Page 17 of The Family Man

I like playing with her; she is feisty.

“No baby girl, you threw poop on my shirt. I think you owe me one. I know how I want to collect.” I smirk as her dark eyes widen.

“Really, what do you want?” she asks as she leans on her door, folding her arms, and her hips kick out. Her folded arms push up her breasts.

She knows what she is doing to me. She got those thick thighs that will squeeze my head when I eat her out.

I wonder how she would taste, is she creamy or is she—?

“Zac?” She looks at me like she is reading my thoughts. My dick will have a temporary zip impression on it. The thought of me eating her pussy… Fuck.

“A makeup date.” That came out of my mouth, and I wasn’t even ready for it to leave.

“Oh, you don’t have to. I don’t do pity dates. You honestly don’t owe me anything.” She pulls her hair behind her cute ear.

No, she’s not getting away that easy. “There’s no pity here Sage. Think of it as you are paying me back.” I have her.

She shakes her head. “Okay, when?”

Shit I didn’t think that far out. Things have changed so much with the kids being here.

“Let’s see, today is Sunday. How about this coming Saturday? Do you have plans?” I reply. I will ask Daire or my mom to babysit.

“None.” She blushes.

“Great. Saturday at 7, dress comfortably.” I say, I want her on her back by 9 but I won’t tell her that.

“Okay, Zac. What’s your full name?”

“Do you want to Google me?”Smart girl, I thought.

“I didn’t think of that, but now that you mention it. . .” Her smile is like standing in sunlight.

“It’s Zachary Sullivan. What’s yours?” I know it. I saw it on her mailbox while walking up her walkway.

“It’s Loveridge,” she replies and she waits for me to respond. I wonder what she was expecting. Maybe she got teased in school by some stupid boys.

“Sage Loveridge.” I let her name roll off my tongue.

“Well, if that is all, good night, Mr. Sullivan.” She stands up straight and begins to close the door.

“And you, Ms. Loveridge.”

She closes the door.

I walk back to my porch and there my new princess sits on a rattan chair, her little legs dangle over the edge of the chair.

“Hey, princess.” I sit on the chair next to her.

“Did Aunty Camella tell you Nikhil doesn’t talk? He is not dumb or nothing,” Poppy says as she glares up at me. Her tiny fingers clench the edges of her dress. Her eyes are clear and bright as she waits for me to reply. She will have me wrapped around her finger in a month.

“Yes, she said he hasn’t spoken since your mom’s death.” That did cause me some distress.

“How do you feel about this whole situation.” I’m taking an example from Daire. My brother said I suffer from resting bitch face. Whatever that is. I have been called a hard unmovable wall. However, I need to soften up for my kids. I want to tell her that I am nervous about being a dad. That I’m sorry about her mom’s death. The words, however, just stick in my throat.

She shrugs, looks down into her lap and sniffles. “I want to go back home.”

At least she is honest, but her tears are ripping me apart. “Princess, I understand that. Maybe if you like, you can make this your new home now.”

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