Page 110 of Under Daddy's Spell

Chapter Thirty-One

THEIR SCHEDULE FORthe next two weeks was super busy.

With Angie out the first week, the schedule was crazy, especially when Tessa took a day trip with Jordan to see possible second and third bookstore locations, but her part-timers got all the extra hours they wanted. The trend continued the following week when Angie returned because she jumped at the chance of being her store manager.

A little clarification on the schedule was needed beforehand though.

Tessa knew what she was going to ask and raised her hand to stop her. “It’s my store, and it was my choice to work from open to close seven days a week. Because I did doesn’t mean you have to.”

She sagged against the sink and whistled low. “Thank goodness. I love baking and the barista gig is automatic now, but after four years of steam burns and getting up before the sun, I could use a break. Not that I wouldn’t be here at the busiest part of our day.”

“I trust you to treat the shop like your own, Ang, because you always have.”

Changes went into effect immediately because she loved her job, but she loved her daddy more and eighty-hour weeks wouldn’t work for them, especially with his schedule.

During this madness, Tessa had to squeeze in a doctor’s appointment so they could, as Jordan put it, lose the latex. He did his part by getting a physical and lab work, to make “100 percent certain” he was safe. When he got the all clear, she gave a command performance of their shower scene with her on her knees. But instead of him finishing on her chest, he came down her throat with his hands buried in her wet hair.

The only other blip on the radar was her dad’s visit.

“Can you see them?” Tessa asked while straining on tiptoe to see over the heads and shoulders of the people blocking her view of the tunnel leading from the terminals to the baggage claim area.

“It’s hard for me to say, baby,” Jordan replied. “Since I’ve never met them.”

“I should have shown you a picture,” she muttered, grabbing hold of his sturdy arm for balance. “Think Marilyn Monroe, extra curvy, extra loud and bubbly, and her dad. She’ll be popping her gum and talking with her hands, and he’ll have a book, and there’s a good chance he’ll have his nose in it.”

He dropped his hand from her nape to her hip, and his fingers dug in. If they hadn’t been in a crowded airport, she got the distinct impression he would have swatted her bottom before scolding her. “Be nice, or this is going to be a very long weekend.”

“If you think I’m kidding or being catty, I’m not. Wait and see.”

“Tessa!”

They both turned at the sound of her name, but she couldn’t see for all the passengers waiting for the conveyor belts to start so they could grab their bags. Jordan had no problem seeing the new wave of arrivals. She knew when he spotted them because he whispered, “I’ll be damned.” More loudly, so she could hear, he said, “Apologies, baby. Except for a beauty mark, she’s a dead ringer.”

“Where?”

“Two o’clock.”

The crowd parted enough when she looked that way to see a flash of teal. That it was wrapped around her stepmother—would she ever get used to the weirdness of that—became clear when she started waving and jiggling.

“Tessa, over here!” Shelly called again as she grabbed her dad’s arm and towed him in their direction.

She let her head drop onto Jordan’s arm as she sighed, tired already. “There’s a flight leaving for the Bahamas in fifteen minutes. If we hurry, we can be on it.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, giving them an encouraging squeeze. “A long weekend on a sun-drenched beach with you in a bikini is mighty tempting, but we’d better stay here.”

“Party pooper,” she muttered.

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