Page 90 of Don't Call Me Daddy
I shake my head and laugh. “What am I going to do with you?”
She leans in, brushing the tip of her nose against mine, and laughs. “What do you mean? You promised me a movie night. No takebacks and don’t even think about falling asleep because I’ve already decided on what we’re watching.” She jumps up and grabs her robe off the floor, giggling as she dodges my pathetic attempt to catch her before she takes off down the hall to no doubt set up the perfect movie night.
I grab my phone off my side table, and I swipe open the grocery delivery app. I add Ivy’s chocolate raspberries to my cart and fall back on the bed, wondering how the fuck I’ve already fallen so hard, this fast.
Holy shit, I’m in trouble …
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Ivy
“Good morning, Jeff. Hey, is that a new tie?” Leo waves to the smiling stranger in the lobby as we wait for the elevator.
“Good morning, Francis. Your hair looks nice today. Hey, thanks for getting me that report last week on such short notice. Your hard work doesn’t go unnoticed.”
I look up at him in confused bewilderment and almost don’t recognize him. Rather than the uptight boss, dressed to the nines in a suit, Leo stands beside me in a casual navy polo shirt and dark gray khaki chino pants that hug his ass in all the right places. Not to mention his signature early morning scowl’s been replaced with a smile.
A smile.
I’ve seen him flash those pearly whites at least three times, making it an all-time record high. And he’s chatty. I think he’s managed to greet everyone he’s seen within a ten-foot radius with some kind of personal message. It’s like he’s done a complete one-eighty, although I don’t even think he’s aware of it.
I think he’s just in a good mood.
I guess finally having your dick sucked after a long hiatus will do that to a man.
Don’t get me wrong; I had my theory that all he needed was to get laid, but I had no idea it’d have this much of a change on him. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen him take a single antacid since last week.
I knew I was a miracle worker. I happen to believe that a good orgasm will solve most of the world’s problems, but nobody listens when I tell them that.
The elevator dings its arrival, and we step inside. Like every morning, I turn to face the window as we climb up the building, giving me the best view of the falls below.
“I never get tired of that view,” Leo sighs. “It’s certainly not a bad way to start your morning.”
He sips his coffee from his favorite mug he brought from home, making a sound of satisfaction. I could be mistaken, but I could’ve sworn I saw him add a spoonful of sugar to his cup as he made mine.
So, orgasms and a touch of sugar are all it takes to keep the curmudgeon at bay. I’ll have to make a note of it, should anyone need it after I’m gone.
My stomach drops at the thought of leaving, making the pancakes I had for breakfast churn in my belly—another surprise from Leo. I swear he told me he wasn’t a morning person, but I guess only under the right circumstances …
“You coming, baby?” he says it like he’s repeating himself, holding out his hand for me.
I take his hand and let him lead me through the office.
Baby. Baby girl. Brat. I’ve never had a pet name before. I could get used to being treated so … how is it that he treats me? He’s bossy and domineering one minute, scolding me and completely annoyed, and the next, he’s taking off my shoes, making me breakfast, and surprising me with coffee.
I can never keep up, but I love it all the same, the way I feel like I’m the center of his universe, like he’s thinking of me at all times, even when he’s supposed to be working. I see it in the way he looks at me, like I’m the only one in the room, like he’d move mountains just to give me a better view of the moon.
No one has ever given me so much attention. Not my parents … and certainly not anyone I’ve ever dated.
Maybe it’s because I was born a twin, but even as a small child, I felt like my parents’ love was divided between us rather than multiplied.
But not Leo. Leo treats me like I’m the only woman to have ever existed, giving me his full attention. Whether he’s annoyed with me or comforting me, everything he does is with intention. And when he looks at me, it’s like he actually sees me for who I am. The only other person in the world who’s ever understood me was my sister, and it’s not exactly like she had a choice; we shared the same womb after all.
It’s like the universe decided to play some kind of cruel joke, giving me everything I never knew I wanted at the worst time imaginable, making me choose between honoring my sister’s memory and whateverthisis.
As if there’s even a choice. A fresh pang of grief smacks me square in the chest as I realize how badly this could end. Because the only thing worse than walking away from someone you care about is having them ripped away against your will.
I don’t think I’d survive losing anyone else, and I can already see the writing on the wall of where this is headed, but for the life of me, I can’t make myself stop. Not before I have to.
