Free One Sexy Daddy by Vivian Leiber Page B

project was falling a few days behind deadline because town officials wanted something “softer.”
    Then he looked at his notes from the day’s meeting.
    Softer?
    Not so stark?
    More inviting?
    They were getting a school, not a pillow, he groused privately.
    He picked up the phone before it finished its first ring.
    â€œTyler here.”
    â€œIt’s me. Stacy.”
    â€œHello.”
    â€œI’ve made a big mistake.”
    â€œNo, you haven’t.”
    â€œI feel embarrassed about it.”
    â€œNo need to,” he said, feeling a little more in control. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankles on his desk.
    â€œI’m not usually so bold.”
    â€œBeing bold is going to get you what you want.”
    â€œI can’t do it. Just forget I even said anything about it.”
    â€œIf that’s what you want,” he said, thinking itwas kinder to say little if her mind was truly made up.
    â€œBut I still am happy to help out with Karen.”
    â€œI’ll forget everything you told me.”
    â€œThank you. You’re a real gentleman.”
    â€œWait! Don’t hang up. Will you still—”
    â€œEight dollars an hour.”
    â€œDeal.”
    He stared at the phone a long time after she hung up.
    You had to admire a woman who tried—however clumsily—to get what she wanted, he thought. To get what she needed. But she’d be better off with a different kind of man. Someone from around here. Someone she could marry. Someone she could have kids with. She’d be a good mother. A good wife.
    Then he thought of the men he had met in Deerhorn. Not one of them that he could recall didn’t have a gold band on the left ring finger, except for the librarian who had been so unhelpful about the parenting books. That was a man he immediately dismissed as being worthy of her—that thing on his head was definitely not real.
    Maybe Adam was what she needed, but he didn’t like the idea of being responsible for a virgin. The women he made love to were uniformly experienced, worldly and knew the rules of the game of love. Not the kind of woman a man marries—but that neighbor of his was wife material with a capital W .
    â€œMaybe she should start with the easy things on her list,” he said out loud. “Like the photo album. Yeah, that looked real safe.”
    Adam undressed and put on pajama bottoms. He had just slipped between the sheets when a white-gowned figure came into the bedroom.
    â€œDaddy, I forgot something,” Karen said.
    He turned on the bedside light.
    â€œI’m really sorry,” she said miserably. “I’m really, really sorry.”
    â€œIt’s okay,” he said. “Stop being so sad. What is it?”
    â€œI forgot Mrs. Smith says I have to bring snack tomorrow,” she said and quickly added, “I’ll make the cupcakes. Because it’s my fault I forgot.”
    â€œNo, Karen, I’ll take care of it. I told you that you’re a good kid and I mean it. You are. Every kid occasionally forgets things. That’s why they invented adults. How many cupcakes do you need?”
    â€œThirty Plus one for the teacher.”
    He groaned.
    â€œAnd one for the janitor. Daddy, I’m so sorry.”
    â€œIt’s okay. Thirty cupcakes.”
    â€œThirty-two.”
    â€œWe can buy them at the bakery on the way to school.”
    Her face fell.
    â€œEveryone else does homemade.”
    â€œI’ll set my alarm early and I’ll make them.”
    â€œIt’ll be too hard! Look what you did with the pancakes.”
    â€œCupcakes will be a snap,” he lied. “That’s why they call things that are easy ‘a piece of cake.’ I’ll have them made before you get up. You go to sleep. Take Mugs with you for company.”
    Mugs lurched from his spot at the end of Adam’s bed and followed Stacy down the hall.
    That night Adam dreamt that