Don't Call Me Daddy

Chapter One

Ainsley

I have a type.

Big. Mean. Older.

I can’t help the type of guys I’m attracted to. I was dreaming about my teachers when I was high school and my college professors when I actually attended classes. I flirted shamelessly and went home to cry into my pillow when my advances were rejected.

It’s too bad I didn’t have as much enthusiasm for my classes as I had for the men that taught them. I might be in a better spot right now, instead of trying to figure out if I can successfully steal a Red Bull from this gas station without getting caught.

The guy behind the counter kind of has the Daddy vibe going on. I wish he would catch me and teach me a lesson himself instead of calling the cops.

But he’s probably married with kids my age and would reject me on the spot just like every other guy I’ve made a fool out of myself in front of.

So I’ll settle for a Red Bull and pray I don’t leave this place in handcuffs.

Unless they’re his handcuffs.

I’m somewhat ashamed to say that I’ve become an expert at shoplifting. I know where to stand, how the cameras move, and that in a little store like this, there’s nobody watching them anyway. I just have to make sure the guy behind the counter doesn’t have a reason to look my way. He’s preoccupied with his newspaper; I can’t believe people still read those things.

I open the fridge, grab a Red Bull, and let it fall into my purse while pretending that I’m considering my options. A quick glance toward the guy behind the counter confirms that he didn’t notice a thing.

Perfect.

Now to pretend like I’m really interested in some snacks before I head for the door.

“Are you going to pay for that Red Bull, miss?” The guy behind the counter puts his newspaper down and glares at me.

“Um, uh…” I stammer as I try to talk. “What Red Bull?”

“The one in your purse.” He stands up.

Shit.

My only option is to run. I don’t want to be here when the cops show up, that’s for damn sure. I push the door open, and before I can even break into a sprint, I slam into a man who is trying to enter the gas station—a man wearing a very recognizable uniform with a badge on the front of it.

“Watch it!” he snaps at me and steps to the side.

“Sorry!” I try to slide past him.

“Stop her! She’s a shoplifter!” The guy behind the counter just lucked out, and I just fucked myself.