“Really?”
“Fine,” I growl. After yanking my keys out of my front pocket, I click on the key fob and wait for the door to unlock. Then, I open the back door and lean against the car frame. “Randy is a jerk. I should have broken up with him after our sophomore year, but he was my first, and he used to treat me decent.”
“Yeah, because your dad and stepdad have a shit ton of money. That’s the only reason he’s been up your ass since our freshman year. His dick has been on high alert since the first time he heard your name in Principles of Microeconomics.”
Fuck. It’s humiliating to hear the unvarnished truth. My knees wobble, and I lay my head on the doorway of the car. Is the only reason Randy dated me because of money? As my eyelids flutter shut, tears pool against my eyelashes.
Crap. Why do I care? Randy always said I was frigid. He complained all the time that I didn’t want to have sex. But it wasn’t any good. I’ve never even had an orgasm. At least, I don’t think I ever did.
And all that grunting and groping. Yuck. I gag. Nothing about sex is appealing. The last time we’d been intimate was three months ago, and I’d ran to the bathroom afterward and scrubbed his touch off.
“Quit crying over him. He’s an asshole.”
I sniff. “I’m not crying over him. I’m crying because I hate sex, and no one is ever going to want me for me. All anyone will ever care about is money and my family connections.” I smack my forehead against the metal.
“Quit being dramatic. You’re ridiculous. The reason you hate sex is because Randy is repulsive. Now, go hit the bar, get laid by a real man, and be ready to come back here on Monday and tell the jackass to get lost.”
The image of Damon Macklin flashes through my mind. How would Mr. Five O’clock Shadow feel pressed against my body? Would he be hard and demanding or soft and gentle? The sensitive flesh between my thighs clenches. Whoa. Like that’s going to happen. I’m young enough to be his daughter.
Damon
After ensuring everything is set for my daughter’s rehearsal dinner, I leave the front desk and catch a glimpse of the dark-haired beauty I’d spoken to minutes before. She’s pushing a luggage rack with the bag she’d carried and two suitcases. Her hair is loose, and it shines under the lights of the chandeliers.
She has on a pair of faded blue jeans that mold to her ass, a tight t-shirt that stretches over her perky tits, and a strappy pair of sandals. Across her foot is some type of ink design that I couldn’t make out. I hadn’t wanted to be a total skeeve and stare at her feet.
For a moment, I consider offering to help her to her room, but I’m not here to lust after a girl that’s my daughter’s age. I’m here to give away my oldest child’s hand in marriage and avoid my ex-wife like the plague. Because Brandi Macklin, Yates, Brogan, Donaldson is a fucking train wreck waiting to happen.
“Dad!”
At the sound of my daughter’s voice, I forget the cute pixy. Hell. I’ll never see her again. Damn it, I’m still thinking about her.
“Hey, beautiful.” My eyes sweep over my little girl. The angel I’ve raised all on my own since she was two years old. She’s as gorgeous today as she was when she was born.
Karissa jogs across the lobby wearing an oversized professional football jersey, black leggings, and matching knee-high boots. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
I hold out my arms and envelop her into my embrace. After this weekend, my baby will be another man’s wife. Shit. I’m not going to cry. I’m not a fucking pussy.
At twenty, I’d wanted her to wait, but she’s been in love with Decker Phillips half of her life, and he’s a great guy. If I could have chosen her husband, I would have picked Decker. Granted, it would have been five or ten years from now.
“I was talking with the manager, making sure everything is on point for tonight.” I pat her back and lean back.
The sensation of someone staring at me crawls across my skin. I twist around and see Dalilah frowning at the two of us. When she catches me looking at her, she flushes and jerks her attention away.
“Is everything ready?” Karissa’s face scrunches, and deep lines pucker on her forehead.
“Yes, everything is set. You don’t need to worry about a thing.” What would it feel like to kiss Dalilah’s plump lips? Heaven? I haven’t been to heaven in years. Fuck. Scratch that. I’ve never even been to heaven. For shit’s sake, why am I still thinking about her?
I was lucky to have experienced the equivalent of a quick, cheap trip to Vegas fuck versus mind-blowing sex. Being saddled with a deadbeat ex-wife that burnt out the minute she gave birth to our second child, doesn’t give a guy many opportunities to find ‘The One.’ I was too busy changing diapers, cleaning vomit, reading stories, learning common core math, and losing my mind.
But now, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. My daughter is twenty and getting married, and my son is eighteen, and in his freshman year of college. Maybe it’s time to taste a little paradise.
“Good. I’m glad everything’s ready. I want this weekend to be perfect.”
“It will be.”
She grabs my forearms and practically vibrates with excitement. “Thank you for doing everything. You’re the best dad ever.”
“You’re welcome. Nothing could ever be too good for my daughter.”
Her face flushes, and she shifts her feet. “Umm?”
She gapes up at me with puppy dog eyes. Oh shit. Here it comes. I have no idea what she’s going to ask for, but I’ve seen that look thousands of times before. It’s how we ended up with two dollhouses, a dog, and a horse at a stable outside of town.
I clear my throat and steady my back and shoulders. I’m tough. “What?”
“Have you seen Mom?”
“No.” Oh, fuck no. Bile rises in my throat. Not this again. Every time my ex-wife divorces another husband, and this makes number three after me, Karissa gets a wild hair up her ass that Brandi and I should ‘talk.’
Which is a euphemism for ripping my shirt open and having her slice my chest open with the edge of a rusted paper cutter. Those things with the giant handles and footlong blades. Not going to happen.
“Well, she’s looking for you. I really think this would be an awesome opportunity for the two of you to talk and catch up.” She tilts her head to the side and bats her eyelashes.
Over my dead corpse. “Sure, honey. I’m positive we’ll have a moment some time this weekend to chat.”
“Oh, that’s great, Daddy. That would make me so happy.” She grins at me and drops her hands to her sides.
Daddy? I fight not to roll my eyes. Just because I’m a damn pushover for my kids doesn’t mean I’m a dumbass. I cross my arms. Time to change the subject. “Is Decker’s family here?”
“Yes. They all made it in this afternoon.” She brushes a strand of dark hair over her shoulder. Her oval face is devoid of make-up, but she doesn’t need it. The snarky girls in high school had hated her complexion. “The only person whose flight isn’t in yet is Aimee. She couldn’t get off work until noon. Her flight arrives at three o’clock.”
“Excellent.” I nod. Aimee Pitman has been Karissa’s best friend since kindergarten and would be her maid of honor.