Page 7 of Their Perfect Daddy

Shit. I’ve been busted.

“I’m… um, I—” My voice cuts off at the sound of cheering. We turn to look at the game only to see a dog pile of players and no clue as to how it happened.

I snort. “They’re a fun bunch.”

Hopefully, my comment distracts Monty enough to forget what just happened between us. If anything, maybe he’ll move on to his teammates and allow me to slip to another area. Or better yet, I can just head home. I could totally call a car out. I just need to pin the address since I don’t really know exactly where I am.

“Come on, guys. Get it together. You’re all a bunch of sore losers.” Monty waves his hands around as he steps closer to the pile.

Taking the chance, I back away toward the house. It’s a great plan. Truly, it is.

Except I don’t have eyes in the back of my head.

Which means I manage to bump into someone. And that someone is holding a rather large container of liquid because it winds up pouring all over me.

Literallyall over, soaking me from front to back. It’s a disaster.

And when I look down, I see it’s something red. I close my eyes tight in hopes this is all a bad dream. Surely life would not have me reliving the scene fromCarriewhile in front of a guy I’m interested in.

“Danny,” comes a soft voice directly in front of me. I open my eyes to find Monty staring at me with a confused expression. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah.” My voice comes out as a squawk.

He grins. “You sure? This looks… well, it looks pretty bad.”

“I imagine it does,” I agree. “Probably time for me to call for a ride home.”

When I move to slip away, he grabs my bicep. “You’re not going to be able to convince anyone to let you in their car in this state. They won’t want you making a mess. Come with me. We’ll get you a change of clothes.”

My eyes go wide at his offer. He can’t be serious.

Rather than laugh it off, he laces our fingers together and leads me through his home to the stairs. Thankfully, he has tile flooring everywhere we go since I’m trailing a small path of red liquid after me with each step. It’s not horrible, but I imagine it would stain carpet.

“Don’t worry about that,” he says when he notices me watching the trail. “I’ll have someone else clean it up. Or I will. Not for you to worry about.”

He takes me through his bedroom, where unfortunately there is some carpet. Instead of fussing over it, he lifts me into the air and sprints across the room. A single tiny drop makes it to the carpet, but otherwise it’s left unharmed.

As he sets me down on the countertop, I can’t hide the way my jaw drops at the move. He lifted me as if I was nothing. How is that even possible?

Oh, wait.He’s a freaking professional athlete. Of course he can pick me up easily. I bet his personal lifting records is close to double my weight.

“I’ll get you something comfortable. Hold on.” Monty pats my knee as he moves into the connected closet area.

It’s then I take in the space around me. A huge shower is on my left. It’s big enough to fit a few Monty-sized people inside. There’s even a bench to sit on and multiple rain heads. If that wasn’t tempting enough, there’s a giant clawfoot tub beside it as well. It looks vintage yet also brand new. He’s got a TV on one wall, the position making it obvious he watches while in the tub.

Other than that, it’s just as nice as the downstairs with towels, a freestanding towel warmer, and a cart with all kinds of hygiene items on it.

I’m staring at the stack of tampons and face wipes when he returns with a bundle in his hands. He follows where I’m looking and chuckles softly.

“That’s for when the guys bring their wives and girlfriends over. I figure it’s easier to keep them supplied than to have them leaving early or sending the guys out for something. It’s best to have everything your company might need when throwing a party.”

His words come out as if they’re rehearsed. Or maybe even memorized from some text about how to be a good host. I don’t want to believe he’s the type to fake his way through things. But I’m also not going to deny it’s a bit too formal.

Considering how inebriated he is makes it all stranger.

“Thanks,” I finally say when the silence between us becomes too much. “I’ll just change real quick.”

He nods, then motions to the door. “Here. I will be here.”

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