Page 84 of Sweet Thing

A chill gushed through my veins as I tried to parse the situation.

He knows. Somehow, he knows. And the only reason he’s not punching me is because I’m using my child as a shield.

“You’ll have to be more specific.” I took a seat at the kitchen table, another ploy to avoid being thumped.

“It’s all over the fucking Internet!”

“Could you watch your mouth?”

Theo grimaced before picking up where he left off. “You hit MacFarlane! And while the punch didn’t make it onto ye olde videotape, there is footage of you leaving the club right after.”

Relief flooded me.

“MacFarlane tattled, I suppose.” I sounded so cool, an absolute sociopath.

“Probably. Or one of his entourage. Or someone at the club.” Theo took a sip of his coffee. “Addy still asleep?”

“As far as I know.”Lie Number One.

“Hatch told me MacFarlane was out with my daughter last night.”

I picked my words carefully. “She wasn’t having a good time.”

“Did he hurt her?”

“Not physically. But he made her feel small and that’s not right.” The words sounded angry on my lips, and I soothed Mabel’s back on the road to soothing myself.

“So …” A frowning Theo was trying to connect the dots. “How didyouend up there?”

“I called him, Dad.” Adeline stood at the entrance to the kitchen in sweats and her dad’s jersey, her lips still puffy from when she took my cock deep, all of ten minutes ago. She had never looked more beautiful, and I had never been more of a jerk.

She headed for the coffee maker. “I was feeling sorry for myself, and I needed a ride. I could have taken a cab, I suppose, but Lars had already offered to pick me up if I needed it.”

Theo took a good look at his daughter. “You could’ve called me or your brother.”

“Hmm, okay. Remember that time I got stuck in Ravinia when I missed the last train?”

Theo folded his arms. “Rosie’s fault, if I recall. She was throwing up Mai Tais after the Doja Cat show.”

“And everyone blamedmefor not keeping an eye on her. Even though she’s older.”

“But you’re the sensible one, Twinkle, always have been. And I don’t think we blamed you.” He flicked a quick glance at me, seeking support.

I remained silent, not wanting to come between father and daughter any more than I already had.

Knowing he hadn’t a leg to stand on, he sighed his surrender. “Thanks for picking her up, Lars. I appreciate it. And the rest. Though my sources say you waltzed into the party like you were walking onto a yacht. Except into the club and with a baby.” He sipped his coffee and said to his daughter, “That’s a Carly Simon reference.”

She gave her father an indulgent look. “I know. Taylor sang with her in concert.”

I spoke up in my defense. “Mabel slept all the way through it.”

Theo went quiet, which was never a good sign. He knew something wasn’t adding up, but his trusting brain refused to go there.

“I brought over Halloween costumes. I know you said you wanted to make your own”—he added finger quotes to “make”—“but when are you going to have time for that? Tilly’s grown out of these, so one of them should work for May-belle.” He shook his head. “I think Button might work better for her nickname, short for Belly Button? Still percolating on that. Or you can buy your costume at the Spirit store like everyone else, if there’s anything left which there won’t be because the party is tonight.”

I didn’t have it in me to be churlish. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Adeline unpacked the bag and produced bumble bee, pumpkin, and cow costumes. We cooed over each one, though I was pretty sure only the cow one would fit her without needing major alterations. It also gave Theo another nickname idea: Moo-Belle.

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