Daddy in Disguise (Crescent Cove 7)

He had been smiling when he walked into the café with Jessica, and now he was on the verge of losing it because of me. Didn’t that just say everything?

“We agreed to no drama.” I fought to keep my tone steady. “To just let this run its course and when it had, when the threat was gone, we would end it.”

His eyes popped open and his grip tightened. “The threat isn’t gone. You just said it. And if I have to play this fucking dating game to keep you in my life, fine, I’ll do it. I vowed I’d never play games with anyone again, but you’ve put me back in that place, haven’t you?”

I tried to yank my wrist free. It took a second, but he finally let me go and held up his hands. “You know what? You’re right. We agreed not to do this. No big breakup.”

Yeah, fine. Right. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, but I nodded.

“I just never guessed you’d take the coward’s way out because you’re too fucking scared to see I’m not Lou. Dani isn’t Malcolm. If you want to rewrite this story and stick your own ending on it, go ahead. But don’t tell yourself that you were magnanimous enough to push me toward a woman I don’t love when I know who I do.”

My head reared up, but it was too late. All I saw was the back of his jacket before he slammed out of the kitchen.

What the hell had he said? What did he mean? He couldn’t—

God, could he?

I moved forward, already i

n a full-on run, and collided with Vee in the doorway. She toppled a tray, and I wasn’t sure which one of us screeched louder. Immediately, I went into mom mode, patting her down, asking if she was okay, if anything hurt.

No need to ask me, since literally every part of me did. Body. Mind. Heart. And my freaking eyes were leaking like someone had left on the tap.

“Macy, stop. Mace.” She dropped the stuff in her hands on the counter before cupping my face.

Just like that, a fissure opened up inside me. One that had been stitched closed with the thinnest of wires these past few years, and now they were giving way.

“Let’s sit and talk, okay? We’ll go upstairs.” Vee rubbed her thumb over my cheeks. “I’ll make tea—” Catching my expression, she laughed. “Sorry, mom instinct. Coffee. Of course coffee. You’ll tell me what happened, and we’ll figure it all out, all right?”

“I think it already is figured out, just figured out all wrong.” I swallowed over the razor blades lining my throat. “I just told the guy I’m in love with, the father of the kid I love, to go back to his ex.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “What the fuck have I done?”

Nineteen

I stormed into The Haunt. “Fuck.”

My heart was thundering and my brain was going to fucking explode. After all of the shit we’d been through, Macy actually thought I’d ever choose my ex-wife over her? No freaking way.

Had I really been so wrong about her?

August Beck peeked around the tall, skinny armoire I’d commissioned for Macy’s soft opening. She didn’t know about it. Hell, I’d barely been able to give her one small surprise in this entire endeavor. Damn woman was a control freak’s control freak.

“Is that a ‘fuck’ because something broke? Or a ‘fuck’ because you’re trying not to throttle a woman?” August went back to calmly stroking stain over the leg of the ash wood.

I tipped my head back. I thought I’d be alone in here of all places. I sagged against the bar stool and propped my elbows on the ebony bar. The place was completely finished. The floors shone in the filtered sunlight through the walnut-stained slatted blinds. The booths were lined up perfectly. The bar was flawless behind me.

For a horror-based restaurant, at this moment it would stand up to the most stringent white glove test.

August was sitting cross-legged on a large drop-cloth—far larger than the piece required—and I probably could have kissed him for it.

“What are you doing in here, man?”

“Quiet. Well, it was.” He moved his long, even strokes with the brush up the side of the unit. “Kinleigh has Aretha Franklin going at top volume next door. Not that I don’t love the queen of soul or anything, but if she plays ‘Respect’ one more time today, I’ll probably break her vintage gramophone she loves so goddamn much.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Women are the bane of my existence right now.”

“So, door number two. Got it. Eh, not surprising when you have a woman as fiery in spirit as Macy Devereaux. Dude, French and slightly crazy. With those wild eyes, I wouldn’t be shocked if there was some Irish in there too.”

“Are you checking out my woman?”