Page 99 of Who's Your Daddy
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I mutter.“But at least I can see the skyline from my window.”
Behind me, Cal’s chest puffs out. “Because I picked a good flat.”
I pat the arms still banded around me. “Yeah, babe, you picked a good one.”
He gasps, squeezing me a little too tight. “Did you hear that?Babe.I’ve got a nickname. It means she’s getting attached.” He practically vibrates behind me. “I like it.”
This man is ridiculous. I have a feeling I’ll be rolling my eyes at him even more than in the past.
With a huff of a laugh, Brian shakes his head. “And with that, I’m out.” He sets his empty glass in the sink and pads toward his room.
As soon as his door clicks shut, Cal spins me around and cages mein with my back pressed to the island. “Before I get too excited about all of this, what exactly does it mean that I walked in and found you here?”
His blue eyes dance down like he knows the answer to the question, but he’s going to make me say the words out loud.
“It means,” I say, walking my fingers up the front of his white button-down.“We’re giving this a try.” I stop at the knot of his tie and loosen it. “You’re going to see if you can be in a relationship. You might hate it.”
He scoffs, his expression one of offense. “I will not.”
I purse my lips to hide my grin. “You have to use your words. Talk to me.”
He breaks into a blinding smile, as if my statement isn’t the least bit off-putting. “Oh my God are we doing thething?”
“What thing?” Is he complaining? Already?
“The thing.” With a waggle of his brows, he pushes off the counter. He mutters to himself aboutthe thingas he rifles through the drawers in the kitchen. He opens one after another and eventually sighs in resignation, apparently not finding what he wants. “The thing with the Post-it.”
“Post-it?” I frown. All this excitement over a Post-it? I still haven’t caught up tothe thing, and now he’s moved on to sticky notes?
“Yes, we need a Post-it? You always have them.” He stalks over to me and cups my face.
True. At my desk. But I don’t carry a stack in my purse or anything.
“Cal.” I grasp his wrists. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He drops a kiss to my nose, murmuring about freckles, then pulls back again. “You know the show with the doctors.” He squints, wearing a look of concentration he usually reserves for poring over a case file. “Fuck.” He shakes his head, a whisp of his dark hair falling over his brow. “You know the one. Sloaney made us watch ten seasons when she was pregnant with T. J. and on bed rest.”
His face is fixed in a look of expectation, like he’s sure I’ll understand, but I still don’t have any idea what the fuck he’s talking about.
“The show with the docs,” he says, desperation lacing every word. “That dreamy guy.”
I bark out a laugh. “McDreamy? Like Grey’s Anatomy?” I’ve seen episodes here and there, but I have no idea what the television drama has to do with Post-its.
“Yes!” He beams. “The Post-it.”
I still don’t get it, but he’s on a roll, so I don’t bother asking him to explain.
He grasps my hand and kisses my knuckles in the most endearing way. “We need a Post-it for the rules and promises.”
I hate disappointing him when he’s this excited but I can’t help it. “Cal, I don’t have Post-its with me.”
“But.” He smirks. “You’ve probably got loads at your desk downstairs. Come on.” He tugs me down the stairs and into the dark office.
He doesn’t let go until we’re in the conference room and he’s snatching up a stack of Post-its.
“What color?” He fans out the individual stacks. “Choose wisely, because this will be framed on my desk until I retire.”
My nerve endings light up in a way I’ve never experienced. This man’s excitement is contagious. I suppose I just haven’t allowed myself to give in to it until now. “How about the light blue?”
