Page 42 of Last on the List
He grunts.
“Will you tell me what your cards are?”
He slides unamused eyes to Everly and shakes his head stiffly.
She sticks out her lower lip.
He sighs heavily and turns his cards to her.
“This is why she keeps winning!” Calder barks, slapping his hand on the table, his competitive nature in full throttle tonight. “This is total bullshit.”
Josh tosses his chips out onto the table, shaking his head at the spectacle of my family. “All right, everyone…place your bets.”
I match him and glance out the window toward the guesthouse for probably the twentieth time tonight. It’s dark out now, and I can see the lights on inside. Every once in a while, I spot the silhouette of Cassandra’s body through the windows, and I can’t help but wonder what she’s doing in there. Is she thinking of going out tonight in search of that “summer fling”?
I inwardly groan. That was quite the conversation we had in the workshop last night. First, I walk in on some fucked-up version of a porn scene. Didn’t think a female doing woodworking was my kink but seeing the round ass of Cassandra hunched over a slab of wood that she was lighting on fire in that backward hat and those clear goggles made me see otherwise.
Fuck…I was done for.
Then she tells me women get blue balls right before she mentions she’s looking for a summer fling. I didn’t know what end was fucking up by the end of that conversation! I’m certain this isn’t the type of relationship most single dads have with their kid’s nanny, but I’m also certain most single dads don’t leave fucking hickeys on the person they’ve employed to watch their kid for the summer either.
Fuck.
After we cleared the air, I thought I would feel better, but then she had to overshare about her goals to hunt for summer dick, and now my mind is consumed with thoughts about her with another guy.
“Why do you keep looking outside?” Dean asks, adjusting his glasses as he glances at his cards. Josh looks over his shoulder to see what I might be looking at.
“Just watching the weather,” I mumble and turn my focus back to my cards. I spy Luke staring at me, so I sharply decide to ignore that nosy fucker.
The rest of the table finishes placing their bets just as the doorbell rings. I frown, wondering who that could be because everyone I know is already here.
I open the door to find a lanky blonde standing on my front step. Her eyes widen obnoxiously as she leans against the door and purrs, “Hello, Maxamillion.”
“Do I know you?” I inquire curiously.
She huffs out a laugh and then clears her throat. “Sorry, I’m Dakota, Cozy’s friend. I’m here to pick her up.”
She reaches out to shake my hand, and I can’t help but notice this girl looks like she’s dressed for a night out on the town. Is Cassandra going to be dressed like her? I shake my head and reply, “Cassandra is out back in the guesthouse.”
“No worries! I just texted her and told her I was up here. She said she’ll be right up.”
A loud argument breaks out behind me that has Dakota frowning curiously. “Sounds like you’re having a party,” she says, trying to peer over my shoulder.
“No party, just poker night. Please, come in,” I respond woodenly as I step back and guide her over to the dining room table that’s covered in snacks, poker chips, and cards.
“What do we have here?” Dakota sweet-talks, propping her hand on the back of Wyatt’s chair. Wyatt hides his cards from her.
Calder fiddles with the sleeves of his flannel and flashes her a wicked grin. “You got any money?”
“I do, but I usually make the man pay for me,” Dakota answers with a flirtatious wink. “It’s possibly anti-feminist of me, but I figure taking a man’s money is also a way to fuck the patriarchy.”
“What’s a patriarchy?” Everly’s voice interjects as she returns to the table from the bathroom off the library.
Dakota’s eyes widen in horror. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there.” She covers her mouth and shoots me a guilty look.
“It’s okay,” I reply, sitting down in my chair and shooting my cute kid a wink as she resumes her spot at the table too. “Everly knows what words aren’t for her.”
“Is patriarchy a bad word, Daddy?”
