Page 24 of Dating the Daddy

Every time I close my eyes, I see her—the way she laughs, the fiery spark she carries around, and the intoxicating heat of our bodies pressed close together. I should be getting shit done at work, but all I want is to bask in the warmth of her.

“Get it together, man,” I groan, clenching my fists around my desk. “Focus.” I glance at the half-finished project report in front of me, willing it to magically bring my attention back to the numbers. When my phone buzzes, I’m hoping it’s her, but I glance down at the screen to find a fucking work update.

Fucking great.

I’m in the middle of muttering curses to myself when Asa saunters into my office like he owns the place, his usual shit-eating grin replaced by concern.

“You’re a fucking dumbass.” He drops down in the plush chair across from me like he’s here for a casual chat instead of the impending crisis I can feel brewing under the surface. “If you’re in love with Elysa, why the fuck would you out her?”

I never told him I’m in love with Elysa, but I guess I left enough bread crumbs behind for him to figure it out on his own. Wait a minute. The full impact of his words hit me like a bucket of ice water to the face.

Confusion and panic slam through me like a runaway train. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“The entire town is buzzing about the outing of the infamous matchmaker.” He sits forward and places his elbows on his knees.

A flaming arrow pierces my chest as I insist, “I didn’t out her!” But Elysa probably thinks I did since that was my intention before I got to know her. Shit. Motherfucker.

Could things get any worse? I rush out of the office, ignoring whatever the fuck Asa is calling behind me. I need to get to my girl and fix this before she writes me off. There’s no way I’m going to let my perfect baby girl slip through my fingers.

I grip the steering wheel like it’s my last line of defense against the chaos swirling in my head. Driving to the Silver Spoon Falls Newspaper office, I’m white-knuckling it all the way, my heart pounding out a relentless rhythm I can’t ignore. Motherfucker. How did things get so tangled up?

Surely, Elysa knows I love her too goddamn much to ever hurt her that way.“How could she know that, dumbass? You never pulled your head out of your ass and told her.”I mentally berate myself as I turn the corner on two wheels.

I’m torn between the desire to punch something and just wanting to hold Elysa and never let go. I want to shield her from the whirlwind we’ve kicked up and take every bit of blame. But more than anything, I want to tell her I love her with every rough, grumpy, pain-in-the-ass part of me.

There’s a diamond ring weighing heavy in my jacket pocket. It symbolizes a commitment I never imagined making until she charged into my life like a tornado of sass and sweetness. I picked it up this morning before this shitstorm blew in. I was planning on creating some perfect, unforgettable moment to askher to be mine forever. Everything I'm not used to, but fuck it, with her, it just feels right, like it was supposed to be there all along.

But now, the urgency is clamped around my throat like a vise. What if I don’t get the chance? What if she’s already slipping through my fingers like sand, driven away by someone else’s betrayal? I’m terrified of losing her, a foreign and all-consuming panic cutting through my soul. I tell myself, over and over, I won’t let her go. I can’t. Whatever it takes, I’ll make her see how much she means to me. This grumpy, foul-mouthed asshole isn’t giving up without a fight.

The road blurs by as I try to focus, strategize, and prepare for whatever confrontation I’m barreling toward. She’s more than just a matchmaker in this nosy town; she’s become my match, my equal, the force storming through the confines of my routine and filling it with something raw and real.

I pull up to the newspaper office, engine still humming in protest as I shut it off, the silence in the aftermath almost deafening. I take a moment, running a hand through my hair, a futile attempt to calm the turmoil inside me. Reaching into my pocket, I wrap my fingers around the small velvet box, the weight of it grounding me even as everything else spins out of control.

I step out of the car and stride into the building, every step fueled by determination tempered with desperation. It’s a convoluted mess inside my head, this blend of hope and fear. The receptionist looks up as I enter, eyes widening. Christ, I must look as frayed as I feel.

“I need to see Elysa,” I say, my voice leaving little room for negotiation. “Now.”

To her credit, the receptionist just nods, wide-eyed, and points me down the hall. I follow, each footfall a drumbeat echoing my resolute intent.

I burst through the door to Elysa’s office like a goddamn hurricane, breathless and probably looking every bit the part of a man clutching onto the edge of his sanity. Her head snaps up from her desk, surprise flashing across her face, those stunning cornflower blue eyes meeting mine with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Aidan?” she gasps, clearly taken aback by my sudden, unceremonious entrance. “What the heck? Why do you look like you just ran a marathon?”

I barely have time to catch my breath, words tumbling out in a mad rush, propelled by the surge of fear and love coursing through my veins. “It wasn’t me!” I choke out, still standing just inside the doorway, hand involuntarily clutching the doorframe like it’s going to anchor me. “I have no idea who outed you, but I swear, it wasn’t me. I didn’t out you, Elysa.”

Her expression shifts, the initial shock mellowing as she registers my urgency. “Aidan, I?—”

But I can’t stop. The words have been boiling inside me since the moment Asa dropped the bombshell, and now that they’re spilling out, there’s no dam to hold them back. “The last thing I’d do is put you through this shit. I’m going to find who’s behind it, I promise.” Breathless, panting like some lovesick idiot, I scramble to explain, “I love you, Elysa. And I’ll be damned if I let this crap come between us.”

My voice finally dies out, exhaustion and desperation woven through every confession, every raw admission I’ve laid bare.But it’s not anger I see reflected in her gorgeous eyes. She stands, moving around her desk with a determined grace belying the twist of emotions churning between us.

“Aidan, stop.” Her words are soft yet firm, placing a hand on my arm with a gentle touch that silences the storm inside me. “There’s something you need to know.”

My pulse drums in my ears, a mixture of dread, longing, and something else I can’t define. “What?” My voice has edged into gruffness, stripped raw with the effort of navigating these new goddamn emotions.

“I was the one who outed myself,” she admits. The confession drops between us like a weighty anchor refusing to be ignored. “I’m tired of hiding who I am. I’m freaking proud of my matchmaking skills and the matches I’ve made.”

Her words knock the wind out of me more effectively than a sucker punch ever could. “Oh,” I stammer, struggling to comprehend this turn of events.

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