Page 5 of Touch My Shelves

I chuckle and correct, “Incognito.”

The first time we went into town, I wore a hat, sunglasses, and a bright floral print shirt like a tourist. Freeya got on board and we both ended up going incognito. Now my daughter has a trunk full of disguises complete with wigs, outfits, shoes, and accessories, or what she calls props for us to choose from.

She doesn’t stop there. Our disguises also come with a Freeya-written backstory and we stay in character and play off each other while in town. It’s incredible. This island is incredible. The locals know who I am and why I’m here, and they protect my identity by playing along. No one has ever asked for my autograph or to sign a copy of one of my books.

They may never have asked for anything, but I do make sizable anonymous donations to the town in appreciation.

“How about we eat Claude’s chicken so we don’t hurt his feelings and tonight, after dinner, we’ll go for ice cream.”

“Yes!” Freeya throws up a fist in celebration.

I make an amendment. “If you let me work a couple of hours this afternoon.”

She nods quickly. “Yes, Daddy. You won’t even know I’m here.”

I don’t believe her for a second. I raise a brow and clarify, “But you will be here, right, Freeya? No wandering off. You’ll work on your school assignments.”

The smile on her face falls and she tries another approach to get out of school. “But I don’t have a teacher.”

“That is by your actions. Until I can find a replacement, I’ll be your teacher.” How I was going to make that happenandwork, I have no idea. I feel the deadline clawing at my back.

Reluctantly, she agrees. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll work on my stories.”

I give her a hug and a kiss on a clean spot on the top of her “bloody” head. “I love you, Freeya.”

I am sure, one day, my daughter is going to outsell me with her stories and I will be one proud papa.

“I love you, Daddy.”

After lunch, I settle Freeya into the school room and walk across the hallway to my office. I’d just opened my laptop and pulled up my manuscript when the phone rings. I frown, seeing my sister’s name on the screen. “Lena, what’s wrong?”

“Really, Brax. You have to stop assuming something bad whenever I call,” she says with loving amusement.

I rub the back of my neck, knowing she’s right. “Sorry. Let me try this again. Hello, Lena. I’m so happy you called.”

She chuckles. “It’s hard to let go, isn’t it, brother?”

So hard. I’ve been responsible for my sister since I was thirteen years old and our father died, leaving us with a mother who was more interested in finding her next husband than raising her children. “Letting go will never happen, squirt. Now why did you call?”

“I’m just calling to see how the book is going. I know you’re coming up on your deadline.”

Lena and I have always been close. I don’t even try to come up with a lie to make her happy. “Not good.”

“What’s going on?”

Where do I even start? “I don’t really know. The words just won’t come. I know the basic direction the story is going to take, but it’s getting there that’s stuck. This book was supposed to be the end of the series, but the network wants more.”

Lena pauses before her reply. “When was the last time you did something fun?”

I huff out a chuckle. “I do fun stuff all the time.”

“I’m not talking about playing with Freeya. When did you do something for you? You know, grown up stuff.”

I grin and lean back in my chair, remembering what happened on my late night run last week. The woman was clearly intoxicated and nothing she said should be taken seriously, but she was obviously going through a dry spell. That was the most action I’ve had in months myself and had to be why I reacted to her so strongly. I’d been dangerously close to falling in with her ridiculous plan of “ravishment.” I grin and reply to my sister, “I’ve been going for runs.”

Just not downtown anymore. I didn’t want to run into Paulina again. I’m not sure she would remember our “tryst,” but I can’t take the chance that she might recognize me without her alcohol goggles on.

Under different circumstances, I would have considered taking her up on her offer. She was gorgeous and funny without her filter in place. I wonder what she’s like without liquid courage making her say exactly what she’s thinking. Clearly, she’s been going out with the wrong kind of men if they don’t know how to pleasure a woman. She did have some inventive ideas of ravishment. I smile to myself, remembering her death by pussy comment. I have a strange feeling that with her, it would be worth it.

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