Page 64 of Her Possessive Daddies

I need to get her alone tonight. Just five minutes to see if I'm reading this right. If she feels whatever this electric thing is between us too.

But first we have to survive dinner with Corey's spawn. God help us all.

"So tell me about these night classes. What's the endgame?" I look over at her, catching the way her eyes light up at the question.

"Clinical psychology. I want to help people work through their trauma, you know? Not just the surface stuff, but the deep-seated issues that shape who we become."

The passion in her voice hits me right in the chest. No rehearsed answer here - this is raw and real.

"And the bartending?"

"Perfect research, actually. People tell bartenders everything." She laughs, but there's wisdom there. "Plus, it helps pay for school. Can't exactly rely on daddy's money like some people."

The dig at her ex makes me smile. "Smart and savvy. I like it."

"I've got this dream of opening my own practice someday. Something intimate, where people feel safe. Not one of those sterile offices with the weird abstract art and tissues everywhere."

Jesus. Beauty, brains, and actual goals? Where the hell has this girl been hiding?

"You've really thought this through."

"Had to. Nobody else was going to create my future for me." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Probably sounds silly to someone like you though. I mean, you've already built your empire."

"Not silly at all." My fingers itch to touch her hand. "It's refreshing actually. Most people your age are still trying to decide what they want for breakfast."

"Speaking from experience with Corey's son?"

"Something like that." I shake my head, still baffled. "How did that ex of yours let someone like you get away?"

"Someone like me?"

"Driven. Focused. Actually giving a damn about making something of yourself." The words come out hotter than intended. "Plus, you know, the obvious."

"The obvious?"

"Don't play coy, sweetheart. You know exactly how gorgeous you are."

She smiles shyly and looks away. Christ, she really doesn't know, does she? How is that even possible?

Corey's house looms ahead, all sleek modern lines and dramatic lighting. I kill the engine but can't quite bring myself to move yet. Next to me, Abbie's breathing has gone shallow.

"We could make a run for it," I suggest, only half-joking. "I know this great little bar downtown."

She laughs, but it's tight. "Tempting. Very tempting."

"You okay?"

"Just... processing. Meeting the son, the whole formal dinner thing." She smooths her dress. "Plus, you know. After what happened with you and Corey that night..."

My grip tightens on the wheel. "We don't have to talk about that. Not right now, anyway."

"I know. It's just weird, right? All of us pretending everything's normal?"

"Welcome to high society, sweetheart. We excel at pretending."

Through the windshield, I spot movement - Corey's silhouette passing one of the front windows. Any minute now he'll wonder what's taking so long.

"Ready for the circus?" I ask.

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