Page 56 of Who's Your Daddy
Ball of material held aloft, I give it a second look. “What’s wrong with them?”
“They’re satin and lace.” Her tone is pure disapproval. “And fancy. Those are the type of pajamas you wear when you know someone else will see them.”
“No. Cal and I aren’t sharing a room. And he will not see them.” Iturn to my suitcase, frowning at the green lace bra and matching thong I’ve already packed. It makes sense to wear pretty underwear beneath the dress. Anyone would do that. It’s not like I picked them out for Cal.
Cal would probably like red better anyway.
His eyes would lock in on the red lace, and his breathing would quicken a little. Just like every time we were close. His normally scattered attention would narrow until it was all directed on me. The blue of his irises would darken to almost a navy hue.
My heart rate kicks up at the idea of having Cal's undivided focus. The way his hand would hover over my skin for the span of a breath before he put those warm palms on me and pulled me to him.
“Lo?” The single syllable jars me out of my daydream.
I assess the tan pajamas for a second, then toss them in. “They’re the only type I have. You know that.”
“Only type.” She deadpans. “So you don’t own a single T-shirt?”
Nose scrunched, I adjust the stack of clothing in my suitcase. “I don’t sleep in T-shirts. They’re scratchy and bulky.”
“Yes. Our little princess and the pea.” Her smile is back.
“Says the woman with five pillows and a sound machine.”
The comment distracts her from the pajamas and leads her into a tangent about T. J.’s sound machine and her concerns about the weekend.
Although Sully already got T.J. a sound machine—identical to the one they’ve used since he was an infant—along with a new set of the same sheets he has at home, I’d rather listen to her rant than talk about Cal, so I don’t stop her.
Five minutes later, I’m packed and standing in front of the dress again.
The perfect dress.
How does he know me so well? Has he always paid attention like this? And if so, how have I never noticed? There’s no other explanation. It’s been months since I mentioned my Jimmy Choos. And yet he remembered.
“Since you’ve become enchanted with the dress again, I’ll let you go. But before I do, let me say this…”
With the dress in hand, I spin back to Sloane.
“Those Murphy men are charming, yes. But it’s all talk.”
I frown at her. A week ago, those words could have come straight from my mouth. But now, getting to know Cal, I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve been wrong about him.
“Don’t drink too much wine or you’ll end up in bed with him. Mark my words.”
I scoff, shaking away the second-guessing. “That will literally never happen.” It can’t. I won’t allow it.
“That’s what we all say.” Sloane takes a fortifying sip from her mug. “Okay, I better pack T.J.’s stuff. Have fun.”
“You too.” I end the call, then focus on slipping the dress into a garment bag. Once it’s zipped up, I dart back to the dresser and yank out a damn T-shirt.
Not that it matters, but whatever.
Cal will be here any minute.
Just as the thought crosses my mind, my phone chimes.
Benjamine: Sending Callahan Murphy up if that’s okay.
Me: Yes, thanks
