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Mack gave off a queer vibe, but maybe Charlie’s gaydar was faulty. Didn’t matter, though. Mack was a fun little crush, nothing more. Charlie’s healed heart had no desire for a fresh crack.

“Sorry, the bathroom lines were outta control.” The man tugged his baseball hat a little lower. “Who knows what sort of shady shit was going down in there.Shady. Shit.Get it?”

Mack nudged the man with a groan. “Charlie, this is my mortifyingly embarrassing dad, Andrew. Dad, meet Charlie.”

Herdad?

He grinned. “From the coffee shop?”

Holy cannoli, she talks about me.

Pink blushed Mack’s cheeks. “Yeah.”

“Nice to meet you, Charlie.” He held out his hand and shook hers with a firm, warm grip. “Sounds like you’ve been keeping my baby girl company lately.”

Mack rolled her eyes. “Seriously, I’m twenty-six.”

He bent down to eye level with his daughter. “Look at how cute you get when you’re annoyed.”

Charlie stifled a giggle at the death glare Mack threw her dad.

“Hey, you girls thirsty? I’ll grab us some bubble tea.” He bumped Mack with his elbow without waiting for a response and walked away, ripping off the third-party comfort blanket.

“Sorry about him.” Mack pushed her sunglasses higher on her nose as the crowd chattering around them morphed into white noise. “Everything about him is a little extra.”

Charlie’s gaze followed Mack’s father as he weaved through the crowd. “That’s your dad? Like your actual dad?”Good looks clearly run in the family.

“Yeah.”

“He looks like George Clooney.In his prime.” Charlie switched her attention back to Mack, admiring the sun’s glow on her skin and briefly wondering how soft it was.

“No chance I’m ever telling him that.” Mack laughed and put her hand on Charlie’s forearm before whipping it back.

But not before a trail of goose bumps flew up Charlie’s arm.

“It’ll go straight to his head.”

“He legit looks like he’s thirty.”

“He turned forty-two this year. But every year, his maturity level rapidly declines.”

“Whoa. Forty-two? So, he was like sixteen when you were born?” Charlie nibbled on this crumb of insight and wanted more.“I can’t imagine having a kid so young. All that responsibility. I’m a half-assed plant mom at best.”

“Same. Couldn’t have been easy juggling parenthood and junior prom. But they did all right.” A side smile grew on Mack’s face. “Kept me fed, watered, and fully annoyed.”

Teenage parents. Charlie had so many questions but asking about family dynamics while body-painted nudists circled them didn’t feel right. Sugar Mugs was her turf, full of necessary distractions if a conversation turned too personal. Questions about the ex-wife? Tables needed wiping. How does it feel to be a child of an alcoholic? Coffee beans needed opening. Why are superficial conversations safer than talking with a friend? Cups needed restocking. Without the cover of the shop, there was no deflection guarantee.

Mack, who’d been so quick with questions last week, scratched the top of her arm and gazed into the crowd, silent. Her lips twitched into a short smile when she caught Charlie’s eyes, then refocused her gaze on the ground. Until a lime-green-painted seventy-something-year-old man—wearing nothing but a frog cock sock and a smile—waved at them. Then turned and bent over to look at handmade jewelry.

Bent. Over.

“Oh my God,” Charlie whispered, and gripped Mack’s arm.

Both their eyes grew wide, and Mack smacked her hand over her mouth.

Charlie looped her arm through Mack’s to remove her from the eye carnage. When they were a safe distance, they busted out laughing.

“I will never be able to unsee that.” Mack swiped a laughter tear from under her eye. “I mean, all the power to him, but…ewwww.”