Page 8 of Under Daddy's Spell

“That’s something odd. I don’t think she knows who I am.”

Seth’s jaw dropped. “How is that possible? Is she new in town?”

“From what she said, she’s a NOLA native.”

“Then she must have been living under a rock.”

“Or with her nose in a book,” Jordan suggested.

“Ah, that store next to ours,” he said with a grin. “With all those romance novels at her disposal. Most with alpha heroes that sweep the heroine off her feet. She’s probably built up the perfect man, and daddy, in her head.” He put his hand up, palm out. “On second thought, you’d better let an expert handle this little girl.”

This time, there was no stopping Jordan’s eye roll. “You are so full of it.”

“No. I’m serious.”

“Have you forgotten Rachel, your wife of seven years? Or is there something you aren’t telling me?”

He tilted his head to the side, frowned, and murmured, “Oh, yeah, that’s right...”

“Ass,” Jordan drawled while shaking his head. Seth was lying through his teeth. He loved his civil-rights-attorney wife as much as he loved being her forever daddy when she wasn’t mopping up the courtroom floor with violators. “You’d better not let Rachel hear your bullshit, or you’ll be the one bare-assed over her knee for a change.”

“Yeah. That ain’t happening,” he replied, his expression dripping smugness. But suddenly, some of the smug went out of his smirk. “You won’t mention it, will you? She’s a little touchy lately, what with the backaches and swollen feet.”

It was Jordan’s turn to laugh. “You might be her daddy, but you’re whipped, brother.”

His friend beamed. “Not that I’d ever admit it to her—but you’re damn right I am, and happily so.”

“How far along is she?”

“The baby is due in ten weeks. If it’s a daughter, pray for me, man, because I’m screwed.”

Chapter Three

TESSA DIDN’T HEAR Apeep from the other side of the wall for the rest of the day. She knew they were still hard at work, having seen load after load of equipment hauled in through both the front and rear entrances by guys as big as Jordan. She found her gaze drifting out her front window, hoping for another glimpse of him, but she didn’t see him again.

A few minutes after nine, she hauled her trash out to the back dumpster, the last task before heading home. It was almost dark, but she could tell someone had closed the heavy, hinged lid.

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