Page 42 of Baby for my Daddy's Best Friend

“Practicing self-restraint, are we?” she teases, her mood lifted.

It’s one of the things I like about her. She doesn’t seem to mull over things longer than needed.

“With you looking like that? I have better odds of winning the lottery.”

She leans forward, hovering her lips over my ear. “Mr. Marchetti, what if I told you that you already did?”

And just like that, I’m pulling her on top of my lap to show her how much I enjoy my prize.

Over and over again.

***

Quinn is in a terrific mood on the drive back to the vineyard, and as usual, her energy is infectious.

“You should take me dancing,” she comments as she leans back on the passenger seat, the wind blowing in her hair.

“Dancing?” I cock an eyebrow.

“Dancing. You and me. I want you to show me what you got.”

It’s been years since I’ve done anything of the sort, and my skills in the area are nothing to be proud of, but the way she says it, I can’t find it in me to turn her down.

“You’ll have to teach me.”

“Nothing complicated about it. All you do is find a pretty girl and sway her to the rhythm.” She grins.

“I have the first part down already.”

“Do you, now?” She leans forward.

We’re almost at the vineyard now, and I slow my speed down to a crawl. I don’t want the moment to end just yet.

“Yeah. I hope you’re not jealous again.”

“I have no reason to be. I mean, I’ve managed to find myself a real hunk, too.” She winks.

“Lucky guy. He might just impress you with a bad rendition of the wop on the dancefloor.”

“The wop?” She laughs, and I realize the reference went over her head completely, and I might have shown my age too much.

“Or whatever it is that’s on trend these days.”

A part of me worries that Quinn will realize just how much of a difference there is in our life experiences, and it’ll make her pull away.

I can’t expect someone young like her to be tied down to me. It would be unfair.

Of course, I’ve lived a full life, had many experiences, have enough money to last me a lifetime. Still, she should experience the world with someone who is experiencing it with her for the first time too, not someone who has been there and done it all.

Except, the thought of her having someone her own age kills me.

I push it out of my head. For now, I’m content with being selfish and having her for myself.

I park at a quiet corner of the vineyard and turn to look at her.

“So, dancing?” she asks.

“Whenever you want.” I rest my hand on her thigh.

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