Page 61 of Her Possessive Daddies

The easy banter between us feels right, natural. No complications, no overthinking. Just her smile and the way she keeps finding excuses to drift back to where I’m sitting.

"So tell me about your day," I say, savoring both the bourbon and her company. "Any interesting characters besides me?"

"Oh, you wouldn't believe the stories." She launches into a tale about a high-end bachelor party gone hilariously wrong, her hands animated as she talks.

I could listen to her for hours. Watch the way her eyes crinkle when she laughs, how she bites her cheeks when she's trying not to smile at my terrible jokes. I feel young again. Lighter.

I take another sip of bourbon, working up the courage to confirm Friday. "Speaking of interesting characters... about that dinner invitation for Friday. You're still coming, right?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, it's turned into quite the event. Donovan and Mindy will be there."

"Oh?" Her eyebrow arches. I'm wondering what that response is to the two of them coming.

"Yeah, well. Seth's coming too. And, ah, my son wants to introduce his new girlfriend."

"Your son?" The glass she's wiping freezes mid-motion. "Wow. I'll meet him for the first time, then."

"Yeah. Trust me, we'll need backup. He's a bit of a... handful."

"That bad?"

"Let's just say he makes Seth look mature and responsible. He's a little shit, unfortunately. Needs some more time to grow up."

"Now that's saying something." She sets down her cloth, leaning closer. "Should I be worried?"

"Nah. But having you there will make it bearable. Plus, you can help me keep Seth and Donovan in line."

"So I'm crowd control now?" Her lips quirk up. "Good thing I've had practice dealing with drunk customers."

"You might need those skills." I drain my glass. "Hopefully not."

"Don't worry." She winks, refilling my bourbon. "I've got your back."

The way she says it, so casual yet sincere, makes my chest tight. Here I am, dragging her into my complicated life, and she's just rolling with it. Making jokes. Promising support.

"What should I bring?" Abbie fidgets with her bar towel. "Or wear? I mean, meeting your son, that's kind of a big deal."

My heart skips at her nervousness. The way she searches my face for reassurance. "Just bring yourself. You're more than enough."

"But it's your house, and-"

I reach for her restless hands, catching them in mine. "You could show up in sweats and still be the most beautiful woman there."

"Now I know you're full of it." A blush creeps across her cheeks. "But seriously, I want to make a good impression."

"Trust me, you already have." I squeeze her fingers before letting go. "With everyone who matters."

"Everyone except your son."

"He's not the one you need to impress." The bourbon burns warm throughout my body, matching the heat in my voice. "You've already got me wrapped around your finger."

Her eyes widen at my candor. "Mr. King, are you flirting with me at work?"

"Yep." I enjoy how her breath catches. "And it's Corey. Save the 'Mr. King' for when I'm being particularly... demanding."

"You're terrible." But her smile tells a different story. "So really, nothing? Not even a bottle of wine?"

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