Daddy Undercover (Crescent Cove #9) - Taryn Quinn Page 0,77

eased back to rest against his desk. “Man.”

I laughed. “Yeah. She kinda kicks you right in the teeth, doesn’t she?”

“She’s so small and yet kinda sturdy.”

Personally, I thought she was a peanut, and I was always afraid I was going to crush her.

“Boss, can you come here—oh, sorry.” The stunning brunette lifted her hand to the doorjamb, making sure she was showing off all her assets.

I glanced at my brother, who definitely didn’t notice.

“Wow. She’s a cutie.” She came farther into the room.

“Gillian, meet my niece, Sami. And you know my brother.”

Gillian’s eyes went wide. She looked from me to Mason and the baby, and then back to me. “Whoa.”

“Yeah. Nice to see you again, Gillian.”

“Definitely.” She crossed her arms over her middle. “I hate to interrupt, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“Oh, great. What happened?” Mason handed Sami back to me.

She was officially dozing so I tucked her back into her carrier.

“They’re back.”

“Why the hell aren’t they in Florida? Didn’t they get the memo?”

I glanced over my shoulder. “Trying to get rid of your senior patrons?”

“No, those freaking ducks. They decided under my deck was the perfect place to make a nest.”

“We have had an unseasonably warm fall.”

Mason rounded his desk and pulled out a freaking bullhorn from his bottom drawer.

“Jesus, put that away.”

“It’s the only thing that scares them off.”

I shook my head and pointed my thumb at my dog. “Hello.”

“Oh, right. Genius.” He went over to Sadie and ruffled her ears. “Do you want to earn a steakbone?”

At the word bone, Sadie popped up, her tail wagging madly.

“You know that one, hey?” Mason strode out with Sadie on his heels as I took an extra minute to buckle Sami into her carrier. She always seemed to inch her butt down the seat. She fussed a little then quieted herself with her fist in her mouth.

I grabbed the heavy handle and followed my brother out before he did something stupid. The lower level of his restaurant was almost full light with the domed skylights and large windows showing off the lakefront view. Small mason jar lights were strung up high and low in varying heights for interest. They had solar tea lights inside which were sucking up all that energy, thanks to the early afternoon sunshine.

I knew this because he’d bribed me into helping him fill each freaking jar. Good thing he had decent beer on tap. On Sundays, the restaurant was only open for dinner, which meant the only people in the room were his waitstaff wrapping silverware and the clanging of dishes in the kitchen.

Mason was already out back. The porch had large heaters for the hearty customers who loved the view enough to use the deck. More mason jars decorated the railings and larger, holiday-themed hurricane lanterns were tucked into the corners of the floor.

As soon as I walked through the double doors, three ducks met me on the deck, their heads bobbing as they looked for spare crumbs under the tables and around the jars on the railings.

Sadie was splashing out on the coastline of the lake. She’d chased two ducks into the water and was barking merrily at a third one who still let her give chase. I checked on my daughter, but she was sleeping through all the noise, bless her little oblivious heart.

I set her on the table closest to me and tucked her blanket around her and draped the other over the handle to block any of the wind. Gillian was down with Mason on the patio off the deck.

“Get out of here,” Mason yelled.

The ducks just bobbed and weaved around him, looking for spare pieces of bread that the customers usually threw out for them. Which was why the ducks were sticking around. No sign about not feeding the wildlife could override something as cute as middle-aged ducklings.

I knew, because I’d had the same problem all summer. The family of ducks were a menace, but none of the townsfolk—me included—would use anything hurtful to get them to go on their way.

Mason stalked across the lawn to his small shed. Gillian followed him and peeked from the door.

“What’s going on?”

I turned to find Gina in the doorway. I was struck dumb for a moment. The flowy dress in deep red flirted with her knees and the tall black boots she was wearing. The heel was one of those spiky kinds that I was eternally grateful for, even if I winced at the thought of them from a practical standpoint. But

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