Dream Daddy Read online

  “Lyd,” Jane says, sighing. “We agreed we weren’t going to badger our guest about books and stories tonight, remember?”

  “That’s right,” Caleb says, speaking up from the other side of the table. “Now why don’t you girls go run off some of that sugar before we clean up? If you’re still in the mood for a story before you go to bed, I promise I’ll tell you one.”

  Kayla is up out of her chair before he even finishes speaking, grabbing her sisters by the arms and dragging them away from the table. “Come on. Let’s play hide and seek outside.”

  “Inside,” Caleb calls after them. “It’s too dark to be running around outside. You’ll be playing with the snakes and raccoons.”

  The younger girls shriek and Jane rolls her eyes as she looks back over her shoulder. “You owe me, Dad.”

  “Thanks, hon.”

  Jane grins at the two of us, then runs off after her sisters.

  After the girls leave the room, Caleb gives me an apologetic look. “Sorry about all of that. It’s a madhouse, I know.”

  “Are you kidding?” I say. “They’re adorable.”

  Truth is, I’ve loved watching Caleb interact with his daughters. He looks so rough and intimidating—all knitted eyebrows and tanned skin and big muscles straining at his clothes—but he just melts around his girls. He clearly has a heart of gold.

  “You’re obviously a great dad,” I say. “They’re lucky to have you.”

  “I’m the lucky one,” he says, rubbing a hand over his chin. “After their mother passed away…well, let’s just say that it was tough. Lydia was just a baby. Kayla was barely out of diapers. And Jane was still so young, too. If I hadn’t been so busy looking after them, I probably would have turned to drinking. Or worse.”

  A mixture of emotions swirls through me. Empathy. Sorrow. Relief that he stayed strong for his daughters. Awe at how incredible of a man he is, raising three girls on his own.

  “Well, you’ve done an amazing job with them,” I say. “Your girls are proof of that.”

  “They’re my life.” He pauses. Studies me. “Tell me more about your life, Adrienne.”

  His focus on me threatens to make me tongue-tied. He may be a kind, caring man, but there’s also such power in his gaze. I felt it earlier, when he was helping me, but now that it’s just the two of us alone, it’s even more potent.

  I wonder what it would feel like to be kissed by him. To be held by him. To be…well, not that I know what sex is like. But something tells me that Caleb is as powerful and loving in the bedroom as he is in the rest of his life.

  I feel my cheeks start to burn. Desperate to put a stop to it, I begin to talk. I tell him about my lifelong dream to be a writer, and about all the rejection letters I got before I finally got a yes; I tell him about the two books I’m under contract for, and how excited I am about the first one coming out. I tell him about the rewrites I have to do, and how much I’m struggling with them; I feel a little silly talking about it, but he expresses sympathy and encourages me to keep at it.

  “The words will come,” he says. “I’m sure they will.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “I hope so.”

  “I’m glad you came over tonight, Adrienne. I know we don’t have as much to offer in the way of entertainment as you’re probably used to in the big city, but I hope you had a nice time.”

  “I’ve had a great time,” I insist. “Honestly? This has been the most fun I’ve had in months. I’ll return the favor and have you all over for some dessert once I’m able to walk around a little better.”

  “No need to return any favors,” he says, then adds, “But I can’t pretend like I’ll turn down an invitation for dessert.” He stands up and offers me a hand. “Speaking of getting around on that leg, though, I should probably take you back so you can get some rest.”

  I nod, letting him help me up out of the chair. He puts his arm around me to support me as we walk toward the door. I might be leaning on him a little more than necessary, but he doesn’t seem to mind—and I’m definitely not complaining about the way my body seems to fit against the hard planes of his chest and shoulder perfectly.

  When we reach the front door of the house, he pushes it open with his free hand, looks out into the night, then looks down at me. His face is just a few inches from mine, and my breath hitches as I look up into his intense, dark brown eyes.

  His gaze drops to my lips. My heart skips a beat. His face moves a little closer to mine—by just a fraction of an inch—before he stops himself.

  His voice is gruffer as he looks away. “We should go.”

  I nod, but we’re already moving. I feel like I’m in a daze. I was so sure he was going to kiss me. I could see it in his eyes that he wanted it just as much as I did—just as much as I still do. I open my mouth to ask him why he didn’t go through with it. But…no. I can’t ask him the question. I’m afraid of what his reply will be.

  All I can do is hope for another night together. Another quiet moment.

  Another chance.

  I can’t get to sleep that night, no matter how hard I try. Thoughts of Caleb just keep swirling in my mind. This is the last thing I need—more distraction from my book—but it’s impossible to stop thinking about him. He’s made me feel safe and cared for. Made me feel listened to.

  Made me feel beautiful in a way I’ve never experienced before.

  I’m still aching for the kiss that didn’t happen between us. I keep imagining what it would be like, relentlessly playing the moment out in my head. But that only makes the ache worse. I don’t want to keep torturing myself like this, but it’s like there’s no other option. I imagine his mouth pressing against mine, his tongue encouraging my lips to part, his broad hands cupping my face.

  In my mind, he tastes like strawberries. He tastes like desire. Oh, God. Why am I doing this to myself? Groaning, I roll over in bed, pushing my face into the gap between the two pillows.

  I’m never going to fall asleep.

  Not with my body buzzing with so much longing, anyway.

  Moving my hands down to my waist, I push both my pajamas and panties down, kicking the pieces of clothing off beneath the sheets. Then I grab one of the pillows and draw it under me, pushing it down between my legs. The moment the silky fabric of the pillowcase comes in contact with my clit, a shiver runs down my spine.

  I close my eyes and grind against the pillow, the dirty pleasure of it making me gasp. I think of Caleb walking into the bedroom after I’m gone, think of him lifting the pillow to his nose, think of him breathing in my scent. Will it be enough to make him touch himself? Will he growl out my name as he comes?

  The thought is too much. I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter and cry out as I shudder against the pillow, coming against the silky fabric. The orgasm consumes me for several seconds before I collapse on my back, breathing heavily.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper into the air above me. “Oh my God.”

  The pillow is still clamped between my legs. I stare at the ceiling in a daze for a full minute before I start to laugh.

  I pull the pillow out from between my legs and slide my clothes back on. I don’t lay back down in bed, though. All of a sudden, I feel inspired. All of a sudden, I know how to fix my book. Sliding out from beneath the sheets, I quickly make my way out of the bedroom and rush over to the dining table, where my laptop is right where I left it.

  I tap a key to wake it up; the bright light makes me squint at first, but my eyes soon adjust. As soon as I lay my fingers on the keyboard, the words come.

  The love interest in my story needs to be more like Caleb—someone strong and confident, but not in a way that feels like he’s doing it to prove anything. Yes. This is good. Strong, confident, sexy…but also sweet. Also open.

  I could kick myself for not seeing it until now. But how could I? Until I met Caleb, I couldn’t have truly pictured it.

  He’s everything I could want in a man.

  And thanks to him, I’m finally going to fix this damn book.

  4

  Caleb

  I’m in the middle of hammering down a loose front porch step when Lydia pokes her head out of the house and frowns.

  “Daddy?” she says. “Jane is asking if you can please stop making so much noise and can we have pie for breakfast, please?”

  “Jane wants to know if we can have pie for breakfast?” I ask, giving her a look.

  “Okay…that part might have been my idea…”

  “Nice try, munchkin.” I grin in spite of myself. “I’ll be in to fix us some breakfast in a minute. Tell your sisters the sun is shining and it’s time to wake up and seize the day.”

  She wrinkles her nose. “Can you tell them, Daddy?”

  It is still a little early, to be fair. Still, there’s plenty to do and no reason for them not to be out here enjoying some of the sunshine before the afternoon heat sets in.

  “Let me finish up out here and then we’ll decide how to wake them,” I say.

  Lydia smiles and nods. Her head disappears from the doorway for a split second before returning. “Do you think Miss Adrienne will come back and visit us again?”

  “I don’t know, munchkin.” My heart beats faster at the thought of that stunning beauty across the field. “Hopefully we can see her again before she has to leave, but she’s only here for a couple more days.”

  Lydia looks disappointed but accepting of my answer.

  “Oh. Okay.” She glances at the porch steps, then looks sternly at me. “Hurry up, okay?”

  I laugh. “I’ll do my best.”

  After Lydia disappears into the house, I finish hammering the porch step, stand up and test it out, and call it good. Before heading into the house, though, I turn around and look across the field toward
the rental cottage. I don’t like admitting it—even in the privacy of my own thoughts—but Adrienne is the reason I’m out here working on the front porch at dawn. Sure, I’d normally be out of bed by now anyway. I don’t believe in wasting daylight. But if not for her, I might not have spent my morning in this exact spot.

  I know it’s fucking ridiculous to be worried about her. She’s a grown woman. She’s certainly capable of taking care of herself.

  But the light in her kitchen window is still on, just like it has been all night.

  My mind keeps jumping to conclusions, conjuring up awful images of her stuck on the floor, unable to call for help…

  Oh, to hell with it. I’m going to fix a quick breakfast for the girls, and then I’m going over to the cottage. I’m sure everything is fine. I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason why that light has been on all night. I’m sure she doesn’t need me.

  But if she does?

  I’m damn sure going to be there for her.

  At least a full minute passes after my first knock on the cottage door. I’m about to knock again when I hear the click of the deadbolt unlock and the door opens a couple of inches to reveal a confused, sleepy-looking Adrienne.

  “Caleb?” she says. She’s squinting against the sun and is looking as beautiful as ever, even though her hair is sticking out at a weird angle from her head on one side. “Are you…why…what time is it?”

  Is she always like this in the morning? Sweet and sexy and sleepily confused? Because it’s fucking adorable.

  “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” I say.

  “Oh?” She still looks confused.

  I nod toward the back of the cottage. “Your kitchen light was on all night. Not that it’s a problem or anything, but I thought with your leg and whatnot…well, I just wanted to be sure.”

  She blinks a few times, and suddenly she no longer looks so drowsy. She cocks her head to the side and smiles. I can feel the warmth of that smile through my whole body. It’s sexy and innocent at the same time.

  “That’s…really sweet.”

  “And I brought you these,” I say, holding up the bowl of fresh strawberries in my hand. “I know you had pie at the house last night, but you can’t leave without tasting them fresh, too.”

  “Oh, gosh. Those look amazing. Thank you.” She runs a hand over her hair and opens the door wider. “Would you like to come in? I’ll make coffee.”

  As I step into the cottage, Adrienne ducks her head to look in a mirror on the wall and quickly smooths down the rest of her hair.

  “I got so caught up in writing last night that I literally fell asleep on my laptop,” she says.

  I sit down in one of the dining room chairs. “That explains the light.”

  She smiles at me over her shoulder. “Sorry to cause concern. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy about the strawberry delivery, though. I can’t wait to try them. How do you take your coffee?”

  “Black.”

  Her smile widens. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

  I watch her as she moves around the kitchen and starts getting the coffee brewing. Even in her pajamas and not a stitch of makeup on her face, she’s absolutely radiant.

  “Here you go,” she says, carrying the two cups of coffee over. She sits down and takes a sip from her cup before contemplating which strawberry to try first. Finally, delicately, she selects one and brings it to her lips.

  My cock aches as I watch her part her lips and push the tip of the strawberry into her mouth. Her lips purse around it, and then she bites down, the soft crunch audible in the otherwise quiet room.

  “Oh, God,” she says, cupping a mouth over her hand. She chews and swallows. “That’s incredible. It’s like I’ve never had a strawberry before.”

  I know the fruit I grow is good. I put my heart into caring for these fields. But seeing her reaction is something else. It’s like I’ve been doing all this work for her the whole time, and I just never knew it.

  “Hold on,” I say. “I want you to try something.”

  I stand up and walk over to the kitchen. I grab a knife from one of the drawers and the pepper grinder from the countertop. As I return to Adrienne, she looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

  “Pepper?” she says.

  “Trust me,” I say. Standing at the edge of the table, I slice open one of the strawberries, then hold the pepper grinder above it and give it a measured twist. “All right. Give it a try.”

  She looks up at me, both eyebrows raised now. “Seriously?”

  “If you hate it, you can spit it out.”

  Adrienne’s cheeks flush. She clears her throat and looks down at the plate. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  Why does it feel like we’re not talking about strawberries anymore?

  I watch as Adrienne lifts the peppered strawberry slice to her mouth. She slides it in. Chews. Looks up at me again.

  “Whoa,” she says, after she swallows. “Whoa.”

  “Good, right?”

  She nods and smiles. “I’ll have to remember that.”

  Our gaze holds. She blinks. Her smile…shifts, a little. My cock complains against my fly. I force myself to sit back down in the chair across from her.

  “So, your writing’s going well now?” I ask.

  She nods. “Yeah. I…” Her eyes flit down to her coffee cup before returning to me. “I got a burst of inspiration last night. And I got a ton of work done. It’s such a relief.”

  “I can imagine.”

  We talk for a while longer, drinking our coffee, Adrienne occasionally helping herself to another strawberry. When she stands up to clear away our dishes, I get up too, and I can’t help notice how well she’s walking around today.

  “Leg feeling better?” I ask.

  “So much better,” she says as she washes the dishes. “I mean, it still hurts, but it’s more of just a dull pain now. And I can actually walk again, thank goodness.”

  I realize I’m still staring at her. I take a step toward the living room, subtly adjusting myself in the process. “Is everything working okay in here? Faucets, lights…everything?”

  “Yeah, it’s perfect,” she says without hesitating, then stops. “Oh, well, actually…there is one thing. It’s nothing, really. I wasn’t even going to mention it, but…the window in the bedroom? It kind of…sticks? It’s not a big deal or anything, but if you wouldn’t mind taking a look at it…”

  “Of course not,” I say, already walking back toward the bedroom. The door is open, and sunlight is flooding the room. The bed is made, but the sheets are slightly askew.

  I walk over to the window and try to open it up. Sure enough, it refuses to budge. With more force this time, I try again, and it finally slides open. I test it once more, then close the window. “There you go. Good as new.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  I turn and see her standing in the bedroom doorway. She’s looking at me with tentative eyes.

  “Can I ask you something?” she says.

  I nod.

  “Why didn’t you kiss me last night?”

  Fuck.

  “Adrienne…”

  “Just tell me. I didn’t think I wanted to know. But I do. I need to know.”

  I sigh. How do I say this to her?

  I just say it, I guess.

  “Look,” I say. “I knew that if I kissed you, one kiss wouldn’t be enough. And I didn’t want to scare you.”

  “You wouldn’t have. You don’t.” Her eyes penetrate mine. “It’s what I want, too.”

  My jaw tightens. I feel that dirty-talking, dominant side of me—the side of me that’s been dormant for so many years—yearning to be unleashed.

  “I’m not sure you know what you’re saying, sweetheart,” I grit out.

  She worries her bottom lip between her teeth. Finally, she says, “It’s that obvious, huh?”

  “What is?”

  “My lack of experience.”

  Oh, sweet Jesus. She’s a virgin?

  “Adrienne…” I say. It comes out more as a moan. I close my eyes. Run a hand over my head. I want her so fucking bad that it physically hurts. “Oh, you sweet girl.”

  I feel her move closer to me. I open my eyes and pull her the rest of the way. She tilts her head up and parts her lips slightly. I angle my mouth down to meet hers.