Page 38 of Daddy's Heart

“I know what you mean.” He wrapped his arms around her again. Her phone dinged several times in succession from the nightstand, drawing his attention.

“Probably just Paul checking up on me again.”

“Who is Paul?” he asked.

“My brother. He’s a bit of a worrier.” She waved a hand and maneuvered her way to the chirping device.

Her brother. She had an older brother who probably wouldn’t think it was appropriate for her to play with her host.

“Everything okay?” he asked when her brows knit in concern.

“Yeah, fine.” She sank down onto the bed as she tapped out a response.

“It doesn’t look like it,” he pointed out with his hands on his hips. “What’s going on?” he asked when her text messages were going out as quickly as they were coming in.

“My brother is being annoying. One sec. I’ll meet you out there.” She flashed him a placating smile.

“If something’s wrong, you can tell me. You know that, right?” Just because they weren’t looking to ride off into the sunset didn’t mean he wouldn’t be by her side in a second if she needed him. What sort of Daddy would that make him if he didn’t?

“I know,” she said, but didn’t look up from her phone. “I swear. It’s fine. I’ll be right there. Promise.”

He tapped each finger with this thumb, deciding whether to push harder or give space.

“Okay,” he said on a sigh. “Two minutes, then I’m coming in here to check on you,” he added.

“Got it.” She nodded and shimmied backward onto the bed, folding her legs beneath her.

He closed the door behind himself to give her privacy. He wouldn’t encroach on her; she had a right to her private conversations. Even if what they had went long-term, he wouldn’t take away her individuality.

But they’d agreed to keep things light, casual, not long-term material—so it was a non-issue. He didn’t need to make future plans. He didn’t have to worry about her.

So why was he?

Chapter 15

“So, how is chateau Ryder?” George asked with a wide grin as he came out of his kitchen holding two beers. He handed Samantha one and plopped himself down on his couch.

Samantha rested the bottle on the arm of the loveseat and smiled.

“It’s fine. He has a great view from his apartment.” She took a drink of her beer. She’d promised Ryder she’d talk to George. Her brother and Anderson also expected her to tell George what was going on. She’d managed to keep Paul from getting too involved, but it took more than a dozen text messages and a phone call that lasted over thirty minutes. She had Paul’s agreement to stay away from Chicago for the time being, but she’d also earned a short interrogation from Ryder. Thankfully, she skirted the questions successfully.

She didn’t like keeping this from him, but she didn’t want him to worry. They were having fun, and she wouldn’t spoil that with all her drama from back home. He’d been so good to her, so kind, and strict—fuck, was the man strict. He’d given her five swats with a spoon after breakfast because she’d argued with him about the stupid sunblock again.

“Yeah, he got lucky with that one.” George leaned back and crossed his foot over his knee. “How’re the interviews going?”

She took another sip of her beer. “Wonderfully horrible. I interviewed in Tinley Park today. The starting salary was only slightly higher than what I was making part time at the university back home, and the health benefits were…well, non-existent. I wish they’d discuss those things on the phone interview so I wouldn’t have wasted my time…or theirs.”

“What about the Harold Washington? You really wanted that one.”

She shrugged. “I’m waiting to hear, but I don’t think I have much of a chance. I feel like I’m going up against people who’ve been working for years. Not fresh out of school like me.” She sighed. “I might have to get a job doing something else while I keep applying.” She couldn’t stay at Ryder’s forever, and without employment, no landlord would give her a lease.

“Don’t rush off into that.” George put out his hand. “I’m sure Ryder isn’t ready to kick you out just yet. Don’t settle, Sam. It’s only been a few days.”

“I don’t want to put him out.” Though, when she thought about packing her bags and leaving his apartment, her stomach soured.

“I’m sure you’re not. Ryder would tell you if he had a problem.”

She held back a bubble of laughter. Ryder definitely had no trouble letting her know when he didn’t like something she’d done. A sharply peaked eyebrow warned her to toe the line.

---