Daddy's Fiery Little (Wounded Daddies 5)

She looks at me and scowls. “Why are you smiling like an ass?” she snarls. “You look like a complete fool!”

If she wasn’t so damned cute when she’s angry, I might be hurt.

“I’m smiling because your song was great.”

“Oh really?” she says. “I would have thought if you liked my singing, you wouldn’t have disappeared for my set.”

“There’s work I had to do,” I say with a smile. The fact that I’m not fighting back is killing her, I can tell. He eyes narrow and she looks like she might just spontaneously burst into flame. I pass a glass of wine to her. She bats it away, spilling some on the floor.

“I can get my own damned drink!” she says.

“Watch your tone,” I say sternly. Her face grows flushed and she lets out a sigh at the command but then she scowls.

“Don’t you dare tell me to watch my tone!” she says. “Don’t you dare!

I look at her and say what is likely the most frustrating thing for her to hear. “That’s enough!” I say.

Again, she reacts as though it’s the most wonderful thing she’s ever heard in her life and again she scowls. She turns around swiftly and stomps her way back to her dressing room and, I suppose, into her apartment.

This is going to be fun.

It isn’t how I envisioned the conversation starting but it’ll do. I finish the night at the club happily and when all the customers and employees are gone, I make my way through the dressing room to her door. I take a deep breath and for just a brief moment consider whether or not a confrontation now is the right thing to do. In the end, I can’t help myself. I knock firmly.

It doesn’t take long before it opens. She looks so damned lovely I almost forget what I intend to say. I manage, though.

“You aren’t going to talk to me like that and then walk away.”

She scowls at me and backs up. “Oh yeah?” she asks belligerently. “Is that so?”

“Get back over here, little girl,” I say.