Obsessed with a Daddy

“Oh wow, okay.” I blinked in surprise.

John left me alone in my new bedroom, and I decided to start unpacking. The walk-in closet was enormous, and I certainly didn’t have enough stuff to fill it. I could have stacked all of the boxes that were on the way to Los Angeles in the back corner of the closet and still had room to do cartwheels. There was a large dresser that looked more like a wardrobe. All of the socks and underwear I owned would fit in one of the drawers. I probably wouldn’t have needed more than two to hold all of the socks and underwear I had ever owned. The bed was king sized and even bigger than the one in my mother’s bedroom. I wondered if it was a California King. They were supposed to be bigger than regular ones—and I was in California.

I should take a few pictures and send them to my sister. Lorrie is going to be so freaking jealous.

I pulled out my phone, snapped a few panoramic shots, and then walked into the bathroom. There was a large whirlpool tub that reminded me of a Jacuzzi, and two shower heads. The sink was a large oval basin that I could have fit in if I curled up in a ball, and the mirror covered the entire wall behind it. There were also lights on the side of the mirror, which—unfortunately, made me realize I had a couple of blackheads that needed to be handled. I didn’t even notice them when I was getting ready that morning. The mirror made the blackheads stand out so much that I dug into my purse and grabbed my makeup so I could add an extra layer to hide them until I had time to properly handle the problem.

Now what? I guess I could explore the rest of the house…

I walked downstairs and started looking around. The first room I came to appeared to be a library. There was a large oak desk in the middle of the room and more books than I thought anyone could read in one lifetime. I saw some pictures on the wall and walked over to get a better look. I had to assume the guy that appeared in all of them was Greyson Foster. He was—hot. My sister remembered him a lot better than I did, and she mentioned that he was attractive, but that was an understatement. He was standing next to a celebrity from movies or sports in almost every picture, and he looked like he was the star.

He knows a lot of famous people…

In the middle of all the celebrities was a picture of Mr. Foster with my father. Seeing my father’s face was enough to make my eyes tear up. I was only five years old when he passed away. Most of the memories I had of him were stories that other people had told me. I was so young when he passed that I didn’t have many of my own. My father was a little older than Mr. Foster, but not by much. My father just didn’t take good care of himself—and he had a few vices, although most people didn’t mention those when they talked about how great he was. I missed him, even though I didn’t get a chance to really get to know him.

“You must be Christina.” A voice startled me, and I turned around to see the man in all of the photographs standing in the doorway of the library.

Oh my god, is that a—British accent? My mother mentioned that he was a Rugby star in England before he became a sports agent…

“Hi! Mr. Foster!” I walked over and extended my hand. “Most people call me Chrissy.”

“Chrissy...” He took my hand and shook it. “Nobody calls me Mr. Foster. Greyson—or hey, you—yeah you will work just fine.”

Wow, every word he says sound like poetry—and he’s so much hotter in real life…

“It’s nice to meet you—again. I know I met you when I was younger, but I barely remember it.” I looked up at him and for a second, I got lost in his mesmerizing brown eyes.

“You’ve definitely changed a little bit since then…” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m guessing you don’t play with Barbie dolls anymore.”

“No.” I blushed and suppressed a grin. “Thank you so much for letting me stay here. I promise I won’t stay any longer than I have to—a couple of months at most.”

Hopefully I can afford my own place by then if I find a job.

“It’s no trouble at all.” A slight smile formed behind his neatly trimmed beard—it was a darker shade of brown than his eyes with a little bit of gray along his chin. “I have plenty of room and your father was like a brother to me. You can stay as long as you like.”

If I stare at that amazing smile too long, I might never want to leave…

“I really appreciate it…” I nodded and forced myself to look away.

“Are you hungry? I assume you haven’t eaten anything since Chicago?” He turned and started walking down the hallway.

“Now that you mention it…” I followed behind him.

Greyson walked into what appeared to be the living room. It had a fireplace and the biggest television I had ever seen. The couch was big enough to seat my extended family and looked like it was more comfortable than the bed I slept in at home. There were several photographs on the wall in the living room as well, but most of them appeared to be pictures of his family. It looked like Greyson had a couple of brothers that were younger but not quite as attractive as him—and a sister that was absolutely stunning. If the picture of his father was any indication, then Greyson was going be even hotter once he had a little more gray in his beard and a few streaks in his hair.

I’ve never really been attracted to an older man before, but Greyson is so freaking hot that I can’t stop staring…

“Do you eat normal stuff,

or should I ask my chef to start researching how to cook tofu?” He tilted his head inquisitively.

“I eat pretty much anything.” I shrugged. “Except—like, anchovies on my pizza.”

“Okay, good.” He chuckled under his breath. “I don’t like those either.”

Greyson picked up the phone and hit the red button at the bottom. He asked his assistant to have some food delivered and even the word cheeseburger sounded sexy when he said it. I thought he was going to have something delivered, based on the conversation, but instead—a chef showed up and started preparing our meal. I wasn’t sure if he just appeared on command like John or if it was some sort of special service rich people could order. A cheeseburger and fries in my world meant a trip to a fast food restaurant. I would have been happy with that, but Greyson didn’t seem like the fast-food type.

I doubt he maintains that incredible physique on a diet of cheeseburgers and fries. If he does, then I need to know his secret.