Page 43 of Daddy's Lesson

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Page 43 of Daddy's Lesson

His skin was still warm from the hot shower, the mint of his soap lingered in the air between us, and as I inhaled a deep, sleepy sigh I thought I smelled just a hint of a familiar scent I couldn’t seem to name.

CHAPTER 12

ZOE

Despite the fact that I’d gone to bed earlier than I was used to, I awoke much later than usual, with Lennon’s arms wrapped tightly around my waist, holding me close.

“Daddy,” I whispered, turning to face him.

“Hmmm?” His answer was a sleepy mutter; his eyes were still closed.

“Let me up.” I could have stayed wrapped in his embrace all morning and well into the day, but I was an old lady and nature was calling.

“No way,” Lennon murmured, his head rolling to rest in the dip of my decolletage. “I’ve got you right where I want you.”

“I have to pee,” I informed him.

“Oh, fine.”

He loosened his grip and I rolled out of his embrace, padding off to the restroom. When I was finished, I brushed my teeth and fluffed my hair with my fingers, pinching my cheeks to give them that natural rosy glow. I was tempted to swipe mascara or dab on some lipstick to keep Lennon from seeing me in the au naturel morning state my ex never appreciated, but I reminded myself that Lennon was not Albert, and rejoined him in bed.

At least, I tried to. That had been the plan, but when I came back to the bedroom Lennon wasn’t there and the bed was empty.

Odd, but not a big deal. Intent on finding him, I shrugged on a cozy robe and slid my feet into the matching slippers.

I found him at the front door, holding it open with one foot while wrestling with a classroom-sized blackboard on wheels, and watched with a confused frown as he pulled it inside and set it up in a corner of the living room.

He waited a beat, cocked his head as if listening for something, and pulled the door open again, this time returning with two coffees and a bag from the bakery down the street.

He handed me one of the drinks and strolled into the kitchen where he put a blueberry crumble muffin on a plate, zapped it in the microwave, and served it to me in my breakfast nook before opening the bag again and pulling out an onion bagel and a cream cheese packet. He made up his own much healthier plate and slid into the nook across from me.

“Thank you for breakfast, but what’s with all the deliveries this morning?”

Lennon shrugged. “Just a few things we needed.”

“Hmmm,” I hummed, sipping the cappuccino and picking off a chunk of muffin before popping it in my mouth. “I don’t know if that’s true. My hips certainly didn’t need this muffin,” I said, looking down ruefully. “A minute on the lips, forever on the hips.” I raised my brows and perfected a fake glare aimed in his direction. “I notice your own breakfast is much healthier.”

Lennon shrugged. “I’ll trade, if you want. I like bagels. I don’t know you well enough yet to know your breakfast food of choice, but I do know at our first meeting in the cafe you ordered a cappuccino and a blueberry crumble muffin.”

I stared at him, swallowing around the lump in my throat. Of course, I hadn’t remembered what I’d ordered at that first meeting. I’d been too nervous to taste it, but he had remembered. Maybe I’d been in a loveless, neglectful marriage for too long, but that choked me up inside.

I managed a smile around the tears threatening to spill. “This is perfect. I love it. I can’t have it every day, though.”

“We can eat healthy tomorrow,” he promised, taking the last bite of his bagel and chewing while I did the same.

The sweetness of his breakfast gesture had almost distracted me from the strangeness of his other delivery, but as we stood from the table, I remembered. “What's with the blackboard?”

Lennon smiled, the smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and showed off his dimples. “I told you. The student is becoming the teacher.”

He took my hand and guided me into the living room where the blackboard stood tall, dwarfing the room.

“You did say that,” I agreed, choking back laughter. “I just didn't expect you to mean it quite so literally, and I certainly didn’t expect there to be a blackboard involved.”

Lennon just grinned and led me to the couch.

When I sat, he crossed the room and stood next to the board, grabbing a piece of chalk from a box on the bottom lip.

“Lesson #1”, he wrote at the top.




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