Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“I feel like anything I say is gonna be twisted into something.”
“Wish I could get twisted into something…”
“Stop it,” I said with a glare.
“Or what? You’ll get back to working?”
The timer went off on the cookies I’d put in the convection oven, and I pulled them out to cool, when Eric, his gaze shifting back to his comic book, said, “So that Daddy? Would you have happened to let him wear your pink unicorn shirt and a pair of shorts he needed to use a belt with because they were too small to button?”
My thoughts scrambled. “How could you possibly know that?”
He motioned toward the back of the dining area, indicating someone standing with his face pressed against the glass window, hands cupped to peek inside.
Daddy? What was he doing here?
I waved, unsure if he could see me, but he waved back. This felt particularly awkward, especially as he drew the attention of the patrons sitting around the dining area.
“I mean…” Eric began, “you’d have to be really hot to pull off that outfit and be a creepy stalker without that totally killing it for me.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Daddy picked up something off the sidewalk—oh, the Tupperware I’d lent him—and walked alongside the window, searching very hard for something until he came to the door. Gripping the handle, he pushed.
And pushed again.
And again.
“Just pull…pull it,” Eric whispered, as though hoping his direction would somehow travel out to Daddy and help him out.
It only took a few—and by few, I mean maybe seven—attempts before he worked it out on his own. By this time, everyone’s eyes were on him, something he didn’t seem particularly concerned about, like he didn’t mind wearing the ridiculous clothes I’d given him to tide him over until he returned to his place.
And the way Daddy approached the counter, it was clear he’d come to see me. He set my Tupperware down and took a breath, as if he’d been walking for some time. “There. Returning it.”
I blinked a few times, uncertain how to respond.
“Thank you, Daddy,” Eric nearly sang, and Daddy seemed to only then notice him before returning his attention to me.
“You really didn’t have to rush to get it back to me. I was thinking you might not return it at all, the way you rushed off.” I still sounded disappointed by it.
“I wanted to see you again,” he said matter-of-factly, still with that intense stare, like the one he’d given me at my place, when I felt like he wanted to ravage me.
My cheeks warmed to the point where this was getting embarrassing. “Eric, do you mind?”
He glanced between us. “I do, actually. I’m not hurting anyone.”
At my glare, he turned his attention to his comic book, which definitely wasn’t what I meant, but with Eric, that was about as good as it was gonna get.
“Well, I did mention I worked here,” I said, trying to make sense of him showing up.
“Yes. I asked around, and some friendly people told me where this place was located.”
“But apparently you didn’t have time to change out of the clothes from this morning.”
I figured we needed a joke to cut through the tension, but he didn’t laugh.
He glanced himself over before saying, “Yes, I like it,” as though I’d been sincere.
I gulped. I liked it too.
“Hey, you!” someone called, and I turned to find my four-pumps-latte guy approaching. “You put too much caramel in here.”
I put the exact number of pumps he requested, but whatever. Now my cheeks were even hotter from the embarrassment of Daddy having to see me deal with an annoying customer.
“I’m sorry, sir. I can make you another in a minute.”
The guy eyed Daddy, then told him, “Technically, I was here first, so it’s only fair he fix my order before working on yours.”
Daddy stood a little taller, puffing his chest out. “You’re making him uncomfortable,” he said, his voice deepening as he balled his hand into a fist.
Whoa, Hot Daddy was getting worked up! Surely not over this guy being a dick to me.
“What?” the annoyed customer asked before directing his attention to me. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“No,” I lied.
Daddy studied me, his face turning as red as mine probably was, but for a different reason. He took a step toward the guy. “Yes, you are. You should go.”
I wasn’t surprised when the guy conceded because if Daddy had looked at me like that, I definitely wouldn’t have wanted to stick around.
As he walked off, Daddy’s expression relaxed. “Twink,” he said, earning a snicker from Eric, “I was hoping, since you’re more familiar with this place, you might be willing to help me get a better understanding of it.”
“Show you around? Like a tour around town?”
He nodded. “Yes, a tour—that’s the word.” He said that like he’d only just learned what the word meant, which didn’t make much sense. But a lot of things about him didn’t make sense.