Dad’s Policeman Friend by Lena Little
8
Caden
“Imade you scrambled eggs and bacon with a black coffee. That’s what you like, right?”
“I like you,” I say, grabbing Camila as I walk through her front door, moving toward the kitchen counter and sitting her there.
“And I think I’d rather have my dessert first.”
My lips come down hard on hers, but she pushes me away. “Caden, I want this as much as you do, but you haven’t slept in what…thirty-six hours?”
“Par for the course in my line of work.”
“Let’s get some food in your stomach and maybe a nap so we can enjoy this and not feel rushed.”
“Believe me, the only thing I need to eat is sitting in front of me right now.”
“You’re bad,” she teases, reaching for a spatula and slapping me with it.
I lift her up and set her feet on the floor, moving to the plate she has set for me.
Normally I grab something at the station. Hell, we’re likely to order Chinese food for breakfast, which isn’t so odd when you figure breakfast is more like dinner, considering we’re coming off a night shift.
Years and years of eating food out of Styrofoam boxes and plastic containers of leftovers from the fridge, and now I come home to the woman of my dreams and a hot meal?
But it’s not my home. It’s my best friend’s.
I shelve that unusual piece of information and stare at the perfectly presented food in front of me, breathing in deeply to catch the scent of Camila’s incredible handiwork.
Taking one bite, I close my eyes and inhale again.
“You like it?”
“If you made it, I love it.”
She wraps her arms around me from behind and I get to work devouring her creation.
Not three minutes later and I’ve wolfed down enough calories to sustain a small village.
“Ready for your nap?” she asks.
“We can lie down, but I’m not so sure we’ll be sleeping.”
She gives me a wink and I scoop her up and carry her to the couch. My lips are on hers instantly, my hands pawing at her top, her small breasts underneath my touch.
“Caden,” she says on an exhale.
“Say it again.”
“Caden.” The way it rolls from her lips sounds like angels singing…because she is my angel.
“As much as I like it maybe there’s something else you want to call me.”
My hand slides around her backside and I palm her ass, getting on top of her as I kiss across her collarbone.
“Daddy,” she whimpers.
“Louder.”
“Daddy.”
My already hard dick turns to molten steel as I bring her hand to my pants and she takes it the rest of the way, sliding it down the front.
“Dad!” she yells again.
“It’s Daddy, not dad.”
“No! My dad,” she grits out, putting her hands on my chest and pushing me, but I don’t budge. It’s only then I hear the sound of keys in the front door and I roll off her like I’m on fire, jumping to my feet and running to the door just as Chris enters.
“Oh. Hey. What’s up, man?”
He gives me an urban handshake and then looks over my shoulder where his daughter runs her hand over her top one last time. “Dad!” she says, taking off running toward him and wrapping him up in a big hug, spinning him one hundred and eighty degrees so she can look at me.
Both of our eyes are wide as we simultaneously exhale hard. I run the back of my hand over my brow and turn, looking at the floor and pace a quick second.
“Didn’t expect to see you here, bud. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just swung by after work to check up on Camila.”
“Thanks,” he replies, but his tone is flat. His eyes survey the house at rapid speed. “Thought I could surprise you for breakfast but looks like you already ate.”
A beat passes and then Camila pipes up with, “I’m starving. Let’s go somewhere.”
“Starving? Looks like you just ate enough to feed a horse.”
Chris releases Camila from his grasp and moves toward the kitchen, taking inventory of what was consumed. He opens the fridge. “There was a new pack of eggs in there. All twelve are gone?” He tries to say it nonchalantly, but his timing is off and it’s clearly accusatory.
“I was hungry, and I don’t have much money,” she responds.
“Fair enough,” he says, moving back into the living room and slapping me on the back…a little harder than normal. “You wanna join us for breakfast?”
“Nah, I’m knackered, man. I best get home and get to sleep.”
“Come on. It will only take an hour or two. There’s a new spot that opened I want to show you. They’ve got bacon and eggs and black coffee.”
So much for subtly after he just looked at everything that I finished eating.
“Sure, why not,” I agree, realizing the only way to get around this is to defer to his wishes. Deferring isn’t my m.o., but in this case, I need to adapt, adjust, and overcome.
“Great.” Chris puts his hand on my neck, reaching up to do so, and then more or less tries to guide me to the door.
He’s suspicious, no doubt about it.
I need to put his worries at ease…without tipping him off about the romance that is more than budding…right in his very house.
She’s mine, there’s no going back. That’s the truth, but is he ready for it right now?
Not a chance…and therein lies my problem.
“So, what have you been up to?” he asks, his eyes locked on mine for any sign of wavering as we walk out the door.
“Just work,” I reply, leaving out what kind of work I’m referring to. Right now my only job, my only mission in life, is to get his daughter pregnant.
And make her undisputedly mine in the process…forever.
