Protector Daddy by Taryn Quinn

EIGHT

I retreatedto my apartment after I met with Chief Brooks, which had been embarrassing on a scale I still hadn’t recovered from. I’d blushed the entire time, I was sure.

Here, the guy was supposed to be my new boss—maybe—and our first lengthy conversation had been about if I’d felt “pressured” in any way to do something inappropriate while on public property.

The only pressure I’d felt was the one between my legs, and Christian hadn’t unduly influenced me there either. He couldn’t help that he was so big and brawny and fucked like a stallion who’d been out to pasture for far too long, so he had a lot of urgency built up. I’d reaped the benefits there.

And how.

I thanked all my lucky stars I had the next three days off from the bakery—Tabitha had tacked on an extra one so I could “let the heat cool down”—and I intended to just sit in my new apartment with the shades drawn while binging whatever struck my fancy on HBO Max and eating all the junk food I could manage.

I didn’t check my phone. I knew people were calling or texting. I was just taking a mini vacay from life to regroup. To try to stop feeling so sensitive about Mav and Van’s elopement and the entire town chatting about my business. And Christian’s business. And speculating things I didn’t want to imagine.

God, why hadn’t I worked on de-escalating the situation instead of what I’d done? Granted, I was still riding an emotional rollercoaster after being left out of Mav’s wedding and true, I wasn’t used to anyone caring who I slept with, but still, the fail whale on my part was epic.

Meeting with Jared to talk about “town scuttlebutt” had made me seriously rethink everything. Not the sex—I had no regrets there, although the timing could’ve used some work. But I wasn’t used to rushing into things and maybe this enforced timeout—or hideout—was for the best.

I didn’t want to dive into anything too fast. Or any faster than I already had.

I really wanted that Dispatcher job. I’d told myself maybe it wasn’t meant to be, but why? So Christian and I had slept together. So what? We were mature adults. There was absolutely no reason we couldn’t be mature about this and part as friends if more wasn’t meant to be.

Christian was such a serious, stern guy. I was a bottle of champagne with too many bubbles half the time. Too excitable, too fickle, too changeable. Why I’d ditched my major then dropped out of school entirely. What I wanted today I might be over by next week. It was just who I was.

Better not to screw up a good job for a man who wouldn’t last in any case.

I’d give it a few more days before I called Chief Brooks and told him I would take the job. Unless I changed my mind again.

But one thing was clear. Christian and I were total opposites. Compatibility while naked wasn’t enough to change that.

Resolute in my decision, I curled up on my sofa and binged every rom com I could find. Ordered pizza from Robbie T’s for dinner and made myself a towering hot fudge sundae for dessert. Stayed up too late and slept in past noon for the next three days.

It was gloriously decadent. At least until Stacey Hardwick texted me—and I made the mistake of reading it—that Christian Masterson said he had no interest in wifing me, so she hoped I hadn’t “gotten my hopes up.”

Wifing me? What was that all about?

I wasn’t going to engage with the town gossip machine again. I’d already made enough of a mess of things at The Spinning Wheel. Another day or so and talk would begin to die down.

It had to.

The text I’d read had been from Tuesday. Now it was Thursday. Tomorrow I had my usual morning shift at the bakery. I would walk in with my head held high and refuse to entertain chitchat about my personal life.

In the meantime, I slept half the day away, made myself a dinner of chicken stirfry with double cashews, and continued to watch whatever struck my fancy.

Maybe I didn’t need another job. Tabitha loved me. She’d give me more hours as needed and then I could avoid working with my brothers and Christian. Not a bad plan.

Sure, for a coward.

“Ugh.” I grabbed one of my couch pillows and pulled it over my face. I needed to talk to Mickey. She could guide me. As much as I wanted to hide out here forever, I had to face reality eventually. I couldn’t just hit the pause button until I figured out how to handle what I’d done.

What I wanted to do again.

And again.

I grabbed my phone and winced as I finally faced the full list of texts I’d been ignoring.

Every member of my immediate family had texted, including spouses. Mickey. A few casual acquaintances like Stacey from college and Michelle from the bakery. Other friends from through the years. Random neighbors.

Christian had texted a couple times Tuesday around lunchtime then not again. Probably around when The Spinning Wheel crapola had hit the fan.

While I was staring at my phone under the guise of checking to see if my latest pizza was on the way, my last hiding out hurrah, Mickey called.

With a sigh, I accepted the call.

She shrieked in my ear. “Really? That’s how you treat your bestie when you have life-changing sex? Ignore her for half a week?”

I closed my eyes. “How do you know it was life-changing?”

That it had been was neither here nor there.

“Mrs. Gunderson told me.”

“Ugh, are you serious? That’s so hurtful.” I gripped my throat. “Look, I’m not really ready to talk about it—”

“You better be. You so better be. I’m on an afternoon shift at the bakery but soon as I get through making three dozen rush eclairs, I’m coming over and we are going to talk the talk. I want to hear positions and frequency and orgasms. I. Want. It. All. So prepare thyself. You owe me, sister.”

Mickey clicked off and I tossed my phone into the cushions before I dragged myself down the hall into the shower. I desperately needed one and if my bestie was coming over against my will, I needed to make myself presentable.

I was in the shower when my phone went off again with a generic ringtone. I’d just updated my phone and all my specific ringtones had defaulted for some reason.

Thinking it was Mickey, I grabbed it off the sink and started talking.

“Dude, I heard you. I’m in the damn shower. I got the message. Positions, Os, frequency. Just let me wash my damn hair first.”

“So you’ll see Mickey but not me. I see where I rank.”

I sagged against the wall, barely managing not to hiss as the spray hit me full in the face. “I see where I rank, since you don’t want to wife me. As if I want to be wifed.”

“Are you speaking English right now?”

I wrenched off the water. “Barely. Sorry. Forgot you were old.”

The sound he made verged on a growl that landed squarely between my thighs. “I wasn’t too old for you on Monday.”

“No, and you aren’t too old for me now, mainly because my lady garden is a horny cow and loves your dick.”

He was silent for a good thirty seconds while I shivered against the wall and wondered how my clit could be pounding just from words. My own, at that.

“You’re in the shower?”

All at once, I suspected he was about to prove his age wasn’t bad in any way—at least that led to orgasms. “Mickey’s coming over,” I said weakly.

“So I heard. What did you mean by that wifing thing? Break it down in middle age terms.”

“Stacey Hardwick said I shouldn’t get my hopes up about you because you didn’t want to make me your wife.”

“Is that a thing now? One night stand leads to marriage? Am I failing somehow because I didn’t immediately consider it?”

It was so ridiculous I couldn’t help laughing. Loudly. To the point I couldn’t stop until I was half collapsed against the wall in a fit of hysterics.

He gave me a couple minutes to collect myself. “Better now?”

“No. I’m not better. I’m a freaking wreck because I had such an amazing time with you even though it shouldn’t have made sense but it did. It made so much sense. We fit so well.”

His voice lowered as I heard him moving around. He was probably at work again. Probably hiding that he was on the phone. Subterfuge was the name of our game. “We do fit. As if we were made to. You fit me like a glove in so many ways.”

“Most sexual?”

“Can’t deny those ways are pretty damn spectacular. Or that I haven’t thought of sliding into your sweet pussy more times that I can count the last few days.”

I sucked in a shuddering breath. “Well, it’d been a while on that score.”

“Doesn’t matter. I could have been with someone an hour before and you’d still be in a category all your own.” He let out an uneven breath of his own. “But it’s not only about that with us. I swear, it’s not. I wanted to take you out.”

“Wanted?” I hated the uncertainty in my tone.

“Wanted. Want. And I didn’t tell anyone I didn’t want to wife you, whatever the hell that means. Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“Stacey asked me if you were angling to be the next Crescent Cove baby mama and I said absolutely not.”

“Angling? As if I tried to get you to knock me up?” I let out a dry laugh. “As if that’s even necessary around here. Pretty much as soon as sperm even goes anywhere near egg around here…” I trailed off, my horror growing. “You don’t think…”

“No,” he said sharply. “You don’t honestly believe all that hokum.”

“Uh, considering both my brothers have made unplanned babies this year, yeah, I kinda do.”

“Brady’s vasectomy didn’t work.”

“You heard about that?”

“Everyone heard about that. And Mav didn’t use a condom with a woman who wasn’t on birth control.”

I stuck my arm outside of the shower to grab my towel off the rack. I was pretty sure I hadn’t soaped every bit of myself, but it was going to have to do. At least I’d washed and rinsed my hair. “It’s really disconcerting how much people know about other people’s sex lives in this town.”

“They’re my colleagues and people talk. Get used to it. Only way to get around it is to never breathe a word about your past to anyone. That works. Only thing that does,” he added under his breath.

“So what haven’t you breathed a word about to anyone then?” I’d meant the question to be flippant, because he was talking a hell of a lot.

Not about secrets, true, but just in general—and I’d never seen him speak much at all.

Maybe there really was more between us than sex. I wasn’t sure how it could happen so fast, but connections happening in a New York minute was something else the Cove was known for. It had just never happened to me.

“If you really want to know, I’ll tell you. I’ve never told anyone.”

I swallowed hard. “Does it have anything to do with that flask?”

He took a moment to answer. “Yeah, but not the way you think. I had a difficult phone call. And instead of facing it, I grabbed the flask. Not something I’ve done before and I don’t intend to again. I walk the straight and narrow, Honey. Even when it’s fucking impossible.” He paused. “The only times I slipped…”

“When?”

“Seventeen years ago,” he said softly, “and Monday night.”

Shock wound through me on a slow, circuitous route. “Seventeen years ago, I was in second grade.”

“Thanks for that.”

“Just saying.”

“You’ve got a big mouth.”

“So shut me up. You’re good at that, aren’t you?”

“Time and place, baby girl. I’ll be there.”

My pulse raced as I chewed on my thumbnail. “Brothers Three Orchard, how’s six? They have a hayride. It’s one of the last weekends of the season.”

“You want to get railed in a horse-drawn wagon?”

“The idea has merit, but I’m not really an exhibitionist.” I rushed ahead when he made a sound of doubt. “Also, you didn’t specify railing. You just mentioned shutting me up. And those hayrides are in the dark so if we wait for a sparsely attended one and you pick the right seat, I could just kneel down and help you with your zipper.”

He started to speak then released a tormented groan. “I try to be good.”

“Where’s the fun in that? By the way, Mickey is going to torture me to get the deets about Halloween. I know I shouldn’t tell her. But she always has details and it’s been a lifetime since I’ve had anything worthy to share. Will you hate me if I give her a little taste? She’ll be completely jealous.”

“If you give me more than a little taste after, feel free.”

I wiped water droplets out of my eyes as I fought a grin. “Can I tell her your dick is the size of a Mack truck? I know you hate gossip.”

“That’s not gossip.”

“It isn’t?”

“Facts don’t fall under gossip. See you Friday night. I’ll pick you up at the bakery.”

He clicked off before I could reply.

I didn’t even know how he knew I’d be working. Spidey cop senses? I’d told him I usually worked mornings, but Friday night a couple extra employees had requested time off so I’d offered to work a double.

Maybe he’d asked Tabitha? Or my brothers? Though they weren’t up on my schedule usually. I wasn’t sure what they’d want him to know in any case.

But so much for figuring we were done. As much as I wanted that Dispatcher job, I wanted Christian more. Not even a contest. For a couple nights or a month or whatever way it turned out. He was worth the risk.

Of course, the best option of all would be to get both the man and the job.

Dream on, McNeill. Make your pick and fast because you only get one of the two.

Maybe.

By the time Mickey showed up, I was wearing a T-shirt and shorts and bundled into my thickest robe. I was making some of Christian’s Luna tea—that I’d picked up the other day after being embarrassed to death at the police station with Chief Brooks—because it made me think of Christian.

Not that I could stop at this point.

I was smiling dopily and stirring my tea when Mickey wandered over to smell it. “Tea? Are you sick?” She held a hand to my forehead. “Nope.”

“He made me tea the other night. I liked it.” I shrugged and sipped. “No big deal.”

“You aren’t a tea drinker.”

“So? I can try new things.”

“What’s gotten into you?” She flopped down on the sofa and grabbed a pillow, holding it against her stomach as a sly grin crossed her face. “Besides Christian’s dick, that is.”

I sat next to her and continued sipping.

“It couldn’t have been that good.”

“Oh, it is. It’s a St. John’s Wort blend with honey and jasmine.”

“You cow, I’m not talking about his frou-frou tea. Dude doesn’t even seem like he knows how to move his hips.”

I couldn’t help snorting. “Wrong. So wrong.”

“You’re glowing. I kind of hate you right now.” She kicked out at me before laughing. “I was going to ask if he has a brother. I know he does. The model dude. Though he’s got a kid, right?” She sighed. “So close to perfect.”

“He has another brother besides the model but a guy having a kid doesn’t knock him out of the running. It doesn’t have to,” I added when she made a face. “But Christian says he’s always on the move. Doesn’t spend a lot of time in one place.”

“That can be a good thing. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. Besides, there’s always Zoom sex.”

I tossed a pillow at her. “I’d rather have the real thing.”

“Sure, sure, rub it in.” Mickey cocked her head. “How did it happen? For real. You didn’t have any feelings for him before the interview, did you?”

Slowly, I shook my head. I didn’t quite understand what had happened either. I was just so glad it had. “I’ve never had a night like that before.” I tugged at a loose thread on one of the cushions. “He’s not like the guys we know, Mick. They’re all boys. Christian’s a full grown man.”

“So what are we talking? Ten inches here?”

I giggled. “I don’t mean like that. He’s a gentleman. He opens doors. He made me tea. Bandaged my sore foot. Then he gave me multiple orgasms and put me to bed in his bed.” I sighed. “He’s the kind of man it’s far too easy to fall in love with.”

“Okay, must be eleven.” Giggling, she ducked as I heaved the cushion at her head. “Twelve? I was sure that was a myth but the size of that dude…anything’s possible. Just his hands are enormous.”

“I will not confirm or deny. Just that he approved of me saying he’s built like a Mack truck.”

“If I didn’t love you, I’d hate you.”

I thought it over for a minute. “You know, I’ve never thought this before but if I wasn’t me, I’d be jealous of me too. Not because I’m so awesome. Just you know how if you go to an indie bookstore and you’re digging on a shelf and you find a first edition of your favorite book, even if you’ve never read it yet?”

She clutched my cushion to her chest. “I so do. Somehow. I think I spend too much time with you because that makes total sense to me. And no one else noticed the book was there except you?”

“Yeah. Like he’s so perfect. Not without flaws,” I added hurriedly. “Just perfect for me and my flaws. And somehow no one noticed him, just because he was a little further back on a shelf. So he sat there, waiting.”

“So you grabbed him up and now you’re going to ride the hell out of him.”

“Well, I already started on that score, but yeah.” I dropped back as she tossed my cushion at me.

“Figured as much since the whole town is jealous as hell. We all want that, you know? We want an ordinary Monday to somehow just become amazing and unexpected and life-changing. And that actually happened to you.”

“It did.” I bit my lip on a grin. “I considered trying to be sensible and just putting him back on the shelf. Because responsible Honey wouldn’t let herself be swept away.”

“Gag responsible Honey and tie her up in the broom closet.”

“I just might. You know, I thought I wanted to keep the details to myself but everything is more fun when I can share with you.”

“Damn straight.” She leaned forward and braced her chin on her hand. “So how many multiples are we talking here? Be specific.”

I just laughed.