night? You usually can’t resist my mom’s lasagna.”

“Dammit. I didn’t know it was lasagna night.”

I was glad he hadn’t been around after what had happened with Rita the night before. I had a feeling she wouldn’t have shared all that with me last night if there had been more people at the house. Hell, I’d been lucky one of my brothers hadn’t been there as well.

It would have been good for Rita on one hand, and probably more overwhelming on the other.

Now that I knew a little more about her, a lot of things were making much more sense.

Suddenly, the car sounds dented my subconsciousness. “Where the hell are you?”

“In the car.”

“Obviously. Are you meeting with Asher without me?”

“No. I did make nice with his wife’s very sweet friend, Gabby, at the café. Which is why I now I have Asher’s contact information, if you must know.”

“What? You charmed it out of her?”

“No. I advised her that I had a business opportunity if he was interested.”

I snorted as I slid out of the bed and hiked my jeans on. Since Rita had stolen my shirt, I headed down the stairs without it. It was cooler than yesterday, but not by much. The scent of toast and bacon made my stomach growl.

“Was that bacon I hear?”

“How the hell can you hear that through the phone?”

“Because it’s my favorite thing. I’m on my way.”

“I’m not at my parents’ house.”

He was silent for a beat. “And just might where you be?”

I sighed. “Remember where my brother lives?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll see signs for Vista Cottage.”

Because my best friend was very smart, it took him a second to read between the lines. “Are you at the fair Rita’s cottage?”

“Maybe.” I padded across the kitchen to snake an arm around her to filch a piece of bacon from the plate.

“I’m still coming over. And you’re feeding me.”

“You were just at Macy’s place. I’m sure you’ve been fed.” I kissed Rita’s neck and laughed when she stole the bacon back and bit into it. I murmured, “cruel woman,” and took a piece of toast instead.

I spotted something big and dark out of the corner of my eye and went to the sliding door to let Rita’s ever-present guest in. I ruffled his ears and then padded outside to my car. My messenger bag was in the backseat. At least I could get a little work done before Larsen gate-crashed.

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