Page 52 of From Nowhere

“I’m full,” Lola says, prompting Maren to release my hand.

I gulp down the rest of my water and think about Tia’s permanent scowl, roadkill, and the stench of vomit, just a few things that make my dick go limp.

“Thanks for dinner,” Lola says, hopping off her stool.

I stand, eyeing her until she smirks. My ten-year-old thanked Maren for dinner without a fatherly “What do you say?” prompt.

It’s a modern-day miracle. Is my little girl all grown up? Did Amos’s late-night porn and Dakota’s nosy opinions catapult her into adulthood? God, I hope not.

It has to be Maren; she must bring out the best version of Lola.

“What do you say, Dad?”

Damn!Now she’s making me look bad.

I chuckle. “Sorry, your sudden mastery of manners has left me speechless. Thank you, Maren. I’m so glad we happened to be eating at the same place tonight.”

Maren threads one arm into her thin pink hoodie, and I hold it so she can easily thread the other arm. That’s when I notice Lola eyeing my every move with a huge grin.

“Thank you,” Maren murmurs, eyes flitting between Lola and me like she’s a little nervous.

Lola leads the way to the door, and I nod for Maren to follow her so I can discreetly rest my hand on her lower back.

So her breath hitches.

So my pulse quickens.

So my fucking erection tries to return.

I remove my hand when we reach the door, just as Lola skips toward our bikes by the lamppost.

As soon as we’re outside, I step in front of Maren, keeping Lola at my back. “My head is messed up,” I say, hushed. “I’m ten feet from my daughter, yet I’m having very detailed thoughts about you.”

Maren’s gaze finds my mouth. And since God likes to torture me, she wets her lips. “I need to know more about yourdetailedthoughts.”

Humans are pretty because our minds are so filthy.

Amos is a perv for watching porn, but over the past twenty-four hours, I’ve painted a naked picture of Maren in my mind that no one else can see, and therefore, I’m a perfect gentleman.

Right?

I’ve imagined the shape and texture of her nipples against my tongue; her warm, minty breath quickening over my mouth while my middle fingers slide between her legs; and the slow moan vibrating her chest when I fill her.

“Where are you?” Maren asks, bringing everything back into focus.

With a soft chuckle and a headshake, I glance back at Lola, who has our bikes unlocked. “Uh, I was just thinking about how I missed church last week. I need to do better.”

“Church?” Maren lifts her brow a fraction.

“Yes.” I clear my throat. “Only pure thoughts.”

She returns a slow, suspicious nod before stepping closer and whispering, “I’m going home to take a bath and do things I don’t think Jesus would do. Lord, I’m so sorry.” She brushes past me, hand grazing mine. “Good night, Lola. See you tomorrow.”

By the time we get home, I have a text from her.

Maren: Omg. When did you put this note in my purse?!

I pulled the note from my pocket and slipped it into her purse when we exited the restaurant. Since flowers would have sent Lola into a tizzy, I had to sketch six flowers on the note.

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