Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
“Hey Sam,” she greets, still blinking sleepily.
“Hey,” I growl while throwing some scallions into the omelet. Holy fuck, I’m going full Top Chef on the girl, and really rolling out the red carpet. But them my heart stops because as the teen girl rounds the kitchen island, I’m startled by how gorgeous she looks first thing in the morning. Harlow’s shiny brown hair is tousled and wild— a sure sign of a fun night. Her skin is smooth and fresh, her lips a perfect shade of natural pink, and she’s dressed in almost nothing again. She’s got a loose t-shirt on and nothing else, from what I can tell. Maybe the barest hint of panties under the hem, but I’m not sure.
I feel myself immediately go hard with need. This is absurd, I mutter to myself. What the fuck is going on with my life?
But I have to be an adult, so I take a deep breath and plaster a smile on my face.
“So how did you sleep?” I ask in a neutral tone.
She doesn’t even answer, merely yawning loudly once more.
“Caffeinate me,” she groans before plopping onto a stool and then resting her forehead against the kitchen island. “Um, that feels good,” she murmurs, turning her face side to side against the cool marble.
I have to chuckle despite myself because this is a little hysterical. Then I hand her a fresh mug of Joe.
“Oooh, thank you,” she says gratefully before taking a huge sip. The beautiful woman eyes the steaming frying pan. “Oh, are you making eggs?” she asks.
“Yep,” I reply casually. “Do you want some?”
She grins ear to ear. “Yeah def!” She takes another big sip of her coffee, her expression blissful. “Man, I could get used to this. Coffee and eggs on demand? It’s just my thing.”
My back is turned to Harlow but I feel my heart skip a beat because even I have to admit that this little set-up is nice. But aloud, I play it cool. “Peppers and onions good for you?”
“Yep,” Harlow says cheerily. Then, a small sigh escapes her lips as she smiles at me. “You know, Sam, I think this might be the first time in five years that we’ve had breakfast together. Pretty crazy, don’t you think, given that we live in the same house?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, and if I remember, the last time was when I was giving you a lecture about safe sex,” I growl.
She goes red.
“I remember,” she giggles through the pretty flush on her cheeks. “But yeah, it was mortifying because my stepdad was instructing me on how to use condoms! I was what … maybe fourteen or so?”
I shake my head.
“It’s never too early to have that talk,” I growl. But then I grow serious. “You know, Harlow, I’m sorry I wasn’t around more. I’ve been a pretty shitty father figure, haven’t I?” The pan full of peppers and onions sizzles behind me as Harlow takes a moment to think.
“Why do you say that?”
I pause a second while plating the eggs before serving us both.
“Well, I just haven’t been around much. Because of my job and all,” I say in a somewhat choked tone.
Harlow nods slowly.
“But was it more than just your job?” she asks, cocking her head to one side.
I nod.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. After your mother passed, I honestly had no idea what to do with a ten year old girl suffering from grief. So I hired Griselda as your nanny, and it seemed to work out. You guys got along well, and she had a lot of experience.”
Harlow nods.
“Griselda is amazing, and couldn’t have been a better nanny.”
I nod.
“Do you still keep in touch?”
Harlow smiles.
“Yes, definitely. Her retirement was heartbreaking, but then again, I was already eighteen so I didn’t really need a caretaker anymore,” she jests. “But yeah, we have plans to get lunch together next week, so it’s totally fine. I love Griselda.”
I nod.
“Good, good. But tell me sweetheart, what have you been doing with yourself since? I know you graduated high school last May, but since then …?”
Harlow flushes and won’t meet my eyes.
“Just bouncing around,” she says lightly. “College was never in the works.”
I nod.
“School isn’t the next step for everyone. But have you been working? Pursuing hobbies? Hanging out with friends?”
Harlow ducks her head, still avoiding my gaze.
“Yeah, all of those, sort of,” she mumbles while toying with her eggs. “I’m doing lots of random things.”
But I know she’s avoiding me, and in fact, I already know the answer. So I put my fork down and look into those big brown eyes.
“Sweetheart, I know that you work at Club Z,” I tell her, my voice bland. “I know that you please men for a living.”
My stepdaughter flushes bright red.
“Oh,” Harlow murmurs. At first, it looks like she’s going to cry, but then a belligerent look comes over her features. “What about it?” she asks, her tone almost challenging. “I’m nineteen so I can do what I want.”