“I wish that, too.” I shake my head thinking about my
mythical father. “Mom, I’ll let you go. I’ll call soon.”
“Love you, darling.”
“Me, too, Mom. Good-bye.”
Christian’s kitchen is a dream to work in. For a man who
knows nothing about cooking, he seems to ha一ve
everything. I suspect Mrs. Jones loves to cook, too. The
only thing I need is some high quality chocolate for the
frosting. I lea一ve the two halves of the cake on a cooling
rack, grab my purse, and pop my head around Christian’s
study door. He’s concentrating on his computer screen.
He looks up and smiles at me.
“I’m just heading to the store to pick up some
ingredients.”
“Okay.” He frowns at me.
“What?”
“You going to put some jeans on or something?”
Oh, come on. “Christian, they’re just legs.”
He gazes at me, unamused. This is going to be a fight.
And it’s his birthday. I roll my eyes at him, feeling like an
errant teenager.
“What if we were at the beach?” I take a different
tack.
“We’re not at the beach.”
“Would you object if we were at the beach?”
“Would you object if we were at the beach?”
He considers this for a moment. “No,” he says simply.
I roll my eyes again and smirk at him. “Well, just
imagine we are. Laters.” I turn and bolt for the foyer. I
make it to the elevator before he catches up with me. As
the doors close, I wa一ve at him, grinning sweetly as he
watches, helpless—but fortunately amused—with
narrowed eyes. He shakes his head in exasperation, then I
can see him no more.
Oh, that was exciting. Adrenaline is pounding through
my veins, and my heart feels like it wants to exit my chest.
But as the elevator descends, so do my spirits. Shit, what
ha一ve I done?
I ha一ve a tiger by the tail. He’s going to be mad when I
get back. My subconscious is glaring at me over her halfmoon
glasses, a willow switch in her hand. Shit. I think
about what little experience I ha一ve with men. I’ve never
lived with a man before—well, except Ray—and for some
reason he doesn’t count. He’s my dad . . . well, the man I
con
本章未完，点击下一页继续阅读。