Chapter 21 #2
The sip of orange juice I just took hits the back of my throat at just the wrong time, and I closed-mouth cough into my fist, struggling to swallow.
My wide eyes jump up to his, clocking his dazzling grin as he soaks in my reaction.
My brain is galloping off with the tenuous link to Zeke watching porn.
I’ve seen what those big hands look like fisted around his thick cock, and it’s something that will stay with me forever.
My thighs squeeze together under the counter of their own accord, my heartbeat picking up a notch.
He leans back in his chair, giving me a downright unfairly sizzling view of tattooed chest and chiseled abs.
That little carved V of muscle disappearing into his black sweatpants will be the death of me.
“Now who is staring?” he drawls, drawing my attention back to his annoyingly beautiful face.
“I get horny when I’m hungover, what’s your excuse?” I sniff, refusing to feel embarrassed. I think at this point, staring is pretty fair game between us.
“What does horny mean?” Diego pipes without missing a beat, and Zeke groans. Oops.
“It means really happy. Like, the kind of happy you feel all over your body,” I rally back before his dad can reply.
“Oh, okay.” He nods like this makes perfect sense and Zeke and I share a brief look. We all go back to our food in silence.
A soft buzz fills the air and Zeke’s phone starts to dance across the countertop next to him.
He scowls at it, making no move to pick it up.
“Typically, phones work by holding them to one’s ear.
” I smother a grin when he turns those dark, knitted brows on me as I pop a slice of pancake onto my mouth and chew.
Ugh, heaven. I’ll add pro breakfast maker to his annoyingly long list of attributes.
“I’m off the grid today,” he grumbles as the phone stops vibrating.
“Uh-huh.” I stab a piece of bacon with my fork and slide it through the syrup pooling at the back of my plate.
The phone rings again and gets ignored. We repeat this four times before I sigh and lever myself forward using the rungs at the bottom of the chair.
Snatching the phone up before he can stop me, I hit answer and hold it to my ear.
“Brazzers secretary, how may I help you?” I purr in my best sex voice.
He rolls his eyes but settles back into his pancakes with the faintest glimmer of a smile.
“Uh, Chloe? Is that you?”
“Jacob?” I ask, recognizing Zeke’s personal assistant's voice.
“Yeah, is Mr. Guerra there?”
Much as I like Jacob, my loyalties lie with the man who is shaking his head slowly as he chews on a slice of bacon, his jaw muscle tensing and sliding appealingly with every flex.
“Zeke is having his bi-weekly wax right now. You know these Colombian men, if they don’t keep on top of that back, sack, and crack, it’s a real—”
The phone is plucked from my hand by an exasperated man who’s swiping a hand down his face so hard he’s going to give himself wrinkles if he’s not careful. My lips tug up into a mischievous smile and I throw a wink at Diego, who is grinning at me even though I’m sure he has no idea why.
“What is it?” Zeke bites into the phone, stalking away until his voice is just a low rumble.
“Whose birthday party are you going to today, kid?” I ask as I take a gulp of my orange juice. Slowly but surely, this food is bringing me back to life. Or maybe it’s the thrill I get from pissing off the man I’m living with.
“Princeton’s, but he’s not very nice. I don’t like him.” Diego’s wide brown eyes turn glum and fall to his half empty plate.
“Why don’t you like him?”
“He… He says nasty things about me not having a…” He frowns and his plump bottom lip wobbles. “Mommy.” He rolls the word out of his mouth like it’s foreign. Like he’s not had much practice with it and is still figuring it out.
Anger flares bright in my stomach. Whoever this Princeton is, he sounds like a royal chump of a five-year-old. What kind of name is Princeton anyway for a young boy? A hundred bucks says one of his parents went to college there. “If he’s not very nice, why are you going?”
“Papi says it’s good to make friends.” He places his fork down on the countertop and starts to smear his sticky fingers down the front of his space rocket pajama top. It makes me cringe, but I stay where I am, deciding the welfare of his clothes isn’t my responsibility.
“Papi should take his own advice sometime.” The mumbled words have no sooner left my mouth than he returns. I can sense something is up by the annoyance etched into his hard features, his eyes trained on his son as he rounds the counter.
“Mi angel, I’m so sorry, I can’t take you to the party today.
Something has come up at work.” He sits back in his chair and leans over so that his elbows plant on his knees and he’s only a few inches from Diego’s face.
Diego blinks up at his dad and even though he doesn’t want to go to the party, I can tell he’s upset Zeke is leaving.
“I’ve called the agency and they’re going to send another nanny to take you.
Do you remember the one who looked after you when Maria was sick that time? ”
Chocolate brown eyes widen and fill with tears. If that feels like a knife through my heart, I hate to think what it does to his father. Zeke’s shoulders almost vibrate with tension as he places a gentle hand on the back of Diego’s head.
“I don’t want to go with her, Papi. She smells funny and…and…” His bottom lip wobbles as the first fat tear rolls over. Jesus. I feel for the kid. First being made to go to a birthday party of a kid who is mean to him, and then to have to be escorted by a relative stranger he doesn’t like, too?
“Why doesn’t Diego just skip the party altogether and stay here with me? He said he doesn’t want to go anyway,” I offer, hoping I’m not overstepping my bounds.
Diego turns bright watery eyes on me, filled with hope.
Zeke straightens and pulls in a deep breath through his nostrils.
I wonder if I’m about to be told to butt out, but instead he turns to me with a tight look on his face.
“I want him to make friends. I was homeschooled and I don’t want that isolation for him. ”
“Ah, that explains a lot.” I roll my lips, nodding innocently as I bury my head in my plate.
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing.” I slice a ribbon of pancake off with every intention of stuffing my mouth full so I don’t laugh or let loose the barrage of taunts about him not playing nice with others making total sense now.
Plopping the food into my mouth, I glance up to see him staring at me with a skeptical expression, as if he knows exactly where my train of thought was heading.
Swiveling his head back to his son, he lets out a deep sigh.
He looks like he would rather throw himself off the top of this building than leave.
Despite my amusement, I feel a tug deep in my stomach to see how cut up he is about letting Diego down.
“I can take him, if you like?” I pick up a fresh slice of bacon from the tray in the center of the island and snap it in half.
“Oh Papi, please? Can I go with Chloe, pleassseeeee?” Diego begs without hesitation, almost falling off his chair.
Zeke’s brows rise comically, and his gaze bounces between us. “You would do that?”
“Sure, why not? He can’t be that hard to break, right?” I grin, unable to resist throwing in a little something to…bingo. That, right there. The exasperated look and the pressing into his eyes with a finger and thumb. He shakes his head and smiles as he lowers his hand.
“Está bien, chico descarado. Pero debes prometer que te portarás bien con la bella dama. Y no más colarse en su cama por la noche.” A shiver tiptoes down my spine at the effortlessly smooth Spanish, the hair on my arms rising. God damn. I’m a sucker for a Latino man, apparently.
Diego nods eagerly with a gummy grin and Zeke turns to me.
“Thank you. I’ll send the location to your phone.
It’s on the other side of the park so you’ll need to drive.
” He stands and walks over to a drawer on the other side of the kitchen, sliding it open.
“You can drive, right?” He hesitates with a shiny silver and black key fob looped onto his finger, looking at me questioningly.
“Of course I can drive.” I scoff, holding my hand out. Just not overly well, is the part I don’t add.
“How well?” he shoots back, holding the keys just out of reach.
“Do you want me to take him or not?” I snap, curling my fingers in twice in a “hurry up” motion. He hesitates and I groan. “Zeke, I’m not going to kill your son. Give me the damn keys.”
He relents, dropping them into my palm with a light frown. “His booster seat is already set up in the Volvo SUV at the back of the lot. I’ll make the call and have you added to my fleet insurance.”
“Cool, thanks.” I place the keys on the countertop and watch as he rounds the counter again to say goodbye to Diego.
Chubby hands curl around the back of his neck as he hugs him, making my heart melt into a gooey puddle of feeling that I don’t want to look at.
Good fathers are like catnip to women nearing thirty.
And I’m about ready to say fuck it and climb that scratching pole.
Especially considering the sheer amount of contoured muscle sliding beneath the surface of his tanned back.
“Is everything okay at work?” I ask as he lets him go, rising again to his full stature. All ten of his long, broad fingers are thrust into his hair as he sighs. “I don’t know, one of the servers has been hacked. I need to figure out how bad the breach is and if we’re vulnerable to a fine.”
My brows shoot north. If any sensitive data or intellectual property was stolen, it could be a proverbial shit storm.
“Yep.” He huffs, clocking my expression. “I’ll try and get done as quickly as I can. If I have time, I’ll meet you at the party.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine, won’t we, squirt?” I shoot a sly grin at Diego, who claps his sticky hands together.
When Zeke rounds the corner of the stairs out of sight after one last eye roll, I hop down from my chair and pad over to the drawer he collected the key from. A low chuckle hisses from my lips as I see five other key fobs neatly lined up in silk-cushioned cubbies, all with supercar logos on them.
Oh, I think we can do better than the Volvo. Don’t you?