Page 6 of Daddy's Lesson

She nodded slowly, but I wasn’t done speaking. “Let me be very clear. Archer may have been in the right place to accept a half-assed arrangement. I am not. If we do this, we do it right.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t know what you mean.”

She huffed out a breath, looking pensive, but in my mind she was just trying to control the situation. It would have been too easy for her to do that. I couldn’t let it happen.

“Eat your muffin,” I repeated. “Then if you want to find out what I mean, stand up and take my hand. If you don’t, walk out the door.”

Waiting for her to finish that latte and muffin was the longest ten minutes of my life. Okay, it was more like twelve minutes and thirty-seven seconds. I counted. I was probably holding my breath when she stood, and even though I’d done my best to come off as confident and assured, I didn’t really feel that way. I pretty much expected her to thank me for the latte and the muffin, then leave.

But that’s not what happened. Instead, she took a step toward me and slipped her hand in mine.

CHAPTER 2

ZOE

This was wrong. It was totally wrong and awkward and crazy, and I was pretty sure I ought to be committed, but I couldn’t not do it. I had to know what he meant. I had to see how he’d changed. I needed to know if he could actually change me.

Aside from all of those thoughts and curiosities, there was the way Lennon looked at me. He really looked, and when I spoke, he listened. But it wasn’t just that he made me feel seen and heard for the first time in ages, though that would have been enough.

Whenever he thought I wasn’t looking, though, I caught him leering. In a sexy way, not an obnoxious, predatory way. He would look at me like I was a precious flower, a present waiting to be unwrapped, and like he wanted to devour me. It had been so long since anyone, even my own husband, now ex-husband, had looked at me like that, but it was unforgettable. So was the way it made me feel. I really had no choice but to see this through, then. Because even though he was a former student, a good fifteen years my junior, and every ounce of propriety in my veins was protesting, Lennon was making me feel like a woman.

And I wanted it.

So I did it. I slipped my hand in his. He glanced up, and his surprise was evident, but he stood, too, slung his messenger bag over his shoulder and led me out the door.

“Your place or mine?” he asked once we were outside away from the prying eyes of other café patrons.

My mouth fell open. I hadn’t thought that far. Going to his place seemed so intimate, almost dirty, surely too presumptuous, but inviting him to mine somehow seemed like all that and more. “Yours,” I finally squeaked. “How are we getting there? I drove here.”

“As did I.” He frowned. “We can take your car. I’ll grab a cab to pick mine up later. Or we can go in both and meet there. Can I trust you to not change your mind and run?”

There was something about the way he asked the question, like he was truly afraid that would happen and it was the worst thing he could imagine.

Truthfully, the instinct to run was still at the forefront of my brain, so I could understand why he was worried. “Give me your address,” I said finally, handing him my phone.

He programmed it in, and I got into my car, sitting there while I watched him get into his. Mine was a beat-up Kia Sorrento that had seen better days. His was an Audi A8 sedan. I waited for him to pull out of the lot, then slowly followed.

The drive to his apartment building, [on the top floor of a downtown skyscraper], took less than ten minutes, and he was waiting for me at the front, chit-chatting with the doorman when I arrived.

“And here she is,” he said when I walked up, flashing me a dazzling smile. He offered his arm, and I slid mine through it. “Shall we?”

The doorman held the door for us, and we rode the elevator to the top floor of what was probably one of the ritziest buildings in Philly. I vaguely remembered something about Lennon and his friends winning the lottery during their last week of college.

My heart pounded in my chest, so loudly I couldn’t hear anything else, as Lennon guided me to a door at the end of the hall. I watched him as he unlocked it, and swept his arm as if to say, “Ladies first.”

I stepped through the doorway and immediately felt guilty for all the thoughts I’d had about Lennon wasting his talent. He clearly wasn’t wasting it; he just wasn’t showcasing it. Some might argue those were one and the same, but that wasn’t my opinion.

“Wow,” I breathed.

His apartment didn’t match the ritzy snootiness of the building. Bright murals covered the walls. Built-in shelves boasted an array of interesting pieces from all over the world, and his furniture was bright and eclectic—a stark contrast to my prim-and- proper neutral palette, and I was instantly jealous.

“Wow,” I breathed. “It’s?—”

“A little crazy, I know.”

“No!” I shook my head emphatically. “It’s amazing.” I turned to face him, and was surprised to see his eyes light up and a faint blush of pleasure brighten his cheeks. His smile spread across his face, highlighting his deep dimples.

“Thank you. Can I take your coat?”