“Oh, look,” I announce in the name of distraction. “Another message from my dad. Maybe we should see what it says? I mean, you already took it upon yourself to read one of them.”
“I honestly thought it was mine.” Jake winces. “By the way, it might be helpful in the future if one of us gets a new case. They’re too damn similar.”
I stare at him, my eyes saying, Ya think?
But when I notice that he’s looking back at me with an expression I can’t discern, I can’t stop myself from asking, “What? What on earth are you thinking now?”
“It’s just…” He pauses and laughs almost uncontrollably, running a hand through his dark hair. “Now I know there really must be something in your past. No way you’d bring the conversation back around to your dad’s hilarious text messages if there weren’t.”
I choose to ignore that comment by boldly reading my dad’s latest message aloud. I mean, what’s the use in hiding Phil’s nonsense now that it’s been shoved out into the open? “He says, ‘No pressure, though. They say it’s harder to get pregnant—’” I cut myself off immediately, but I continue to read it silently, once I realize just how terrible this text really is.Dad: No pressure, though. They say it’s harder to get pregnant when you’re trying. So, you should just have sex a lot without trying.What the hell, Dad!
On a groan, I set my phone facedown onto the table, and Jake’s expression turns amused.
“C’mon, Holley. You can’t leave me hanging like that.”
I sigh, pick my phone back up, and turn it to face him so he can read it for himself.
“Oh, man. Now I really want to meet your dad. He gives terrific advice.”
“Phil Fields, ladies and gentlemen. A real wise guy.” I shake my head as my phone vibrates in my hand yet again, and I hate that I even check the screen.Dad: That’s what your mother and I did. Lots of practice. Practiced a lot after you, too, but didn’t manage to make any more beauties like you. Think I might’ve had something broken.I groan again, finally succumbing to the pressure, and let my head hit the table. “I’m not prepared for this today. I did not get enough sleep. There isn’t enough sleep in the world to remedy this. I need to go back to bed and wake up in an alternate universe.”
Jake’s chuckles feel good against my skin as he reaches out with a kind hand and squeezes mine. “Relax, everyone has embarrassing parents.”
I lift my head from the table, hope unconcealed in my voice. “Are your parents like this?”
“My parents live in Boise, Idaho,” he counters. “And I’ve never met them.”
“What?”
He shrugs. “They were young. I went into the system.”
“Oh, Jake…”
He waves me off. “Don’t ‘Oh, Jake’ me, Holley. There’s no need for sympathy or sadness on my behalf. I obviously turned out okay, right?”
I look at his big muscles and his even bigger smile. He sure looks good to me. I don’t say that, though. Instead, I offer a small hum of agreement.
“Exactly. No need to waste any time on that. Why don’t I get you a cup of coffee? Maybe it’ll turn your morning around.”
“Yes, please.”
He jumps up from his chair and then turns back to get my order. Or so I think.
“By the way, if you would like to set up all messages from your dad to forward to me, so I can screen them for you in advance, I’d be more than happy to sacrifice my time.”
I flip him off, and he just smirks like he’s been named Funniest Man Alive. I almost forget to breathe when he leans down, so close to my face I can smell the caramel scent his coffee has given his breath. “Mochaccino?”
“Sure.” I normally don’t go for such a fancy brew, but man, I’m impressed he realized how important chocolate is at a time like this. “And extra whipped cream, please.”
“You got it,” he says, running the backs of his knuckles against the line of my cheek. It’s so gentle, so tender…so unexpected.
I never knew a hand against my face could feel that good.
I watch with interest as he saunters up to the counter and orders my drink with ease. He doesn’t look hurried or uncomfortable or like he’s affected by the traumatic messages he’s just read from my father.
I mean, is he wondering at all about the context? Because he sure isn’t acting like it.
My phone buzzes on the table, and I look down to see what else Chatty Chadwick has to say. It’s a nickname given to my dad by my grandparents, and there’s a reason it’s stuck for all these years.Dad: You turned out pretty good, though. So, I guess my sperm have something going for them.Good gravy. How is it possible that receiving a message from your own father with the word sperm in it doesn’t instantly make your phone explode? There should be a fail-safe built in.