Chapter 68

I stood very still. She calls him Daddy?

I almost didn't know what to say. "Wait, so Bob doesn't have a daughter?"

"Oh, he totally does." Kayla looked heavenward. "But she is such a crybaby."

I felt my gaze narrow. "Is that so?"

"Totally," Kayla said. "She's like the most spoiled girl I know. Thank God she doesn't live with us."

"She doesn't?" I said. "So where does she live?"

"Right now? She's a senior at Purdue."

"The university?"

"No. The chicken plant."

"Huh?"

"I’m kidding," she said. "Of course, the university. She's like older than me, so you'd think she'd be past the whole crying thing, you know?"

What could I say to that?

Hell, what could I say to any of this?

Fortunately, I was spared the need of making a reply when my cell phone rang in my pocket. I yanked it out and glanced at the display, only to feel the color drain from my face.

It was him. Zane.

I glanced in the general direction of his estate. If I didn't answer, would he come over in person?

Now?

Yikes.

I said to Kayla, "Can you excuse me for a moment?" And then, without waiting for an answer, I practically dove for the nearby powder room and slammed the door shut behind me. I answered with a hushed, "Hello?"

Zane said, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"I'm coming over."

"What, why?"

"Because you sound scared."

"I'm not scared." I forced a laugh. "You just caught me by surprise, that's all."

He was quiet for a long moment. "All right."

Did he believe me? From his tone, I couldn’t be sure.

But I hadn't been lying. True, I was surprised that he called, and yeah, maybe a little nervous, but that wasn't the same as scared.

I forced a smile into my voice. "Seriously, everything's fine."

"Uh-huh." And yet, he didn't sound convinced. "So, where'd you go?"

"What do you mean?"

"An hour ago, you left. But the alarm wasn't engaged."

I stifled a curse. He was right. In all the confusion, I'd totally forgot. "Oh, jeez. Sorry about that. I dashed out for a minute."

"You were gone thirty."

"Was I? How do you know?"

"I got a report from the guard."

"Wait, so you're spying on me?"

"No," he said in a tone of infinite patience. "I'm making sure the house is secure."

"Oh, because you're worried about the stuff?"

"Fuck the stuff," he said. "There's only one thing in that house that I'm worried about."

Something about his tone made me feel just a little bit breathless. "Really?"

"Yeah, and I'm talking to her."

My heart fluttered, and I felt myself smile. I wanted to say something, but I had no idea what.

I was still searching for a decent response when he said, "Listen, I told myself I'd stay away, because you looked like you needed some space. But…" His words trailed off into silence.

I was dying to know what he'd say next. "But…?"

"But fuck that. You know what you need?"

"What?"

"Me."

That single word sent my world spinning.

Yes. Him.

Holy hell. He was right. I heard myself murmur, "I know."

With a smile in his voice, he replied, "Yeah?"

I was still smiling, too. "Definitely." And to my surprise, I realized that I meant it with all my heart. Maybe he was a prick, but now, I could totally see why.

On the phone, Zane said, "The hell with this. I’m coming over."

I practically gulped, "Now?"

"Is that a problem?"

Was it? Suddenly, I was desperate to see him. We hadn't resolved anything, and I had no idea what he had in mind. And yet, the longing was so strong that I could hardly control myself.

Still, I forced myself to say, "How about I'll come to your place?" On instinct, I reached out turned on the faucet. "I need to get cleaned up, maybe take a shower or something."

"Or," he said in a voice that was way too compelling, "you could come over and shower with me."

I swallowed. I could shower with him. Even now, I could imagine his body all slick and lathered – and his hands – oh, boy – he had nice hands. And the places they could go…

Already, sweet, warming sensations were creeping upward from my toes, and downward from my face. If I kept on thinking, I knew exactly where all that warmth would settle – right in the middle.

I murmured, "That sounds really nice."

A sudden pounding on the door made me jump. A split second later, Kayla's voice carried from the other side. "Hey! You didn't forget I'm here, did you?"

On the phone, Zane said, "Who's that?"

Stupidly, I said, "Who's who?"

"Was that your sister?"

"Uh, nope." And then, in a rush, I said, "But I've gotta go, so I'll catch you in a bit, okay? Alrighty then. Bye." I disconnected the call before he could say a single word in response.

I wasn't going to lie to him, but the way I saw it, a little delay would be a very good thing – if nothing else, to give me some time to clean up my mess – and I didn't mean the normal kind.

No. My mess was still pounding on the door. "Hey!" she called. "You didn't fall in, did you?"

Into where? The toilet? I stifled a shudder and called out, "I'll be out in a second!" I turned off the faucet and yanked open the door to see Kayla standing like two inches away.

She said, "You do remember that I'm in a hurry, right?"

Through gritted teeth, I said, "Oh, I remember, all right."

"And do you always talk on the phone when you've got company?"

Company? She wasn't company. I wasn't sure what she was, but I intended to find out. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Gee, I'm ever so sorry."

"Whatever. I’m just saying, it's pretty rude."

I stared at her. Speaking of rude…

"And anyway," she continued, "I need your help."

"For what?" I asked.

She glanced around. "As long as I’m here, I figure I might as well grab a few things."

"You mean from the boxes?"

She gave a breezy wave of her hand. "Nah, I'll worry about that stuff later. But I wouldn’t mind snagging a few paintings."

I blinked. "What?"

"The paintings," she repeated. "They'd go great in our new place."

I didn't even know what particular paintings she meant, but I did know that if she started ripping stuff off the walls, we were going to have a serious problem.

I said, "I can't let you do that."

"Why not?"

Did I really need to explain? "Because I don't have the authority. I mean, I'm just a house-guest."

Her mouth tightened. "Yeah. In my house."

"Look," I said, "I've gotta be honest here. I'm not understanding any of this."

"What's so hard to understand?"

"Well, like Bob. If he's not your dad, that means he's your…?"

She looked at me like I was a complete moron. "Husband. You didn't know?"

I did now.

In truth, I'd begun to suspect as much. "So, that would make Teddy what? Your stepson?"

She drew back. "Hell no. That's disgusting."

I gave her a confused look. "Why? Because he's not your type?"

"No, because he's my ex."