Page 17 of Church Girl
“Bye, Daddy? Wow, it’s like that?” I arch an eyebrow. I’m pleased their first meeting went well. Still, it stings a little that she’s willing to ditch me for her new friend and slime. I look at Aaliyah. “How you two getting over there? You drive?”
“I do drive, but I don’t have a car. I was just going to Uber over there then back to your house after some lunch.”
I nod. “Aight. But you can’t take a rideshare everywhere. That’ll work for today but not when you need to pick her up for school and go other places. All that will eventually add up.”
“I understand, but unfortunately, I don’t have a car for the time being, so Uber it is.”
“That’s not gon’ work. I don’t want my little girl getting in cars with strangers. People on some foul shit out here. Hold up.”
I turn around and stride back toward my office before she opens that mouth and contradicts me again. She doesn’t know yet, but I don’t run no damn democracy. I have the final say. Especially when it comes to Gia.
A minute later, I return and hold out the keys to my Ford F-150 XLT. After a brief hesitation, she accepts the keys, staring down at them like they’re foreign objects.
“I thought you said you could drive,” I say.
She snaps her gaze up to me. “I can but... I don’t know about being responsible for someone else’s car.”
“You’re good. It’s safer than climbing in and out of different people’s cars. And it has GPS, so you don’t have to worry about getting lost. Chicago no doubt has more traffic than you’re used to in—wherever you come from.”
“Parsons,” she says, that spicy edge back in her voice. “Parsons, Alabama.”
“Uh-huh, lil’ mama. I don’t care what way you say it, that shit still sounds country as fuck.” Her eyes narrow, and I’m pretty sure she’s calling me about six different kinds of dicks in her head. I don’t care about that, either. “I’ll get a ride home after I’m through here for the day, and then we can figure out the rest.”
“Fine.”
“I got your number, and you should have mine now. Save it and text me when you get to Sloomoo. Know what? Just hit me up when you move to different places so I know where you at.”
“Yes, sir.”
I pause, studying her face, taking in the irritation shadowing those toffee-colored eyes, the sprinkle of freckles, the heavy bottom lip and the delicate but stubborn chin. The dimples are nowhere in sight. Good. Those shits are overkill in a face that belongs on somebody’s fresco wall, and not in a Chicago tattoo shop.
What also doesn’t belong?
The heat licking up my spine and the underside of my dick. I’m not into BDSM, but I’m a fucking man. And hearing her utter those two words while staring at me with that damn innocence bleeding from her pores like an expensive perfume? Yeah, my dick’s bricking up and ain’t a damn thing I can do about it.
“You might want to kill that shit, ma,” I murmur low enough for only her to hear. “That and the little attitude you call yourself having gon’ get you in trouble you don’t want.”
Her eyes flare wide, and her lips part as red rushes into her face, staining that flawless brown skin. My gaze drops to those still-parted lips, and a better man than me could keep away the image of tapping his dick on that lush bottom one before pushing deep inside.
I’m not that man.
Clearing her throat, she steps back, and I have to check the urge to disappear that space she placed between us.
Employee.
Gia’s nanny.
Both reasons are enough to cool the lust whistling through me like one of those tornadoes that whip through her home state. I can’t afford to antagonize her because I don’t have another nanny option right now. And Gia needs her. So do I.
Besides, as hot as Aaliyah is, that Disney-princess shit she got going on is a turnoff. I already spent more years than I should’ve with a woman who acted like she didn’t know how to operate in this world without me providing for her, buying for her, telling her what to do. Dependence isn’t sexy on a full-grown woman.
Yeah, Aaliyah has this job and she mentioned attending school, but that doesn’t mask the fact that she’s a lamb in a lion’s den. I give her two months, tops. She’s going to be headed back to Parsons, Alabama.
“I’ll text you when we get to Sloomoo,” she murmurs. Switching her attention to Gia, she smiles, and nope, I don’t miss the relief in her tone. “You ready, Gia?”
“Yep.” She heads toward the exit, tugging a laughing Aaliyah behind her. “See you later, Daddy!”
“Bye, G. Behave yourself.”
