Page 31 of Daddy's Claim

I opened my mouth, fully prepared to launch into an explanation of how I hadn’t had time to call anybody, because I was busy fixinghisfucking security system, but I hesitated.

The truth was, it hadn’t occurred to me to call her. I assumed Cole had told her I’d be late, but even if he had, I still should have called. Because, as much as it pissed me off to admit it, Cole had a point. A five-minute call could have saved us both a lot of heartache last night.

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“You and Adele have that in common.”

“Smug bastard.”

“Dumbass.”

We finished our meal in companionable silence, my mind alternatively checking off what still needed to be done as far as the security systems went and thinking up all the ways I could apologize to my sexy little wife.

I was still contemplating the best options for an apology when laughter rang out in the hallway. A moment later, Adele and Nora rounded the corner, giggling over some shared secret as though they’d been best friends for years.

“You two seem to be getting along better,” Cole remarked, rising to his feet to greet his wife with a passionate kiss, as if he hadn’t just left their bed.

“Dell was telling me about your time in Paris.” Mischief sparkled in Nora’s dark eyes, making my palms itch. Not to spank her, for once, but just to touch her.

Since I couldn’t see any logical reason not to indulge myself, I grabbed her hand and tugged her down to sit on my lap.

“What are you doing?” she asked, sounding more amused than annoyed by her position.

“Holding my wife.” Leaning in, I sniffed at her neck. “You smell delicious. Like a bakery.”

“It’s just my body wash, you weirdo. Vanilla sugar.”

“Well, you smell good enough to eat.” Which made it all the more frustrating that I couldn’t simply stay home and do exactly that. “And good little girls don’t call their Daddies names.”

I was fairly certain she rolled her eyes at me, but since I couldn’t actually see her face, I didn’t push the issue. Two additional plates were brought out for them, along with two more cups of coffee.

“What? No snails?”

Before I could ask what the hell Nora was talking about, she and Adele burst out laughing again. I glanced over at Cole, expecting to find him looking as lost as I felt, but he was glaring at Adele.

“I can’t believe you told her that.”

“It is a funny story,” Adele said with a shrug. “Nora and I were lamenting the lack of decent pastries in this house, and she mentioned how much she loved the breakfasts in Paris during her trip last summer. How was I to resist?”

“What the hell did I miss?” Obviously, everyone was in on the joke but me, and I didn’t particularly care for it.

“There is a pastry back home, that is simply bread with raisins, coiled in the form of a shell. It is affectionately referred to asescargot.” Adele sent her husband a playful grin. “Poor Cole was convinced we were having actualescargotfor breakfast.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” Looking as put out as I’d ever seen him, Cole jabbed a finger in her direction. “You knew what you were doing, you little brat.”

“I did,” she admitted with an uncharacteristic giggle. “But it is not my fault. You Americans are so gullible.”

“That’s it.” Pushing to his feet again, Cole bent and plucked Adele from her chair, draping her over his shoulder as her shouts of protest echoed around the dining room. “We’ll meet you in the hall in an hour, Mikey.”

The familiar sound of a palm meeting a naughty bottom reached us, followed by a shriek of outrage and I couldn’t help but laugh. On my lap, Nora wiggled, obviously expecting to be let loose, but I simply reached over and pulled her plate in front of us. “Eat, princess.”

She sighed but didn’t argue for once. “Are you going out again today?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Cole wants Adele to have a look at things, see if she can find anything we missed. She… has an eye for these things.” It hadn’t occurred to me until right then that Nora probably had no idea about Adele’s life before she’d become Mrs. Cole Porter, and even though I was loath to lie toher, it wasn’t my secret to tell. “We shouldn’t be home too late, though.”

“You mean Adele used to be a cop and she knows how to process a crime scene.”

I froze with a piece of bacon halfway to my lips. “Who told you that?”