Daddy Undercover (Crescent Cove 9)

“The sheriff has no say in what I do.” Rather than continue this pointless discussion, I aimed a tight smile at the rest of my friends. “Enjoy your meals.”

After rolling the now empty dinner cart into the back, I grabbed the phone and took it into the most private part of the kitchen. Which was not private at all.

Not that I needed privacy to talk to Jared. I just wanted to avoid gossip.

Good luck there.

“Is she okay?” I asked in an undertone.

“Hello to you too. How’s work?”

“You didn’t call to ask how my shift is going. So, get to it.”

“Maybe I want some sausage and peppers. It’s Tuesday, isn’t it?”

As he damn well knew, since I’d spent the night there again last night. And the night before that.

“If you want some, you know how to drive over here and get it.” As soon as the words were out, I realized exactly why he could not do that. I huffed out an exasperated breath. “You need to start talking. What do you want?”

“Just you.”

“Uh huh.” I pursed my lips. “Do you have spies at the diner?”

“What? No.”

Why would he need them? We weren’t a couple. He had no reason to care if I’d made a not-even-a-date with Caleb to look at some lights.

Remember Scott Piney?

I didn’t want to think about Scott, since he’d been a jerk of the first order. But I also remembered how he’d told me I should “get my shit straight with the sheriff” before he’d ghosted me last summer. We hadn’t even been dating, just sort of circling each other.

I’d never known what Jared had said or done to warrant that comment, because Scott had gotten Misty Stor knocked up a few weeks later, and I hadn’t been invested yet anyway.

But a lot of people assumed things about us. Was he giving off some kind of weird possessive vibes?

Was I?

“Why would I need spies there?” he continued. “Is someone hassling you?” I could hear rustling on the other end of the line. “I can figure this out and come down to handle it.”

“No. Brooks, don’t be ridiculous. And figure things out how? She’s not twelve.” It wasn’t as if he could leave Samantha alone.

I didn’t need him to come help me in any case. For what, a guy asking me out? In a manner of speaking.

I had no reason not to tell him. I would. Probably.

Just not on the phone.

“Don’t question my methods. If you need me, I’ll make it work. You know you’re most important.”

“Not anymore,” I said softly, though my chest was basically melted cheese right now. “And I’m fine. Jus

t you always seem to know when…”

“When what?”

When I’m trying to get a little distance from you for self-preservation.

Then again, if he was working Saturday night, and I was with Caleb, who would watch the baby? Unless he finally came clean to everyone before then.