Page 19 of Baby for my Daddy's Best Friend

But my thirst isn’t quenched so easily.

The effect that woman is having on me surprises me.

It has been nearly a week since we kissed now, and I have gone to great lengths to avoid interacting with her in hopes that I’ll forget about her if I stay far enough.

But she’s tattooed to my mind.

I sigh. Forbidden pleasures always do appear to be that much sweeter. But I have to endure and ensure I stay away from her.

I head out without wasting any more time.

“Hosting again today?” one of the girls comes over to me, grinning.

I remember her from earlier. She’d been rather obvious in her attempts to hit on me. Too bad I cannot remember her name for the life of me.

“You know it…” I try to eye her badge for her name.

She smiles. “Mary.”

“Right, sorry.” I smile and move further along, focusing my attention on the group of influencers that have gathered for the activities.

We’re standing in the area near the pond now, and the sun is casting its brilliant glow over the grass.

Inadvertently, I scan the crowd for Quinn.

Our gazes meet for a second before she drops it.

“Today, we’ll be spending some time out in the sun. I hope you have your sunblocks ready. You’ll be making your own customized wine labels.” My eyes scan the crowd, and I have to make a concerted effort not to focus only on her. “At the end of this, you’ll get the keep the customized label and your very own bottle of wine to go with.”

The group murmurs.

I already knew that the idea would be a hit among them. There’s nothing that gets an influencer better than something that has their name slapped on.

“Can you please help me out here,” Mary asks as I walk past her. “I could really use the extra creativity.”

“Sure, what do you need?” I examine her label, which so far just has a lazy heart drawn on it.

“E and M,” she whispers in a sultry manner. “Do you think that’ll make for a good label?”

I resist the urge to laugh. “Depends. Is E your boyfriend’s initial?”

“I’d sure like it to be.” She winks.

This young girl is practically throwing herself at me. Perhaps she’s the distraction I need to get Quinn out of my mind.

But the thought is as appealing as watching paint dry.

I shake my head. “I think you’re better off just writing your own name there.”

Her mouth falls open. But I swiftly move on to check on the rest of the group.

When I finally reach Quinn, she seems to be distracted.

In fact, she hasn’t even touched her label-making supplies yet.

Odd.

She’s usually one of the most enthusiastic participants in most activities.

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