Page 71 of Love Off Course

He and Daddy exchange a look before David chuckles. “I’ll tell you all about it. Come on.”

Daddy’s features are impassive as he watches David clutch my arm. Mona frowns but doesn’t intervene. David guides me outside. He moves his palm to the small of my back, guiding me through the crowded bar area outside of the hotel restaurant.

Eventually we make it to a gazebo that glitters with twinkling lights. The wind is warm tonight and tickles the hair hanging from my messy bun. I’d seen the shock of all three of their faces when I came to dinner with my hair in a different style. I just didn’t, for once, feel like straightening it.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” David says, his hand sliding from the small of my back to my hip as he sort of side hugs me but doesn’t let go.

I’m stiff in his grip. At one time, I dreamed for this moment. “So? The black eye?”

“It’s nothing.”

“David, you promised.”

He lets out a heavy sigh, his thumb rubbing along my hip bone. “Your dad.”

I swivel around to look up at him. His hands settle on my lower back as he regards me with a smirk.

“Daddy? Why? You two never argue or fight, much less start swinging at each other.” I’m blown away by the fact my father hit his best friend.

“Let’s just say I deserved it.”

“What did you do?”

“I told him I wanted something of his.”

“Daddy doesn’t like to share.”

His brows furl and he pats my ass. “No, he doesn’t. Especially when it comes to his little girl.”

I freeze, understanding washing over me. “It was about me?”

“It was.” He sighs. “I told him I was going to start dating you.” He pulls me close to his chest. His erection pokes into my stomach. It reminds me of the night we had sex. How anticlimactic it was.

“He said no?”

“He said hell no and then punched me in the face.” He chuckles, massaging my ass through my dress. “I told him too damn bad.”

My mind is reeling. “And he let you walk away?”

“He made me promise I wouldn’t hurt you.” His features soften. “I would never intentionally hurt you, Sheridan. I love you. Always have. You’ve always been like family to me. Then…”

Staring up at him now, I’m trying to recall what it was that had me so obsessed with him. I wanted to marry this man, for crying out loud. But as I look at him, I don’t feel the samefeelings Camilo evoked in me. No fire. No intense feelings. No overwhelming attraction. It’s mild affection for a longtime friend.

“Then you came on to me after dinner that night,” he murmurs. “I drank too much. We ended up at that hotel in bed together. It was nice what we had. It will grow to be better.”

I keep waiting for the pattering of my heart.

The flush of my cheeks.

Warmth between my thighs.

Anything.

All I feel is nothing.

“David,” I start, pressing my hands against his chest that’s soft from age and years of working at a desk. “We shouldn’t?—”

He cuts me off, his mouth dipping toward mine. I let out a shriek and duck. Our mouths don’t connect and I get a sloppy kiss on my nose before I manage to untangle myself from his arms. A shudder wracks through me and I don’t understand the sudden repulsion. It’s David. I love him.

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