Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
I can’t help but smile a little, and bite the inside of my cheek to keep it from showing.
“Sunny side up,” I reply. “What about you?”
“Scrambled, always,” she says. “Taking notes on what I like, Mr. Quinn?” she asks cheekily.
“Absolutely.”
She chuckles, cracking three eggs into the pan for me and watching as the white sets. When she finishes, she adds a pinch of salt and pepper, places a large stack of pancakes onto my plate, and then sets the whole thing down on the counter before me with a fork and knife. While she scrambles her own eggs, I find out how she takes her coffee—cream and sugar—and prepare her a cup, then my own, which I drink black.
Breakfast is eaten mostly in silence for the first few minutes because it’s so goddamn good. The eggs are buttery and semi-solid, which I like, and the pancakes fluffy and sweet. But of course, we can’t avoid the elephant in the room forever.
“So,” my girl begins in a hesitant tone. “I’ve been meaning to ask how you feel about last night,” she says. I look down. I knew this was coming, but it doesn’t mean it’s a conversation I’ve been looking forward to or want to have. But I decide to be honest because Selena deserves it.
“I feel guilty,” is my growled reply.
Selena cocks her head. “Guilty? Why?”
I frown. “Isn’t it obvious? We shouldn’t have done what we did. I shouldn’t have crossed those lines. I’m your stepfather and you’re a girl in my care.”
Selena chews on another bite of pancake pensively, then swallows. “Well, I guess, but not really.”
“What do you mean ‘not really’? What else would I be?”
She takes a deep breath, her coffee cup paused in mid-air.
“Sure, you were married to my mom,” she begins, “but that was a really long time ago. I barely even remember you being around, to be honest. Plus, it’s not like you raised me. You weren’t changing my diapers or bringing me to school or kissing my boo-boos. Basically, after Rochelle died, I lived in your house for a few weeks, and then it was off to boarding school. I haven’t seen you since, Clancy. It’s not exactly a paternal relationship, wouldn’t you say?”
I nod. She has a point, but she doesn’t completely see my side of things. “Yeah, but I’m still your father in some sense.”
“What sense is that?”
“Well, the only reason we know each other is because of Rochelle. Otherwise, we’d just be two strangers on the street. Also, I feel responsible for you,” I growl, seizing her eyes with mine. “I take care of you.”
When she looks confused, I continue. “When you said that Rochelle would have wanted me to take care of you, you were right. I feel the need to make sure you’re okay, and that you have a roof over your head. I want to make sure you’re happy.”
Selena laughs slightly as she colors, her cheeks flushing a pretty pink.
“I guess,” she concedes, “but that’s also how people feel about their partners, right? Didn’t you want all those same things for my mom? A roof over her head and to make sure she’s happy?”
I take a big bite of my eggs and wash it down with a long swallow of coffee to give myself a chance to consider the idea. I hadn’t thought about the situation that way, but I guess she’s right. People do feel a drive to take care of the person they’re dating, and it doesn’t mean they’re raising them. Hell, there are definitely no paternal feelings currently; my feelings are romantic, not to mention sexual. But still, where does that leave us?
“I still feel guilty,” is all I can manage, and Selena smiles likes she understands, reaching across the table to take my hand.
“Why don’t we just give it a try, Clancy?”
I shoot her a suspicious look.
“Give what a try?”
Her eyebrows raise as if she’s dealing with a recalcitrant child.
“Are you being obtuse on purpose, Mr. Quinn? Give us a try, what else?”
My mouth is pressed into a tight line because I don’t know what to say. My heart and body want to say yes but my brain is telling me no, and the whole thing makes me churlish and uncomfortable. Avoiding her eyes, I turn away.
“We’ll see,” is all I grunt. “Now finish your breakfast.”
Selena turns away with a giggle, but she doesn’t seem dissuaded, and I’ll give her credit for that. The curvy girl is tenacious and courageous, and my heart swoops in my chest before plunging to my feet. I respect her, and despite my all my reservations, I already know that I can’t resist the lovely, luscious woman who is Selena Fillmore. She’s magically appeared in my life … and now, I couldn’t drive her away if I tried.
7
Selena
* * *