Page 16 of Falling for the Single Daddy

My mind spins as I shake his hand. Emery’s uncleandGray’s best friend… which means that Sloane is Wes’s sister, meaning Gray had sex with his best friend’s sister. Was Wes okay with this?

He must be able to read the look on my face. He smiles tightly. “Don’t worry. I know it can be a shock hearing a thing like that.”

“No,” I say, but it comes out weak and unconvincing.

His grin grows tighter. “Honestly, it’s fine. You can ask anything you want.”

“Wes.” Gray laughs awkwardly. “I think you’re reading too much into this, bud.”

“Hmm.”

Wes looks at me closely. There’s a hint of judgment on his face. I’m sure of it. Maybe he saw the way I was watching Gray as we approached. Or he thought I was checking him out. Heck, maybe I was. And now he’s thinking I’ll try to dig for his best friend’s gold. I don’t see why else he’d be so standoffish right away.

The four of us walk into The Scoop. “Why don’t you all sit down while I order?” I say, trying to be friendly.

Wes smiles in an ironic and belittling way. “Sure, sounds good.”

I take everybody’s orders, then wait in line. I must be more careful with where and how I look at things. I need to be more conscious that my feelings, desires, and hunger can suddenly appear on my face. The last thing I need is Wes thinking I’msome gold digger or disliking me for another reason and getting me fired. Dad needs rent money.Ineed money. And I really like Emery.

Once I’ve ordered, I join them at the table, laying out the ice cream. Gray smiles tightly at me. Wes nods, but I can see he wishes I wasn’t here.

“Callie, tell Uncle Wes about my octopus story.” When I hesitate, she says,“Please.”

“It was a very creative story,” I say, looking at Emery.

“TellWes,” she says.

“Sweetness,” Gray says. “Don’t be rude.”

“Sorry, Callie.”

“It’s fine.” I turn to Wes, to his ironic and judgmental smirk. “She’s very good at thinking of unique angles. In this story, the octopus loses his tentacles and has to find clever ways to get them back. We’ve reached the point where he’s having a riddle battle with a puffer fish.”

“That sounds amazing, Emery,” Wes says, smiling down at her.

She beams.

I wonder what we’d be talking about if Emery wasn’t here. Would Wes come out and say what’s on his mind? Or maybe it’s the sheer fact that I’m not his sister. He sees me bonding with his niece and wishes that reality was different—that Sloane was here instead.

“How are you finding it, Callie, working for this old grump?” Wes winks good-naturedly at Gray.

“So far, so good,” I say. “The house is lovely. This town is beautiful. And Emery is just cute as a button.”

“Buttons aren’t cute,” Emery says, giggling.

“But you are,” I say, making a face at her.

“Yeah, it’s quite the place,” Wes says, still watching me. Heck. Did I mess up by mentioning the house? “And getting room and board as part of the deal must be convenient.”

This catches me off-guard. I’m not sure what to say, which results in me making this weird laughing noise, which is neither yes nor no. It comes out sounding defensive, and then I get angry. I spent too long having to monitor every single noise I made, every gesture, every expression. This inward-looking crap was supposed to be long behind me… it happened with the cult, and it happened with Jorge Lopez. Whenever I was around his wife, I’d feel like she was watching me. She thought we were having an affair—gross—and it was my job to put on a performance that would make that seem absurd.

Wes tilts his head at me after a long pause. It’s agotchasort of gesture. If the circumstances were different, I might snap at him but soon, we’re all eating ice cream. I lose myself in the act of making silly faces at Emery. When I put ice cream on my nose and lick it off, she giggles like crazy.

But then I notice Wes looking at Gray… because Gray is watching me. His eyes stare as I slip my tongue between my teeth and lick the ice cream off my nose. It’s like he’s imagining what else I might do with my tongue.

“So, Wes, what do you do for work?” I ask.

“I’m an art dealer. But I mainly function as an agent these days. Not modern art; otherwise,thisbig lump would never leave me alone. It's more classical, with some portraits. It keeps me busy. And I’ve always loved art. What about you?”

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