Daddy Undercover (Crescent Cove 9)

And that was officially not my problem—except it felt like it was.

I pressed my forehead against the wall. “What did you need? Don’t say me,” I warned, unable to resist smiling as his warm chuckle rolled across the line.

“You’re coming over after, right?”

I’d actually suggested tonight be the first one I spent in my own apartment—and my own bed—in a week. I wasn’t backing off on helping watch Samantha, since her father was still being a tight-lipped jackass about the whole situation, but this couldn’t go on forever. We couldn’t keep playing house as if that was normal. As if we were some kind of jacked-up roomies who just stole thongs and had sex dreams about one another.

I assumed the sex dreams were strictly on my side, but with the belated conclusion I’d reached about my panties, now I wasn’t so sure.

Maybe the reason people kept smelling smoke was because there was a fire somewhere. One I couldn’t see.

Or couldn’t admit to since he’d made a baby with someone else, and I felt like he’d cheated on me.

It didn’t make sense. Yet I was the foolish, besotted chick who couldn’t seem to convince myself of that fact.

“I thought I was headed home tonight.”

“There’s a Christmas rom-com marathon on. I DVR’d it. I thought we could watch? If you wanted to.”

Like the silly woman I was, I twirled my hair around one finger and smiled into the phone. “You hate those.”

“I wouldn’t say hate. I just have questions about them.”

I laughed. “You tear apart every plot and call them nonsensical.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I need to try harder to understand them. Since I have two women in my life now,” he added, slowly piercing my heart with every husky word.

“Jared,” I pleaded.

I didn’t even know what I was asking for. Space. Clarity.

Not to feel like this for him anymore when it couldn’t go anywhere, and his focus should be on his little girl.

“Well, three,” he corrected. “Have to include Sadie too.”

I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure I could.

“If you’d rather go home, that’s fine,” he said stiffly. “I understand.”

I took a deep breath. “I don’t want to go home.”

“Then it’s settled. And maybe you could bring home that sausage? I didn’t get to eat on my shift, and somehow the fridge is mostly empty. Didn’t you just go shopping?”

“A week ago.”

A week that had changed his life. And mine.

Even if I didn’t want to admit it.

Just as I couldn’t admit that when he spoke of bringing things home, I wanted that. I wanted us to have our place. I wanted to belong to him and vice versa.

This past week had brought all of the feelings I shoved down on a regular basis into sharp focus. Denial had been my life for a long time, but it was impossible when I was practically living in his house.

Practically acting like a mother to his sweet daughter.

He exhaled. “Yeah. I’ll have to go shopping. I meant to. It’s just been a lot lately, along with overtime at the station...”

He didn’t finish, and I didn’t need him to. I was already mentally composing the shopping list of items I’d pick up after my shift.