Page 48 of The Heartbreaker

From: Ridge Cole

To: Addison Lark

Subject: Re: First week update!

Whatever you need … I’ve got you.

—Ridge

As the call connected through the speakers of my car, I responded to Rhett’s greeting with, “How’s my girl?”

“Are you really checking up on us?” he asked quietly.

“Checking up? No. If that were the case, I would have called a lot earlier than nine at night.” I turned at the light, speeding up after I passed through the intersection. “But am I inquiring? Yes. I fucking miss her, all right? Jana had her all week, and you have her tonight. I feel like I haven’t seen my baby in months.”

“We had a hell of a good time today. She kicked my ass in Putt-Putt andsomehowconvinced me to go for pedicures because she simply couldn’t survive another minute unless her toes were pink and sparkly?—”

“Hold on.Yougot a pedicure?”

“Do you honestly think she gave me a choice?”

I laughed. “Man, she has you whipped. Keep going.”

“Dinnertime hit, and the princess demanded tacos, so that was what we had, followed by a movie. She made it a solid ten minutes before she fell asleep in my theater room, and that’s where she currently is, passed out on my chest.”

That would explain why he was whispering.

Not that he needed to. My girl could sleep through a goddamn tornado.

“Don’t tell me you made the tacos?” I asked.

“Fuck no. You know me better than that.”

I could envision Daisy asleep on my brother, her curls in his face, her tiny snores getting drowned out by the surround sound in his theater room. A sight I was sure was beyond adorable. What I couldn’t envision was Rhett using his kitchen for anything other than grabbing Daisy a drink, so I wasn’t at all surprised that he’d taken her out to eat.

“Wait until she asks for an egg burrito for breakfast—that’s been her favorite lately. Or French toast—her second choice with warmed-up syrup and cinnamon butter.”

“Jesus,” he groaned. “Tell me you’re fucking kidding.”

“The kid likes good food. What can I say? She has my palate.”

“It’s a good thing our chef will be here in the morning. That’s a project he can tackle, not me.”

I slowed down as I approached the building and pulled into the parking lot, finding a spot in the back, and shifted into park. “What time do you want me to pick her up?”

“I can drop her off. I’ll text you in the morning and figure out a time. It won’t be early. Daisy and I will be sleeping in.”

“If you can get her to sleep past seven, it’ll be a miracle.” I unbuckled my seat belt.

“You don’t know the power of Uncle ’Ett.”

I laughed.

“Where are you?” he asked. “I can tell you’ve been driving somewhere.”

I rested my elbow on the window ledge and stared at the dark building in the distance. “A place I probably shouldn’t be.”

He was silent for a moment. “Are you at the fucking strip club?”