Page 1 of Second Chance Daddy

1

CASSIE

Cedar Falls, Illinois, only has one bar—and one type of client.

Rich little brats home for the summer.

My BFF Tina is shoveling jalapeño poppers like it’s her full-time job.

“I still can’t believe you’re moving back home,” she says, licking cheese off her thumb.

“You would, too, if you were married to Gino for the last five years. Besides, I figured it was time to come back and disappoint everyone who knew me in high school. You know, really complete the circle of shame.”

“He ended up being a real dick to you, huh? Thank God you got out of there.”

“Dick is an understatement. Try a sadistic jackass with a serious anger problem. Let’s just hope he lets me stay here. Thank God his mafia family won’t let him leave Chicago. I’m done with badmen and worse decisions. That’s probably what I said before I married him, too.”

Because apparently, my type is “emotionally unavailable with a side of felony charges.” Gold star for me.

And that’s when it happened…

The door creaks open, and in walks Tina’s older brother.

Holy guacamole.

It’s like someone sucked all the oxygen out of the room and replaced it with pure, undiluted sexual tension. The hairs on my arms are standing up, and I’m pretty sure I just forgot how to breathe like a normal human being.

How the hell is one man that goddamn fine?

And when did he get so many tattoos? The tattoos that used to stop at his wrists now crawl up his neck like vines. They disappear under his shirt, and God help me, I want to trace every single line with my tongue.

Get it together, Cassie. You literally just finished telling your best friend you’re done with bad decisions.

His gaze scans the bar as if he’s deciding if it’s worth his time being here. Dark eyes, sharp jawline, and that mouth—Jesus, that mouth should come with a warning label.

Six-two, tatted, and walking like a lion taking command of his kingdom.

The look he gives me could melt steel. Or panties. Definitely panties.

“Tina,” I whisper, “when did your brother turn into sex on legs?”

“Pipe down, bitch. And why is your face red?” She squints at me. “Jesus, Cassie, calm down. You’re blushing like a schoolgirl.”

“It’s hot in here,” I lie, grabbing my drink because my hands need something to do that isn’t ripping his clothes off.

“It’s seventy-three degrees, and we’re sitting under a vent.”

“Well then, I’m having a stroke. Call 911.”

This is what happens when you’ve been celibate for eight months. You see one hot guy and completely lose your mind.

Tina doesn’t know it, but her older brother and I shared a kiss before he left town. I was eighteen; he was twenty-eight. A little older than I should’ve been crushing on, but he was the one rich kid who was always kind to me.

Smug, sure—but grounded. Like, yeah, he had money…but somehow, he still felt humble.

And now?

Now he looks like sin and safety wrapped in one lethal package.