Page 7 of Playing With Forever (Hollow Point #4)

I didn’t remind her she hadn’t spoken to her dad yet because I knew she hadn’t forgotten, she was simply choosing to ignore it. Which meant it would be up to me to call Evan and warn him his daughter invited me to his house.

And she’d be texting me with an address I didn’t need.

“Bye, Shiloh, it was great seeing you. Quinn, it was nice meeting you.”

Lindy received farewells from Quinn and Shiloh and was on her way.

As soon as Lindy pushed through the doors, Quinn busted out laughing.

“Someone’s setting her dad up,” Quinn chuckled.

“Yep,” Shiloh agreed with a smile. “Someone’s also going to get a talking to.”

“A what?” I asked.

“Evan’s super protective of her,” Shiloh explained.

“That hasn’t escaped my notice.”

Suddenly Shiloh frowned.

“You’ve seen them together?”

That prickling on the back of my neck started again. This time it wouldn’t be ignored.

“Yes. Monday night, we happened to be visiting the same restaurant. Lindy invited me to sit with her and Evan.”

“Ah,” Shiloh murmured. “That makes sense. Evan does what he can to keep her away from anything having to do with him being a cop. That’s for safety reasons. But he also doesn’t allow her to attend any TC functions.”

That made no sense.

“Why not?” That was Quinn, though she asked the question that was preying on my mind.

“I don’t know. He just doesn’t. I’ve only met her a few times, and only because I was with Echo when they came around.

I asked Echo why he never brings her to get-togethers, but he brushed me off, and I know when to push my brother for answers and when to give up.

Lindy was a no-go topic, so I let it go. ”

Shiloh’s explanation didn’t actually explain anything.

As much as I wanted to press Shiloh for information, like where Lindy’s mother was and if she’d ever met her, it felt like a violation of Evan’s privacy.

And one thing I understood and valued was privacy.

So, I changed the subject.

“Phil said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes!” Quinn exclaimed. “We want to run something by you.”

“Let’s go to my office.”

Then for the next hour, I listened to two brilliant young women pitch me a very well-thought-out program for the girls at the center. It was simple, it was sweet, and it would help with self-confidence.

“So, we have three stylists who are on board,” Quinn told me.

“If the kids get permission, they’ll also offer cuts, but no bleaching or dyeing.

This is about teaching them how to embrace their beauty, not change it.

We’re thinking once a week for six weeks.

Light makeup techniques, again how to embrace and enhance and feel good but not change.

And that would only be for the older girls.

The younger ones would be about how to apply nail polish, blow-dry, straighten, curl hair, general grooming.

We thought we’d also talk about social media filters, how what they see on the internet isn’t real.

To drive that home, one of the stylists is also a photographer and is great with Photoshop, so she can demonstrate in real time how she can change the appearance of models with a few mouse clicks. ”

“And for the girls who aren’t into makeup and hair?”

Shiloh smiled. She was one of those women.

“General grooming and skin care. Just because someone isn’t girly doesn’t mean they still shouldn’t take care of themselves.

We have twelve girls with no mothers in the house.

Six of them wear makeup and…” Shiloh trailed off, and I knew why.

“They obviously were never taught how to apply it.” That was unusually gentle coming from Shiloh.

“I’ll get a program flyer and permission slip made up.”

Quinn’s sparkling green eyes rounded. “Really?”

“Absolutely. It’s a great idea. The girls are going to love it.”

“Luke mentioned he and the guys wanted to do something special with the boys,” Shiloh announced. “He was gonna talk to the guys at TC and my brothers. He was thinking fishing.”

There were plenty of places around here to take the boys fishing. I was shuffling thoughts of permission slips and where to find the funds for transportation around in my head when my phone vibrated.

I glanced at the screen.

It was an unknown local number. Unfortunately, unknown didn’t mean I could send it to voicemail.

“Excuse me one second.” I picked up my phone, tapped the green icon, and answered, “Hello?”

“Josie.” A deep, rumbly voice I knew well skated over my skin. Yes—over the phone, I could feel his voice coast over my flesh, such was the power of Evan Sanders.

“Evan, I’m in a meeting, but I was going to call you later.”

Upon hearing Evan’s name, both women stood, but it was Quinn who whispered, “We won’t keep you any longer. We’ll talk Monday and hammer out the details.”

“Excuse me, Evan.” I dropped my phone and gave the women my attention. “We’ll talk more Monday, but I love the idea. Luke’s too.”

With smiles and waves, they both scurried out of my office.

Unfortunately, they had the wrong impression, as did Lindy.

“Sorry, I’m back. Like I was saying, I was going to call you?—”

“Lindy told me she invited you over,” he cut in.

“Yes. I’m glad she asked for your permission.”

“My permission?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that, especially when he sounded exasperated.

“Josie, she’s twenty, she doesn’t need my permission to invite people to her home.”

Okay, when he put it that way, permission sounded stupid.

“You’re right. Permission wasn’t the right word. However, in this case, I think her asking for your approval is relevant, don’t you?”

“She doesn’t know,” he strangely told me.

“She doesn’t know what?”

“That I’ve had you.”

Had me…

He had indeed had me, in a variety of ways.

I closed my eyes and fought back the mental images that were warring to take over. And not just images, if I concentrated hard enough, I could still hear him moan my name, I could hear his breath, I could hear his grunts, and I could hear him growling his release.

Thankfully he went on since I not only had no reply but all the oxygen in my lungs was now trapped. “Saying that, she’s up to something.”

“Yes,” I pushed out. “You should also know Quinn and Shiloh were here when she invited me over. Which also means she met Quinn.”

There was a beat of silence, then a grunted, “Fuck.”

That, too, skated over my skin, and I worked harder not to remember how good it felt when he grunted that very word as he held my hips and drove his cock in from behind.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing for you to be sorry about.” He blew out a breath and circled back to why he was calling. “Are you coming over?”

“I would love to see Lindy’s work, and I certainly don’t want to disappoint her. However, I don’t want to upset you or have you upset with your daughter if you’d rather me not?—”

“You don’t want to disappoint Lindy?”

I wasn’t sure what I was hearing in Evan’s tone; it was a cross between a whisper and a rumble. Whatever it was, it sounded beautiful.

“Of course I don’t.” I managed to keep the offense out of my tone, or at least I hoped I did.

A light knock on the doorjamb drew my attention to Phil standing outside my office with Miss Anna, the grandmother of three young boys who attended our program.

“I’m sorry to cut this short,” I told Evan. “But my next appointment has arrived.”

“Right, see you tomorrow,” he clipped, not sounding happy he would be seeing me.

I disconnected, shook off the call with Evan, then did what I did best—shoved my personal life aside and went back to work.

The Hope Center and my boys—they were all I had.

All I needed.

Yet, I couldn’t quite shake the loneliness as quickly as I normally could.