Page 4 of Mechanic Daddy’s Girl (Daddy’s Girl #10)

BOONE

I t’s been a couple of hours since I kissed her, and I still can’t believe I did it. But my blood was boiling just picturing that prick barking at Callie. What good are all the rules and regulations when the poor thing still can’t take two days off in peace?

I also know I’m justifying this to myself.

Coming up with excuses about being lost in the heat and the moment.

But that isn’t the truth. I know exactly where it came from, my unquenchable thirst for her.

But now that I’ve gone and done it, I’m worried I fucked things up.

Scared Callie off by being too forward and wearing my wants on my sleeve.

Sure, I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing her from the second I towed her car. Hell, kissing is the tip of my mental iceberg. I’d much rather have her use my face as a seat.

Get yourself together.

Much easier thought than put in practice. I’m coming undone at the seams. She’s turned me into a mess that’s going to take a whole lot more than some mental gymnastics to fix.

And though I complain, I’m loving every fucking second of it.

As luck would have it, before I can get too lost in thought and work, I hear the loud creak from the lobby’s door.

Half-expecting it to be one of the locals coming around to chat shit, I grab a rag out of my toolbox and start wiping my hands.

But my heart nearly stops in my chest when I hear her voice.

“Boone?” Soft and timid, just the way I like her. “You busy?”

“Not at all.” I spin around, dragging the cloth between my fingers. “Something wrong?”

But it seems one of my dreams has come true when I get a look at her.

Freshly showered, in an outfit that leaves way too little to the imagination.

Her almost see-through shawl hangs over a loose-fitting poncho-like shirt that barely covers her tits.

Below, her jean shorts have been replaced by bootie shorts, and that couldn’t be a better term, with her ass cheeks practically spilling out the bottom of them.

“No, not at all. Everything’s great.” She’s smiling, which has to be a good sign. Maybe I didn’t screw things up as badly as I thought. “It’s just the day’s coming to an end and well…”

I don’t interrupt, waiting to see where she steers the conversation. Well, that’s a part of it, but mostly I’m struggling to stop drool from spilling out of my mouth at the picture of perfection standing in front of me.

“Wanted to see if you were busy. Maybe hang out or something,” she concludes.

“Yes.” I’ve never snapped to an answer so quickly in my life. Even if it means just spending a few more minutes gawking at her. “Not much to do in town. Pub might be open. We can grab dinner or something.”

She smiles, but lazily shakes her head from side to side. “I was thinking, something a little more personal. Maybe a movie?”

Shit, when was the last time I watched a movie? But that question pales in comparison to the last time I did so as a date.

But the thoughts don’t last with the reality of this situation crashing down on me. Callie wants to spend time with me after I kissed her. I haven’t chased her away. In fact, our moment of bliss in that tiny apartment sparked the beginning of something far more devious.

“Sounds great.” Luckily, my heart smashing against my ribcage doesn’t come through on my words. “I’ll head over to the store and grab something for dinner and some snacks. Let me do a grocery run for you while I’m at it.”

“You’re too sweet, y’know that?” Callie giggles.

Sweet isn’t the word I’d use. This is all in service to the primal beast lurking inside.

“I’m gonna run over to my spot and get ready.” Wash off the day’s filth and hopefully clean my mind while I’m at it. “There’s a pen and paper on my counter inside. Why don’t you write up a list of things while I’m gone?”

She nods and heads back in, while I finally realize I’ve been rubbing my hands so damn hard, the friction’s starting to burn.

Callie’s back upstairs by the time I get back from my place.

I find her list, and while I should be reading what she wants, all I can focus on are the hearts she’s doodled across the page.

Like she’s trying to send a not-so-subtle message that not only is she not upset about what happened, but she wants more of it too.

Twenty minutes later, I’m back with three bags full of movie snacks and two with her groceries. And it’s only when I get to her door, heart pounding like a schoolboy at the thought of taking my crush on our first date, that I realize how fucked up this is.

How I shouldn’t be pursuing this further. Thoughts of Callie’s age and innocence creep across my mind, reprimanding me for being a dirty old bastard who has lost all control. But they’re gone as soon as they came when she opens the door.

One look at her face and everything in the world feels right again. And if that means wrestling with myself, on occasion, then I say bring it on. Because there’s no way in hell I’m going to waste this opportunity with her.

“I got pizza for dinner. You okay with that?” Is that really the first thing you’re going to say?

“Who wouldn’t be?” She snickers, grabbing the box out of my hands and leading me inside.

I help her unpack the bags, stocking her fridge with a combination of beer, soda, and fresh ingredients. The cupboard gets cereal, rice, and pasta, with an assortment of soft candy, chips, and cookies.

Once it’s done, with a beer in my hand and cola in hers, we settle on the sofa and tear into the pizza.

“So, what are we watching?” I ask after she hits play on the movie and the opening credits start to roll.

“I was thinking a horror movie. I hope you’re okay with that?”

My mind instantly starts to race. A horror movie? To get scared or pretend she’s scared so she can huddle up against me?

“Perfectly.” I sip from my beer bottle, realizing how dry my throat has become.

“But I did want to ask you something.” Her voice is wispy and nervous. “It’s about the kiss.”

Fuck. I knew things were going too well.

“What about it?”

“Well, it’s just….” She’s staring deep in my eyes, but from the corners, I can see how pink her cheeks are turning. “Why did you disappear afterward?”

Kiss and run. Why does that sound like the title of some terrible cop-themed porno?

“I wasn’t sure how you’d react,” I answer honestly. “Didn’t want to fuck things up worse, if you weren’t happy.”

“Think I’d lean into it so hard if I wasn’t happy?” she coos, kicking one leg over my lap.

“You should be careful with this line of questioning, princess,” I say, when I realize this isn’t a nightmare coming to life. She’s prying because she wants more.

“Why? Afraid you won’t be able to handle it?” she teases, as her porcelain teeth sink into her plump lip.

“No,” I say, stiffening my muscles to make it harder for them to do something regrettable. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to.”