Page 29 of Broken Daddy

Pressing my lips together tightly, I don’t disagree.

He’s right, as much as I hate to admit it.

We pull in the drive and the front door opens, Eva’s curious little head popping out. Her uncle’s appears right after. Chris Sharpe, I’ve learned, isn’t as uptight as he appears. Since our first run-in when I interrupted a heated conversation he and Nate were having, I’ve seen him here and there. With Eva’s babysitter being let go for borderline neglect, he’s stepped in to hang out with his niece on last-minute occasions.

My tires getting slashed in a grocery store parking lot counts, apparently.

“Nate. Gen.” Chris gives me a nod and a smirk as we approach.

A blush colors my cheeks. I can’t quite figure it out, butsomethingis up. Nate glares at his brother and Eva scurries along next to me.

“Are you okay? Is the car okay?” She cranes her head around to watch her dad carrying in the groceries. Nate shoves a bag at Chris, who is still grinning. “What’s for dinner?”

“Give her a break, hon. She’s had a rough day.”

My eyes meet Nate’s, and all of me goes still again.

It’s a strange feeling. For so long, I’ve been fighting tooth and nail to pay bills, be a better chef, make my way in the world, make a name for myself, forget my broken heart.

And here I am, feeling soothed by a man who has a temperament that rivals Oscar the Grouch’s.

Ignoring the warm feeling slowly taking over my body, I turn back to Eva and recruit her to help with turkey sandwiches tonight.

“The secret,” I whisper conspiratorially, “is all in how you stack it. I’ll show you.”

* * *

Just after 10 p.m.,I creep to the bedroom door, carefully press it open, and look out into the hall.

All is quiet in the Sharpe household.

Eva went to bed a few hours ago, Chris stayed until dinner and then headed out, and Nate was in his office until very, very recently.

In fact, I can still hear him moving around.

Because my new room is directly across the hall from his.

Trying to ignore the insistentthumpof my nervous heart, my eyes dart down the hallway. Nate’s house might not be a mini mansion, but it’s bigger than anything I’m used to. Eva’s room is all the way at the other end of the house. There’s some kind of playroom, a full bathroom, and a little seating area between here and her bedroom.

The only light on making things visible emanates from downstairs. It’s the light over the stove, which Nate told me the first night to always leave on in case Eva wakes up and wants some water.

It’s just enough for me to see the faint outline of furniture. And Nate’s door.

And the sliver of light coming from beneath it…

That sliver is broken by a shadow and I pull back, pressing my back against the wall and letting out a breathless giggle.

I feel like a teenager playing with fire. Just hitting puberty, with a boyfriend in the next room.

Nathan Sharpe definitely isn’t boyfriend material, though.

No, he’ssinful.

Tempting.

Off-limits.

The list goes on, but it doesn’t douse the yearning that makes me press my thighs together and huff in frustration.

---