“Amelia Flores. Twenty-five. License says she’s from Mesa, Arizona. Here until Sunday. And she has one of our event rooms booked for a bachelorette party tomorrow night.”
My breath caught in my throat, and I was grateful I’d already pulled into my garage and put the car in park. The thought that she might be engaged put a sour taste in my mouth and made me want to find her fiancé and bury him somewhere no one would ever find the body. It would mean she was off-limits. Then the thought that she wasn’t married yet crept into my mind, and I knew I’d fight for her.
Knox must have picked up on my train of thought by my silence. “I don’t think she’s the bride. Most of the activities they have planned are booked in her name.”
“How do you figure?” I asked, confused at his conclusion from the evidence at hand.
There was some murmuring and rustling on the other end of the phone before a female voice came over the line. “The bride doesn’t plan her own bachelorette party, Zack,” Knox’s wife, Addilyn, explained. “That’s usually the job of the maid of honor.”
Relief eased the tension in my body, and I exhaled slowly. “Thanks, Addilyn.”
“Sure!” she chirped.
A second later, Knox was back. “You serious about this girl?” he queried.
“Absolutely. Never been more certain of anything in my life.” Now I just had to figure out a way to find her and get her alone so I could convince her that we belonged together.
“Have the VIP party room at your restaurant open tomorrow night,” he instructed, reading my mind again. “I’ll talk to Drew, and we’ll find an excuse to have her event moved to The Crescent Moon.”
I grinned stupidly and was glad he couldn’t see my expression because I’d never hear the end of it. “I owe you,” I told him sincerely.
“Yes, you do.”
It didn’t matter what he wanted. I would give him anything for the chance to get my girl.
Satisfied with the plan, I got out of my Maserati and entered the mudroom at the back of the house. I inhaled the rich aroma of meatloaf, and my mouth watered. I never took for granted how fucking lucky I was that my daughter loved to cook and was great at it.
Delia was at the sink, washing a dish when I walked in, and I went right over to kiss the top of her head. “Hey, jellybean,” I greeted.
She looked up at me with a bright smile that never ceased to make my world a happier place. “Hi, Daddy.”
“How was your day?” I asked as I shuffled over to the stove and practically drooled at the delicious food cooling there. My hand stretched toward the mashed potatoes, intending to scoop some with my finger for a taste when a spatula came down on top of it. “Ouch,” I yelped as I snatched back my stinging hand.
“Were you raised in a barn?” Delia snapped, her eyes dancing with humor. “Now, go set the table.”
I laughed and gave her a quick hug. “Yes, ma’am!” Then I did as she asked.
While we were seated at the table, digging into our meal, we chatted about our day. I always looked forward to this part of the day. Though our schedules didn’t allow us to sit down together every night, we did it as often as we could. It had always been just the two of us, and we had no secrets from each other.
This reminder had me broaching a subject with Delia that I’d managed to avoid in her life, so far... The dating talk. I hadn’t really been on a date since she was born, and casual sex wasn’t appealing to me, so there’d been no one even to consider bringing home. Despite my jellybean’s sweet and sunny personality—other than when she was being a diva teenager, which wasn’t often—I wasn’t sure how she’d take having another woman around to share my attention with. It was almost enough to keep my mouth shut. However, I wouldn’t jeopardize our relationship by keeping secrets now.
“How would you feel if I started dating?” I asked nonchalantly.
Delia sat ramrod straight and stared at me in disbelief. My heart sank. “Seriously, Dad? It’s about time! I was freaking out about going off to college and leaving you all by yourself. I was starting to think you were going to die all alone as a crotchety old man!”
My mouth opened and closed a few times as I processed her response. “First of all, why would you think I’d be a crotchety old man?” I groused. “Second, why are you already planning my death, and where the hell will you be when I take my last breath?” I glared at her, and she pointed her fork at me.
“See? Crotchety.” She winked at me, and I pursed my lips to keep from smiling. “And, of course, I’ll be there when you kick the bucket.” I raised a brow, and she just smiled innocently. “I was referring to your lack of companionship in your old age.”
Delia’s expression turned serious, and she reached across the table to take my hand. “Really, Daddy. I just want you to be happy, and you need someone besides your daughter to share your life with. You’re amazing. I’m not gonna lie, I’ve loved having you all to myself for seventeen years, but sometimes, I felt guilty wondering if you weren’t dating just because of me.”
I shook my head and was about to interrupt when she waved me off and kept talking. “Over the years, I noticed how your eyes never looked at women with any interest”—she grinned and tilted her head to the side—“or guys. And I did wonder.” I laughed, and she shrugged. “It was a logical assumption, considering your lack of enthusiasm for female companionship.”
I couldn’t fault her logic.
“Anyway, I eventually accepted I wasn’t holding you back, and that you just hadn’t found anyone worthy of your attention.” I nodded at her correct assessment of the situation. Then thoughts of my mystery woman filtered in and how she’d immediately brought to life feelings and physical needs that I’d thought were dead. Delia’s lips slid into a sly smile as she studied me. “Does this mean someone’s caught your eye?”
I grinned and released her hand to sit back in my seat and resume eating. “Possibly.”
Delia squealed with delight and bounced in her seat, making me chuckle. “Is she hot? Is this a relationship kind of thing or just sex?” She mock-gasped, “Have you slept with her already? You seem awfully chipper today.”
I shifted uncomfortably. No secrets were one thing, but I wasn’t a progressive enough dad to discuss my sex life with my teenage daughter. So I cleared my throat and gave her a basic answer. “Yes, it’s serious.”
“That’s awesome, Daddy,” she gushed. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
The thought of my two girls meeting and growing close brought a smile to my face. For a moment, I did wonder if my beauty would have an issue with my being a single dad of a teenage daughter. But I’d cross that bridge when I came to it. First, I had to get my hands on her and convince her that we belonged together. Once I made her fall in love with me, she wouldn’t care that I came as a packaged deal. She’d be too busy screaming from the persuasive tactics of my mouth, fingers, and cock.
3
Amelia
“Hello, Miss Flores. This is Drew Lennox.”