Daddy's Little Liar - Maren Smith Page 0,25

also expect that prescription to be filled and taken when you need it. Understand?”

She stared at the money. It was too much, yet when she looked back at him, although still smiling, he had last night’s Daddy sternness on his face.

“I mean it, don’t even think about it. You still have sixty miles to go, and you don’t know what unexpected obstacles might yet cross your path. Just take it, say thank you, and as I said, you can pay me back later.”

There was no way she could take this, but his generosity was enough to reduce her to tears. “Thank you.”

He went straight into caring Daddy mode, and it was the sweetest thing to have him ask, “Do you have everything?”

Wiping at her eyes, she nodded.

“Go potty one more time before the road. There aren’t a lot of places to stop between here and Santa Fe, and you’ll need to get a hoof on.”

“Right,” she hiccupped. Leaning heavily on the crutches, she limped back into the house to the bathroom and washed her face. She stood there, looking at herself in the mirror and holding the envelope of money.

That’s when the ugly thought crept in. Would taking what he’d given her make her manipulative, greedy, or just a prostitute? They hadn’t had sex, but that was kind of the gist of the scenario she’d suggested, and now, here he was, paying her. For emergencies, he’d said, but it was still money. The scenario wasn’t anywhere near as erotic in the cold light of morning, with her own reflection staring accusingly back at her.

Holding the envelope made her feel bad, despite the reasons he’d given. She didn’t have a lot, but she had enough gas money to get there. She didn’t need to make herself feel worse by taking even more from him.

As she limped carefully back outside again, she put the envelope on his kitchen table and left it there.

“Thank you again,” she said honestly as he walked her to the car and opened the door for her.

“Drive safely.” He held the door for her while she got in, wrangling the crutches into the passenger seat before buckling her seatbelt. “Text me, so I know when you get there, okay?”

That made her smile again.

“Yes, Daddy,” she teased. He really was the most decent man she knew. Her heart gave a little squeeze as he shut the door.

It was hard not to look at him in the rearview mirror as she drove away.

Chapter Six

For a small-town garage, Kace had no shortage of things to do to keep himself occupied throughout the morning. A callout came in around noon for Maisy Gray down the street when her two-year-old got locked in the car. The whole time he was jimmying the door, all he kept thinking about was whether Georgia made it to her interview safely and on time. He hadn’t heard from her, but she’d only left an hour ago. He needed to work on his patience.

Back at the garage, he tried to lose himself in the rebuild on Terry Lomond’s classic 1940s Packard, but when noon came and went, and there was still no call or text from Georgia, he kicked himself for not getting her contact information. She definitely should have made it there by now, and he couldn’t even call her to check if she was okay.

You’re not her Daddy. You knew she was going to leave. You knew you wouldn’t see her again. Let her go.

Far easier said than done.

There was no waiting text for him by one. Every time he’d stopped to switch tools or get another part off his shelves, he checked his phone. It was ridiculous. It was also a good thing she wasn’t anywhere near him right now because he was ready to bust her butt all over again.

Breaking for lunch just before two, he found the envelope of money she’d left on the kitchen table.

The urge to get in his car and drive to Santa Fe—as if he’d even be able to find her once he got there—nearly conquered him. The only reason he didn’t was while he was pacing in the driveway, angrily but carefully thinking through all the ramifications of acting like a psycho stalker, he spotted Iris’ gray Mitsubishi turning down Main Street.

“Oh, for fuck’s…” he groaned, then swore. Not today, please…

She pulled into his driveway and parked despite his silent prayers.

Gritting his teeth, he dialed back his aggravation and put everything Georgia-related on temporary hold. Fuck. He approached