yesterday. You need a ride," he murmurs while putting all of his stuff in his pockets.
"Are you going back to New York today?" I ask timidly.
"No. I'm going to a wedding, and then I'm going to spend the rest of the day with you."
I grin like a girl and quickly cover it. "Oh. I just didn't think you'd want to hang around after last night."
"I don't see why not. I came to see you, and I've spent every second with you since I got here. I sat up worrying all night, but I got to hold you."
Aw.
I'd kiss him right now if my breath wasn't rancid. Oh, the inn keeps complimentary toiletries in the bottom cabinets.
My blushing hue stains my cheeks, and I look out from under my lashes to see his smile only growing. I have to kiss him, but not yet.
I casually stroll into the bathroom, and as soon as the door closes behind me, I start savagely ripping it apart to find a toothbrush. I smile as I open the pack, and then grab the toothpaste he has in his bag.
My vigorous brushing rids my mouth of the disgusting thing that has curled up and died in it, and then I start scrambling to finger-comb my hair.
Yep. I've got to get a slut bag.
I walk back out just as he's pulling on a shirt. Mmm . Why does he have to be so insanely hot?
The soft threads slowly cover up his rippling abs, and I almost feel the need to wipe a dollop of drool from my mouth.
"Thank you for last night."
"You're welcome," he murmurs so softly it's almost a whisper, but I hear it with such perfect clarity - as though he was right beside my ear when he said it.
I feel oddly in tune with everything. I can see, hear, and smell so acutely - it's rather distracting.
A bird's flapping wings almost seems to rattle against my eardrum as it flutters around the tree outside. I have to shake my head just to rid myself of the nuisance.
"What's wrong?" he asks with worry.
"Nothing. Just a little off today."
"Are you ready?"
I nod and he takes my hand my hand in his to lead me out. The touch of his smooth skin feels so much different today. It feels so … intimate.
I quickly snap out of my momentary hypnosis, and then the sick pang of dread stings me.
Oh, please don't be here yet, Daddy .
I creep behind Devin like a child afraid of the dark as we walk down the stairs. Each creak ringing out beneath our feet makes me cringe, and my stomach only knots all the more.
He's doing his best not to laugh at me. I'm sure he's not used to being around someone still afraid of their dad. I'm actually not afraid of him. I'm terrified of the mortifying scene he'll cause if he witnesses what will appear to be a walk of shame.
When we finally near the foyer, I peek around the corner like the world's worst spy and sigh out in relief when I see my dad isn't here yet.
"Feel better?" Devin teases, his laughter finally coming out in a breathy heap.
I smile bashfully while blushing, but then the front door swings open.
My stomach plunges to the ground, dragging the sickness with it, and then it jumps back up into my throat.
Shit !
Dad very slowly walks in, stops, and stares at me holding this very tall, sexy, and mysterious man's hand.
"Hey, Adisia. What are you doing here?" he asks very warily, suspicion in his gaze, and his eyes not moving from Devin.
Fuck my life .
Oh, I really don't want to try and explain my complicated whirlwind romance to my father. I can't say, hey Dad , this is the guy I tried to have a one-night stand with .
Oh this sucks. Be quick, vague, and get the heck out of here.
"I got a little sick last night during the rehearsal dinner."
"But you never get sick," he quickly adds, sounding even more suspicious.
Drat.
"I did last night. Clara got a little worried. I probably need to call her."
"I already did," Devin says with his wonderful, considerate tone, and now my dad is staring him down twice as hard.
"Are you going to introduce yourself, or are you just going to keep holding my daughter's hand in
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia