Page 69 of Sins of the Father

I can’t help the perma-grin growing on my face. My cheeks hurt from it. “Are you into dirty texting?”

“Mmm... I might be with you.”

“So, I would be your first sexting recipient?”

“Yep.”

I lean down to her ear. “If you distract me at work, there will be consequences.”

Her green eyes blaze. She whispers, “Like what?”

I fist her hair, tugging her head back, then kiss her so deeply, I get an erection. I groan. “I have to go.” I peck Hope on the cheek, hand her to Harper, and cop a squeeze of Harper’s ass on the way out.

“Say bye-bye Uncle Steven,” she tells Hope and picks her hand up and waves it in the air.

I wave and am almost to the elevator when she comes running down the hall. “Steven.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like lasagna?”

“Love it.”

“Okay. Should I make some for dinner?”

“Dumb question. The answer is always yes.”

She smiles. “Okay. Should I plan for us to eat at eight?”

“Perfect.”

I kiss her again and leave.

I wish I could take the week off.

I have more vacation days rolled over from years of not using them than probably anyone on the planet. But there are deadlines on several projects. I’m the only one who has the skills to complete them, and I’m already behind from not working. I had expected to spend Friday night after the rehearsal dinner, Saturday night after the wedding, and Sunday most of the day, preparing for meetings and finishing things up. But then Harper entered the picture.

She’s like a force field, continually pulling me toward her. She can’t see it and doesn’t even realize it. But every second I spend with her, I want to know more about her.

Harper seems to understand me. She’s fun and impulsive and makes me question things in my life, which is scary and also surprising.

I’m not sure what to do with the thoughts running around in my head, so I shove them away and tell myself to focus on my day.

Usually, I wouldn’t care it was Monday. My world is my career, working out, and limited personal time. Leaving Harper makes me feel dread about my job, and that’s never happened before. But I also feel giddy with happiness. I’m not used to it nor sure what to do with it, and it uncomfortably swirls in my veins.

I get into the car and my phone rings. “Good morning, Shira.”

“Are you sick?”

“No.”

“You’re not here?”

“I’m on my way.”

“Did something happen? Are you injured?”

“Ummm...no.”

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