Page 25 of Shortcake
As he swallowed, he held my gaze, not saying a word outside of the occasional moan of approval. I watched, enthralled, my body pulsing with intense, nearly paralyzing desire.
Jesus Christ, I needed to get laid.
He set the spoon down, and after the longest, most uncomfortable staring contest ever, he nodded his approval. “Okay. That may be the best damn strawberry shortcake I’ve ever had.”
“Maybe?” I challenged.
For the first time all night, that half-smile smirk thing of his split, revealing his full smile. And it nearly punched all the oxygen from my lungs, it was so breathtakingly beautiful. “I mean, I haven’t triedeveryshortcake in New England… So how can I say if it’s the best?”
“Hmmm.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Sounds like the kind of reasoning only a cop would use.”
“And that sounds like the sort of thing someone who doesn’t trust cops might say.” He lifted the coffee mug to his full, sexy lips, taking a sip. As soon as he finished, his smile soured into a grimace. “Jesus. Did you brew straight up motor oil?”
I sipped my own coffee and smiled back at him. “I would’ve thought that’s how you’d like it. Don’t cops usually like their coffee strong and black.”
“You’ve been watching too much Law & Order,” he grumbled. “Look, I like a strong coffee as much as the next guy, but this is beyond that. And drinking it black is for people who think they’ve got something to prove. I like mine light and a little sweet.”
I grabbed the cream from the fridge and slid it over to him.Like father, like daughter, I guess. “My mom used to say the same thing about black coffee. That people think it makes them so tough. But it just makes them bitter.”
“She’s not wrong.” He dropped a dollop of cream into the mug, then ripped open a packet of sugar, dumping it in, too. Pausing before he took a sip, he looked at the bathroom door. “Think she’s okay in there?”
“I’ll go check on her,” I said, crossing out from behind the bar.
“No, no. You’ve done enough. I’ll check on her.” He took a quick sip of his coffee and nodded approvingly. “Much better.”
I watched his ass as he crossed to the bathroom. “Much better, indeed.”
ChapterThree
Conrad
This was the sort of night that, in a movie, I’d be rolling my eyes saying,This shit doesn’t happen in real life.
Addy. My Halloween cop from three years ago.
The only other night in my life that I had acted on a whim, other than the night of Harper’s conception. And now she was standing here in front of me as though I’d conjured her out of thin air.
On the night my daughter nearly blacked out from drinking.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, ignoring the low pulse of a headache blooming there. How in the hell could this have happened? And right under my nose, too. I knew Harper wasn’t happy about the move. It was a big life change for both of us moving out of a big city like New York and coming to this small town.
But a necessary change.
Harper had been getting into more and more trouble with her group of friends in Brooklyn… but never anything like this. Stupid stuff, like spray painting the brick wall near her school. Buying lottery tickets. Getting caught skipping class.
I thought moving out of the city would help her behavior, not make it worse.
But not even one week here and look what had happened. Hell, we’d just closed on our house this morning. There was no turning back now.
Maybethatwas the catalyst for my daughter’s binge. Us buying a house meant we were here for at least the foreseeable future. With no hopes that mean ol’ dad might change his mind and move us back to the city.
Harper was draped in my arms, fast asleep just like when she was a toddler and I used to carry her home from the fourth of July fireworks on the Brooklyn Promenade.
With a quick glance around, my gaze landed on the jack and coke that I’d tested for Rohypnol.
I stared at the cup and even though I now knew that test was negative, that my little girl was safe in my arms, the possibility of a different ending tonight nearly crushed me.
Just becausethisdrink wasn’t drugged didn’t mean that others wouldn’t be in the future. Harper and I had to have a serious talk… and soon. If she was going to be rebellious, she at least needed to do so responsibly and safely.
