Page 4 of Off-Limits Daddy
pressing, just offering soft places to land if I needed them. Cael sat across from me,
Sage on one side, like we’d done a hundred times before when we were kids.
It was comfortable. Familiar.Almostenough to quiet the storm brewing under my
ribs.
And then Sage mentioned he’d be heading to the shop in a little while because he
was meeting up with Reid. This time I was more prepared than I was at the diner. I kept my face carefully blank, even as my stomach gave a traitorous little flip.
Reid.
Still here.
Stilloff-limits.
Or maybe not?
I didn’t know which thought scared me more.
TWO
ARI
It started with a dog.
I was halfway to Mason’s Supermarket, headphones in, grocery list half-forgotten in my back pocket, when I heard the frantic shout behind me.
“Hey! Wait! Please—I need help!”
I spun around to see one of the Grady kids—Jamie, I was pretty sure—charging down the cracked sidewalk, sneakers untied, hair a mess, cheeks blotchy like he’d been crying. His little chest was heaving like he’d sprinted the whole way.
This was Briar Creek. You knew people, even if you didn’treallyknow them. Especially if they were a Grady.
Before I could ask what was going on, Jamie pointed behind him, practically bouncing on his toes. "My cat... he's under there... Max chased him..."
Max, as it turned out, was a wiry mutt with too-big ears and fur a weird in-between brown, like the water when you rinse your paintbrush after using every color on the palette. He stood frozen a few yards away, tail tucked, trembling so hard I could see it from here.
I tugged out my earbuds, tucking them into my pocket as I slowed to a stop. “Hey. Slow down. You remember me, right? I’m Ari—our moms are friends.”
Jamie blinked up at me, sniffling hard. “Yeah… I remember.”
“Good. So what’s going on?” I crouched down to his level, voice soft.
He swiped at his eyes, breath hitching, pointing at Max. “He chased my cat Whiskers under the shed, and I tried to call him, but he’s stuck—or scared—or both—and Mom’s at work and Kyle’s supposed to be watching me, but he’s a jerk and I?—”
“Okay,” I cut in gently. “We’re gonna figure it out.”
I shoved my sleeves up past my elbows—because apparently I was now the kind of guy who did spontaneous rescue missions in a hoodie.
Which was how I found myself on my stomach in the dirt behind the old Grady house, halfway under a leaning toolshed that smelled like mildew, trying to coax a shaking cat out of a crawlspace, while Jamie hovered nearby biting his thumbnail.
“This is going great,” I muttered to myself, shoulder jammed against splintered wood. “I’m absolutely crushing it. Hero of the year material.”
I tried to wriggle, but the hem of my hoodie caught on something sharp. I tugged once—nothing. Twice—still stuck.
The cat yowled, sharp and high-pitched, before ducking deeper into the dark space. The whole shed creaked ominously above me.
