Page 25 of Who's Your Daddy
“Okay?” he asks, brows arched.
I can’t do anything but nod. My chest is suddenly full of a myriad of uncomfortable feelings, making it impossible to speak. It's like my heart kind of tripped on itself.
Cal smiles, blissfully unaware that I’m having a weird moment oflike. Could it be that I almost appreciate Cal at this moment?
He and Murphy take off down the block, but I’m rooted to the spot, staring at their backs.
“Come on, Lola,” Cal says over his shoulder, his hand still clutched around Murphy’s.
That phrase, that name, is enough to shake me from my stupor. Spine straightened, I stride down the sidewalk to catch up with them. As I get closer, I fight the urge to grind my teeth.
The annoying man I don’t like is back. That’s much better.This Cal I handle just fine.
Two apartments later, I’m almost smiling at the view of New York across the Hudson.
“This is it,” Cal announces behind me. “Let’s sign the papers.”
I turn, ready to remind him that this is my lease and my choice.
Before I can, he goes on, “The wine rack is perfect for your collection, and you'll need at least one glass of wine after a day with me. Plus, it has a closet with a built-in shoe rack that’ll fit thirty pairs of your favorites. I know, I know.” He waves a hand. “It’s not quite enough, but this is temporary, after all.” He turns in a circle, pointing at the bedroom door, then the floor-to-ceilingwindows. “Deep tub, great view.” He backs into the kitchen, a hand on his heart. “And the six-burner gas stove will be the perfect tool for trying out new recipes. It ticks all your boxes.”
My stomach sinks. “How?”
How does he know what my boxes are? This man doesn’t pay attention toanything. He’s never cared about what I have to say as much as he cares about lunch and slushies and shooting hoops with the mini ball and the basket on the back of his office door.
Stepping close, he rests a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t look so shocked, Lola, I know what my girl likes.”
I peer up at him, my eyes locking with his, and once again my heart stumbles.
His expression goes soft, his irises soothing like calm waters. “This is it, right?”
I swallow the lump in my throat and will the buzz of electricity that radiates from where his hand is still cupping my shoulder to disappear.
Forcing my attention back to the view of the city, I take a breath.
“Tell me it’s perfect.” He finally removes that hand, but only to bring his fingers to the underside of my chin and tilt my head back.
“If it had a Stella’s…” I clear my throat, ridding myself of the emotion welling inside me. “It would be perfect. I’m going to miss the croissants. Ones I can eat are almost impossible to find.” And my Stella’s must use magic ingredients because theirs are exceptional.
He smiles softly as his hand falls from my chin.
I hate myself for wishing it back. I can’t help but wonder if Cal might not be as shallow as I thought. Honestly, that possibility has sent me into a tailspin.
“A girl needs her baked goods,” he murmurs as he takes a single step back. “I’ll get the paperwork done for you.”
I can’t look away from him as he hurries across the room to the building manager.
“You like him.”
Murphy’s comment startles me and I jerk out of my stupor.
“Oh, I—” I swallow.
“You like him.” He repeats as he, too, watches his dad, who’s now wearing the charming smile he’s known for as he speaks to the middle-aged gentleman across the room. “Maybe he’s not that bad after all.” Murphy’s tone is quiet, like he’s really talking to himself.
But he’s almost mimicking my own thoughts.
Maybe.
