Page 9 of Falling for the Single Daddy

Get it together, Callie.

He walks by me, making me so glad I’ve got his little girl in my arms. I’m not sure what I would do otherwise. That sounds ridiculous. It’s not as if I’m going to reach over and trail my hand down his back and squeeze his very firm, tight backside.

We turn a corner, and he gestures to the room at the end of the hall. “This wasn’t always her room,” he says. “But when she was old enough to have an opinion, she chose it for herself. She likes the fact it has a skylight. She likes to watch the stars before she falls asleep.”

I carry her into the center of the storybook bedroom—a large bed in the middle, a small library off to one side, a play kitchen in the corner, and an en-suite bathroom. She immediately curls up, then whispers, “Thank you, Callie.”

I smile. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“I am. You’re in my dream.”

I turn to find Gray leaning against the doorframe, watching us closely. His smile is enough to drive me wild. He looks proud. As I leave the room, he doesn’t move from his spot. It’s not creepy, but there’s definitely something going on here, or is there? Am I imagining it? Wishing for it? I can smell his manly muskiness as I get closer.

He follows me through the house. But I don’t feel like there’s any threat to me. Maybe it’s because I’ve been around creeps enough times to be able to tell the difference. Or perhaps I’m letting this lightheaded sensation get the better of me.

“Can’t sleep?” I ask.

“I was thinking about my upcoming project,” he murmurs. We’re standing at the top of the double staircase. He seems oddly comfortable around me, shirtless. It doesn’t seem like a big deal. Maybe it’s normal. If we were at the pool, he’d look exactly like he does now, and nobody would care.

“What is it?”

“A plaza. But they want ‘interesting modern art flourishes,’ so that will be the bulk of my work. Were you asleep when my little adventurer came knocking?”

“Half,” I say. “I don’t sleep very deeply.”

“Oh, why not?”

Suddenly, the question feels perverse. It feels like he’s crossing a line. It’s as if we’ve already crossed a dozen lines, but this is, by far, the worst. Because if I were to answer this question honestly, it would mean delving into my past, into all the warped crap. It would mean mentioning the cult. It would mean telling him why I stuck with the stockbroker for so long. It would mean explaining how I helped to free Dad—and that my mother hates me, thinks I’m a traitor, won’t speak to me. She chose the cult. It would imply telling him that when I close my eyes, I see the sickest crap, just vile things.

“I don’t know, Mr. Aldridge,” I say.

He frowns. His perceptive, broody eyes seem to lookintome, not at me. It’s like he’s searching me. I wish I could say I dislike it and claim it’s off-putting and gross. It would make all of this easier. But I can’t.

“Maybe I should try and get some more sleep before Emery wakes up.”

“Sure,” he mutters.

I walk down the stairs. He doesn’t move. I’m sure he’s watching me. In the top corner, something glints. It’s one of the security cameras. He can watch me anytime he likes. He can sit in his office in the city, sipping a whiskey, watching me tens of miles away, watching my every little movement. My skin tingles. My mind flares with too many steamy possibilities.

Clenching my jaw, I push it all away, walking quickly across the back yard. I’m here to do a job, nothing else.

Chapter Five

Gray

“I’m going to miss you, Daddy,” Emery says as I say goodbye at the front gate. I kneel in front of her, holding her hands in mine. She gives me a big nod that makes me so proud but also terrified on some deep level as I realize that, far too soon, these days will be past us. “I know you have to work. I know you have to get money and do big and cool things.”

I smile, kissing her on the forehead. “I’ll be home later for dinner,” I tell her. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Daddy.” She throws her arms around me.

Standing up, I look at Callie. She’s wearing another of her summer dresses, the fabric pulled snugly at her breasts and hips. It’s like it was designed to highlight all her most perfect aspects. She’s got her beautiful hair down. Her expression seems carefully neutral. Did I come off as a creep, walking around shirtless with her? It didn’t even occur to me until after. I felt extremely comfortable with her like that.

“Big plans for today?” I ask.

“She has a playdate,” Callie replies. “And then I think we might explore the world of imagination. Reading, writing, inventing games. We might do some baking. I’ll keep her busy and challenged.”

“I’m sure you will,” I say.

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