Page 9 of Stalker Stepbrother

“Didn’t peg you for someone who watches this,” I remark.

She jumps in her seat, coffee spilling to the floor. “Oh shoot! I didn’t know you were home already.”

She rushes to grab tissues and wipes the floor. Her lack of awareness of her surroundings concerns me. Living on the street when I was a kid, I learned early on how important it was to be aware of the slightest sound or movement. Being ready to run or throw a punch at a moment’s notice was often the difference between living to see the next morning or dying in one dark corner of the alley.

So…Callie needs me in more ways than one.

She needs someone who can smell bullshit from a mile away, who can sense danger in two seconds flat. And I will be there for her. She doesn’t know it yet, but I will save her from all the Bernards of this world.

Besides, she’s already committed to me, which means, it won’t be long before she becomes my wife and her stomach fills with our child.

Her future belongs to me. She belongs to me.

“Get ready. We’re leaving for dinner in an hour,” I tell her as I kiss her forehead and grab her arm lightly to help her stand.

“Where? I don’t have anything to wear,” she pouts.

I lift the shopping bags and her eyes gleam with delight, giving me a wide grin and standing on her toes to kiss my cheek. Well, shit. I should’ve bought everything in that damn store. “Go on, baby girl. I’ll wait for you here. Dress up for Daddy.”

The air between us becomes thick and charged.

She inhales sharply and fixes me with a gaze. Where the hell did that come from? I have no idea, but one thing’s for sure, it’s like the last piece of the puzzle has fallen into place. It’s right. It’s exactly what I am to her. She’s my little girl after all.

If it scares her, then I can wait. I’ll wait until she’s ready to call me just that. I’m not going anywhere.

“Daddy?” she whispers as she looks down on the floor. When she lifts her eyes back to me, her bottom lip trembles, skin slightly flushing, smile slowly building. “I like it.”

Without another word, she runs upstairs to change while I sit on the sofa, hands interlocked and elbows resting on my knees. My heart pounds wildly against my ribcage, and my member stands at attention.

Tonight, I’ll stake my claim.

* * *

Callieand I walk hand in hand toward the dock. I wanted to carry her all the way to my private yacht, but she insisted on walking on her heels. How she does it without tripping is beyond me. Must be some powers I don’t know about.

She’s wearing a flowing, navy blue dress with thin straps, which is perfect because it’s gonna be easy to take off her.

I’m still staring unashamedly at her when she sucks in a quick breath, hand flying to her mouth. She gives a small yelp, looking like a kid in a candy shop. “We’re having dinner here?”

“Yes. Dinner and later, dessert,” I tell her, my tone leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Her head whips to me and she starts to say something but, at the last minute, changes her mind and shakes her head. “Let’s go.”

We step onboard, music filling the air. The team did a great job decorating it. I had no idea what instructions to give them as I had never done anything remotely close to this before. I just told them to do the best they could to impress my little girl.

The desk has these twinkling lights and some candles in glass cases on the floor. I sure hope they know what they’re doing because the last thing I need is for the yacht to catch fire while I’m ball’s deep inside of her.

I pull out her chair for her, and as she settles down, I lightly bite her earlobe and whisper, “Do you like it?”

Tiny hairs rise on her neck and she has to clear her throat. “I-I do. I love it.”

“Anything for you, baby girl.”

The yacht begins to sail smoothly and Callie smiles and listens attentively at the chef, who delights her with stories about the dishes he prepared. Good thing he’s past sixty years old, is balding, has half a dozen grandkids, happily married to his wife of forty years, and has worked for me for half a decade. Otherwise, I won’t think twice about firing him on the spot and flinging him to the sea for even talking to her like that.

The soft music stops, and there’s a bit of commotion behind Callie. She turns to look and finds a singer and her guitarist prepping on the mini-stage.

The singer smiles at her and says, “Hope you have a lovely night, Callie and Mr. Callahan.”

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