“Reina,” he growled my name. I lifted my eyes to see the couple had moved closer. Shit.
I placed the hangers I was holding back on the rack and turned around to leave. Big Daddy and his girlfriend stared at me—well, he glared and she stared but her dark eyes were surprisingly warm and inviting.
“Baby girl, this is Reina,” he muttered.
I was going to vomit.
“Reina, this is my daughter Lacey,” he continued, gauging my reaction.
Lacey smiled widely at me and that’s when I realized she had her dad’s smile. I looked back and forth between them, noting all the similarities and kicked myself for thinking she was his girlfriend.
“Nice to meet you, Reina,” she said, before her curious eyes turned back to her father, studying him as he watched me.
“It’s nice to meet you too.” I attempted to smile but my jaw felt stiff. “You look just like your dad.”
“Poor kid,” he said, winking at Lacey.
“Everyone says that,” she laughed, before smacking her dad’s arm playfully. “You should invite her tonight.”
The playfulness disappeared from his face, unbeknownst to his bubbly daughter, who looked back at me.
“It’s the big guy’s birthday,” she said, pointing her thumb at her dad. “And I’m cooking dinner.”
Jack cringed, and I wasn’t sure if it was Lacey’s invitation that was the cause or the fact it was his birthday.
“The big three-eight,” She exclaimed mischievously.
He grunted.
“Happy birthday,” I whispered, finding the nerve to meet his gaze.
“Dinner’s at seven, do you think you can make it?”
“I… I…have this thing,” I stuttered. I didn’t have shit to do. But watching paint dry sounded more tempting than sitting at a table with Jack. I could picture him glaring at me as he passed the salad, cursing under his breath when our fingers touched because he didn’t like the connection any more than I did. He didn’t like surrendering his pride to something that was bigger than him and this attraction, this unexplainable pull, it was gargantuan.
Jack raised an eyebrow, biting down on his lip before clearing his throat.
“You should come,” he said.
I diverted my eyes to his, noting the amusement reflected in them.
Filthy. He was so damn filthy.
I was starting to love it.
The new Reina was crazy.
“I want you to come,” he added, his words slow and full of innuendo.
“See,” Lacey declared. “You’re not going to let the birthday boy down are you?” She winked at me, her smile electrifying.
“Okay,” I whispered, surprising myself. I forced a smile at her then lifted my eyes to Jack’s. “I’ll come.”
His lips quirked, blossoming into a smile, a smile meant for me.
Shit.
That smile was everything.
It almost made me forget the purely selfish reason behind agreeing to go…hoping he’d talk dirty to me.
Chapter Eleven
I twisted the top off a beer, leaned against the counter and watched my daughter make a damn mess of my kitchen. Lacey couldn’t cook for shit, but when she asked if she could make me dinner for my birthday, well, I couldn’t bring myself to say no. Even though it’s likely I’ll be ordering pizza an hour after dinner is done.
Lacey lifted her eyes, smiling sheepishly at me as she scraped the burnt remnants off a pan. I smiled, brought my beer to my lips and took a sip, pretending like I didn’t know dinner was fucked.
“So, Reina?” She questioned nonchalantly.
“What about her?” I replied, staring at the pot on the stove that was boiling over. “Lace? You might wanna…”
Her eyes followed mine.
“Shit!” She dropped the spoon she was using as a shovel and lowered the flame, pulling the cover off the pot. Once she had the boiling water under control and the charred, whatever you call it, off the pan she turned back toward me and narrowed her eyes.
“You’re making me nervous,” she accused. “Now, stop looking at me like I will mess this up and tell me about Reina. Is she one of the club girls?”
“No,” my answer was automatic.
“No, you won’t tell me about her or no she’s not one of the club girls?”
“Something tells me even if I said I wasn’t going to talk about Reina, you wouldn’t let that shit die,” I laughed, as my lips quirked knowingly and placed my beer down on the counter. “She’s the furthest thing from a club girl,” I added.
“She’s beautiful,” Lacey stated.
“She is,” I agreed, crossing my arms against my chest and leveling her with a look, hoping she caught my drift and left this shit alone.
“Are you dating her?”
“Your old man doesn’t date, Lace,” I said, my voice growing agitated.
“Maybe you should,” she replied, turning around to face me. “I think it would be good for you. You know I don’t remember you ever having a girlfriend. Since you and Mom split you’ve always been by yourself.”