Daddy, Sir (Dirty Daddies 2024 Anthology #6)

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Landon

Oxygen might be what kept us alive, but I damned the need to breathe because it meant pulling away from bliss. Her face was flushed, her eyes the softest green, the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. God, she was stunning. I was going back in for another taste when Fiona started laughing.

It wasn’t the type of nervous laughter one might expect after the frantic dance our tangled tongues had just performed either. Nor was it the shy little giggle of a woman who was surprised to find herself in the arms of the man she hadn’t kissed in a dozen years either. Nope, this was the sort of laughter that grew louder and louder and had me worried about hysteria. However, when a full-fledged snort was thrown in, I sat back on the seat.

“As badly as I think I might regret this, are you laughing because you think my kissing skills have so seriously deteriorated to the point of being repulsive?”

She shook her head, thick red curls framing her oval face. “Of c-course no-not,” she stammered. “I-I liked it… a-a lot.”

She could have fooled me, especially when I reached for her again and her hands came up to plant against my chest.

I don’t think anyone could question why I felt slightly affronted. “Your actions are saying otherwise, Fee.”

“I-I know.” She opened her mouth to speak again, but instead chose to take a couple of deep breaths which not only had her laughter erupting again, but had her cute little nose crinkle.

“Okay, I give.” I threw up my hands. “What is so damn funny?”

“You. Me. We. Stink.”

“What?”

It’s not like I hadn’t heard her. She’d made a point of speaking each word firmly and with a definite pause between them. That didn’t mean I understood what she was trying to say.

She gestured toward me, then herself. “Take a deep breath and tell me what you smell.”

“Is this a trick?”

Her eyes widened and she gave a single little snort. “What? You think I farted and am trying to pin it on you or something?”

Good grief. How had I forgotten how blunt this woman could be. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time that sort of prank had been played. She and Finn might have been natural-born twins, but within a few short days of my family moving into a house only a few streets over, our folks were teasing that we might as well have been triplets. Even our birthdays were only a couple of months apart. The three of us played and fought. We pulled pranks and while her eldest brothers gradually stopped tormenting Fiona, Finn and I made up for their lack, teasing her constantly. Evidently, those memories were playing through Fiona’s mind as well.

“Seriously, Landon, just do it, please?”

I dutifully inhaled deeply, almost instantly exhaling. “Shit, you’re right. We smell like a brewery.”

Fiona reached out and slapped my arm. “Have a little respect, you heathen, or you’ll have Pappy rolling over in his grave. Our aroma is the perfect blend of corn, barley, yeast and pure spring water, aged in oak barrels?—”

“In other words, we smell like a distillery,” I offered, the reek of bourbon definitely having me changing our dinner plans. “Seatbelt on.” I buckled mine and started the truck.

“What about dinner?” she asked as she looked out the windshield at the lights of the Thai restaurant I’d driven to.

“That’s why they invented Grub Hub.” I restarted the ignition and pulled out of the driveway I’d just pulled into. “We’ll order in. By the time we shower and change, dinner will be ready.”

An hour later, I opened the door and accepted the bags from the delivery guy with a heartfelt thanks. By the time I had the table set and the pot of green tea I’d brewed steeping, I heard the sound of her footsteps coming down the hall.

“Find everything okay?” I asked, looking up from the place setting I’d been arranging.

And just like that, the hunger I felt switched from food to the woman who was crossing the room wearing nothing but one of my white button-down dress shirts. Barefooted and hair turbaned in a towel did absolutely nothing to distract from how incredibly sexy she looked.

“Thanks for the shirt,” she said as she reached the table. Plucking the napkin I’d been about to tuck beside her plate from my hand, she slid into a chair. “If this tastes as delicious as it smells, I just might swoon.”

Hell, didn’t she know one didn’t need food to swoon?

“You joining me?”

Her question and that smirk told me she knew exactly why I was standing there with my tongue hanging halfway to the floor. Instead of answering, I lifted the top off the teapot to check its readiness.

“Still like tea with your Thai?”

“Oh, yes, very much. Thanks!”

I poured the hot liquid into a ceramic cup. “Though it makes me shudder to ask, do you still insist on lemon or sugar?”

“Both, please,” she said as she began spooning a pile of sticky rice onto my plate, then serving herself before moving to the spoon in the red-curry and chicken dish. “ Have you become a vegan, gluten-free, lactose intolerant, or anything I should be aware of?”

“Oh, I’m sure there are many things you should be aware of, but if we’re just talking foodwise, I’m as carnivorous as they come but still prefer my tea how it’s meant to be drunk—which is pure.” At the crinkling of her nose, I added, “You might want to give it a try.”

“I’m good, thanks. I suppose you still take your coffee black?”

“Of course.”

“That’s just tragic. You miss all those delicious flavor combinations.” She gave a little shake of her head and continued to place food on our plates as I slid into the chair opposite her.

I watched as she brought the teacup up to her mouth but didn’t sip. Instead, she inhaled deeply, the lids of her eyes closing. I was struck by the length of her lashes as they curled against her cheek. No mascara covered the copper color or weighed down what looked to be as soft as the gossamer wings of a butterfly. She didn’t wear a trace of makeup on her face. Strands of hair peeked out from the edges of the towel. If memory served me correctly, the last time I’d seen her, her hair had been just slightly past her shoulders. Now, the coppery curls were brushing against the seat of the chair.

“What? I’d ask if I had spinach in my teeth, but seeing as I have yet to eat anything, that seems unnecessary.”

Realizing I’d been staring, I didn’t bother to pretend otherwise. “I’ve just never seen anyone besides you who prefers to inhale their tea rather than drink it.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m a huge fan of swallowing.”

“Good to know,” I said without missing a beat.

Her eyes widened and her Irish heritage surged forth to stain her cheeks a bright red letting me know she’d been unaware of the double entendre. For some reason, I was glad to discover she wasn’t quite as brazen as I’d first thought. Not wishing to embarrass her, I mimicked her earlier moves, ladling some Tom Yum soup into a bowl, reaching across the table to set it in front of her.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

She nodded and I was treated to watching her fill her spoon and seeing her lips purse to blow gently across the broth. It wasn’t until her eyes closed again and she gave a soft sigh of appreciation that I realized her blushing wasn’t the only thing different. I waited until she opened her eyes to use her fork to push a bite of rice and red curry onto the spoon on her plate before speaking.

“This is nice,” I said.

“Yes, it’s delicious.”

“It is, but I’m not talking about the food.” My words drew her eyes to mine. “Well, not directly anyway. I mean when I think of having dinner with the Flanagans, I am far more accustomed to participating in what’s more of a snatch and grab complete with a few bruises from elbows cock…”

Holy fuck!

Fiona was visibly shaking with laughter. Thank god she’d had the sense to set her utensils down before she choked on a piece of shrimp.

In an attempt to salvage any smidgen of dignity, I said, “Fork! I swear to you I meant to say fork blocking.”

“I could ask if you think that makes us even, but what I’m going to ask instead is if you know what’s the best way to eat an elephant?”

Anyone else might have thought the woman was as nutty as a fruitcake, but I didn’t know her as only a woman. I knew her as a kid who’d had to be as smart as Einstein, as quick as an Olympic track star, and as clever as Sigmund Freud in order to be seen, much less have her opinion matter. So, if she wanted to ask a question, I’d try to answer it.

“With oversized silverware?”

She shook her head, then reached up to remove the towel when it began to slip sideways. Dropping it to the floor at her feet, I felt an instant rush of jealousy as she ran her fingers through the still damp curls. It took all I had inside me not to reach across the table, grab her and drag her into my lap so I could comb the tangles out myself.

“Okay, then how do you eat an elephant?” I asked instead.

“One bite at a time, of course.”

“Of course.” Agreeing didn’t mean I wasn’t just as confused as I’d been when the question was first asked. It only meant that a woman half my size could pin me to my chair without so much as lifting a single finger.

“Not that we’re actually going to eat it,” she said as she picked up her fork and spoon again. “But, after dinner, we’re definitely going to have to discuss its presence in the room so we’ll both stop stumbling over it. Deal?”

I didn’t even bother asking if this was an actual deal or some false Flanagan idea of a deal. I simply picked up my own utensils and nodded. “Deal. Can you pass the chili sauce, please?”

Once I’d added a generous amount of the spicy condiment to my plate, we managed to devour our dinners, right down to the last grain of rice.