Page 41 of Second Chance Daddy
I nod along, smile plastered on my face like I’m not one breakdown away from peeling my skin off.
“You got that, hun?” she asks, chipper.
“Yeah,” I reply automatically, spinning toward the counter, brain fog thick enough to swim through. “Iced cappuccino and blueberry scone.”
Her face scrunches. “Uh, no… iced latte and two cinnamon rolls?”
Oh, shit.
“Sorry,” I croak, throat tight. “My mistake.”
My eyes are burning, and my brain is foggy with exhaustion and panic, the text replaying in my skull like a siren.
Tell him the kid is his…
He knows. Maybe not everything, but enough to start playing this sick little game.
I manage to get the order right at last. Drag myself through the next three.
I’m still behind the counter at Honey & Hearth, pretending to function somehow when the bell above the door jingles and Tina walks in like on six-inch heels, without a goddamn hair out of place.
“Morning, sunshine,” she chirps, reaching out to grab a cookie from the jar. “You look like shit.”
“Wow. Thanks. You should moonlight as a therapist,” I mutter, sliding over a coffee. I still don’t know how she does it. Eat all that sugar, and still look that thin? There must be something about those Russian-Italian genes.
“Guess who I saw strutting around town this morning?” She purrs, already giddy. “Lauren freaking Simms—ring a bell? You know, Miss ‘I’m better than you’ with that smug little bob haircut and the personality of stale bread?”
I snort. “Yeah, I remember Lauren. She made varsity snob team by, what, eighth grade?”
Tina grins like Christmas came early. “Mmhmm. Well, apparently karma’s been busy. Saw her waddling out of Roscoe’s this morning, very pregnant, and guess who knocked her up?”
I raise a brow, my brain still mush from panic, but curiosity sharpens the edges. “Let me guess… not her husband?”
Tina’s eyes practically sparkle. “Bingo. Husband’s best friend. The town’s losing its damn mind already. You know what they say—small towns, big scandals.”
I half-laugh, rubbing my temples, but the siren’s still screaming in my skull.Tell him the kid is his.
Tina’s grin falters. She tilts her head, studying me. “Okay, your face just did the thing.”
“What thing?”
“The thing where you pretend to be listening, but are miles away in your head. What’s up?”
“It’s nothing,” I say sharply. Tina doesn’t know about the things I’ve done with her brother. Dirty, nasty, toe-curling sexy things that have now put me in a conundrum I have no way out of.
“Cass.” Her voice drops, sharp as a blade, just like her brother’s. It must run in the family. “What’s going on?”
My throat tightens. I can lie to the town, to Dante, to myself—but Tina? She’s been my ride-or-die since braces and bad decisions. She’ll peel it out of me eventually, and I’ve learned it’s best to rip the band-aid off quickly.
I glance toward the back room where Aria naps, my heart squeezing.
“It’s Gino,” I whisper. “I think he found me. It’s starting again.”
She narrows her eyes. “What the hell did that asshole do now?”
“Nothing. He just texted. The usual.”
“What’d he say?”
