Daddy Crush - Adriana Anders Page 0,43
trailing behind her, a hint of unintentional cleavage. My dick gets heavy just thinking about it. I remember the freckles on her collar bone—the ones I didn’t get a chance to count the other night, because, dammit, I can’t give her any of the shit she deserves. I can’t give her a fucking thing.
“Dad.”
I look up. “What?”
“Step away from the lemons.”
I look down at the huge pile I’ve butchered. Jesus. Time to pull my head out of my ass or God only knows what other havoc I’ll wreak. I’m shocked I didn’t slice my hand open, especially given that I’m using one of my best knives. Definitely not a good idea in my current mood.
Harper slides behind the bar and walks up to me, looking worried. “Seriously. What’s wrong?”
“I…” I huff out a breath. No way am I explaining any of what’s happened to my eighteen-year-old daughter. She may be wise beyond her years, but she doesn’t need to hear about the agreement I had with my neighbor. Or the fact that it’s over. “I’m good.”
“You are so full of shit.” Her sigh’s teenager-eloquent. “I know what this is about.”
Shit, I hope not.
“If it’s any consolation, Dad, she looks like crap, too.”
“What?”
“Your…” She wags her fingers in my face. “Neighbor girlfriend.”
“She’s not my—”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Dad. Are you seriously telling me there’s nothing between you?”
“It’s over.”
“She broke up with you?” Her eyes narrow into angry little slits. “I will tear her a new—”
“Stop.”
For once she listens. Of course, I have no idea what to say. Apparently my silence gives me away.
“You ditched her? Why?”
“She’s too young.”
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“You like her.”
“No, it was just…” Don’t say it, dickhead. “I don’t know—casual. She’s young. Deserves a chance at a real future and I’m not the—”
“Hold on. What? She said you’re too old for her? I’ll show that—”
“Harper. Listen. She didn’t say that. I’m saying that.”
She backs up a step, face drawn into a you’ve gotta be kidding me expression. “You ended it to help her?”
“Yeah.” My fist tightens around the lime I don’t remember picking up. I want to hurl it across the room.
“But you like her.” Obviously exasperated, she yells. “Why do I keep having to remind you of that?”
“It’s not—”
“You fucking do!” Wow. Harper’s pissed. I have no idea why.
“Whoa. Let’s not—”
“No, let’s.” Her finger’s in my face. “You broke up with the first person I’ve ever seen you actually into—and that includes Mom—because you think she deserves better?”
“She does,” I say, reasonably.
“Decrees His Royal Highness Karl M. McCoy the third.”
“The third? I’m not the thir—”
“Whatever. You’re breaking it off because you know what she needs. That it?” Her head’s shaking, mouth tight. “You know what, Dad? That’s fucking stupid.”
I open my mouth to reply, but she plunges on.
“Truth?” She backs up, head shaking. “I don’t like that she’s closer to my age than yours. It’s embarrassing, okay? We have the same friends. But even I can tell that you’re into her.” She stomps off and then comes right back. “You’d better not be doing this for me, Dad, got it?”
I shake my head, stunned at how enraged she is.
“I know about all the stuff you gave up.”
It’s my turn to be mad. “What the hell are you talking about, Harper?”
“Oh, come on. I know you put me ahead of everything.” She starts ticking things off on her fingers. “I know you said you were a fuck-up as a kid, but you can stop making up for it now, okay? No girlfriends, working a million jobs, extra construction hours, quitting school? You did all that crap for me.”
“I’d do it again!” I’m close to yelling, myself. “Whatever it takes to make sure you have what you need. Keep you safe.”
“Like sell your bike to pay for Mom’s rehab?”
“She’s your mother, Harper.” I sigh, shaking my head at the memories. “You’re my kid. It’s my job to take care of you.” My entire reason for being, if I’m honest. Breathing hard, I look down at my tight fists, and force them to loosen.
“Yeah? Well, Mom’s good. Really good. And I’m doing pretty well.” She widens her eyes and leans over the tray. I can tell whatever she’s about to say is going to be a doozy. “Maybe it’s time to take care of you, now.” With that, my daughter sticks out her tongue and waltzes off, leaving me blindsided.
“Shit,” I mutter, staring into space for a few seconds as what she said sinks in.
As soon as it does, I grab